What time is it?
It’s Hotness:30 up in heah, b-words! OK, so that’s not me. It’s clearly Britney Spears with a griz-nill, y’all! Annnnnnd, it’s cute. You can’t afford to see the real Hotness.
So, Bradley clearly needs a lot of help. His phone rings off the hizzy, his desk is a bloody mess, and I need the college credits. As an intern, I’m not sure how long I will be able to contribute here. But save the tears for when I really make you cry.
Back to me. They’ll probably keep me until I either fulfill the required work load for a full class credit or they kick me out because something Jessica Simpson or Carrie Underwood did made me spurt Fresca out my nose and onto some very expensive equipment amassed around Brad’s huge, uh, cubicle?
Anywho, if Brad doesn’t get to it first, I’ll sink my grill in it and slather the sloppy seconds into a post du jour. Ha! That was French for “of the day.” I should get some credit for remembering that… especially after the short term memory loss that occurred this weekend.
So please welcome: ME. And don’t make me cry. I’m supposed to make you cry.
Note from Brad: Oh good God. I’m frightened.
