Due to the small detail where I have to ask someone permission to tell the latest hard-hitting news about Hulk's sex life, and due to the part where I did not get ahold of said person in order to GET said permission, I am unable to tell you today about Hulk's riveting sex life. So although I told you yesterday to tuuuuuune in today, now you get bupkis.
But wait! There's more. All of it stupid.
For example, under the category of stupid, yesterday at work while in our new open floor plan, I overheard one coworker say he was going to dinner with his family tomorrow. "Oh, where are you going?" asked my boss, who enjoys every conversation about food. The coworker told him.
"Oh, I've heard of that place," said my boss. "Is it a chain?"
"Chain, chain, chainnnnn," I sang at my desk, never looking up.
"I don't think it's a chain," said the coworker.
"Chain, chain, chainnnnn," I sang again.
"Yeah, I think it is," said my boss, who then delved into an explanation of this one company that owns several chains
("Chain, chain, chainnnnn...")
of restaurants. "And I think that place is part of their chain," my boss said.
"Chain, chain, chainnnnn," I sang again.
"ARE YOU GOING TO SING THAT EVERY TIME SOMEONE SAYS CHAIN?" demanded The Other Copy Editor, who sits behind me. Imagine having a job where your whole day involves having to sit seven inches from me. Imagine that.
My boss ignored The Other Copy Editor, so enamored was he of his extensive restaurant information. "For example, the company that owns P.F. Chang's..." he began.
"Chang, chang, channnng," I sang, and then I gazed lovingly at myself. The Other Copy Editor lit up a cigarette. Do you know what kind of smoker she is?
CHAIN, CHAIN, CHAINNNNN!
Okay. She doesn't smoke at all. I just wanted to say that.
Also, OH, ALSO! I'm so glad I remembered to tell you this! So, my cousin Katie, the one who kind of looks like a lesbian and that's okay (you know what she wears to connect her wallet to her belt? A CHAIN, CHAIN, CHAINNN!), recently bought a house in northern Michigan. My cousin had some friends over who have a kid. The kid came out from the guest room, where he'd been playing, and said he didn't want to play in there any more, because there was a mean man in there who had horns.
By the way,
ACCCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!!
I heard this story months ago and forgot it.
So, Ned and I are planning to go to Michigan in August, to see my home town and also to go visit Katie. I was emailing with my mother and Katie about which days are good, and by the way, no. If you are in Michigan and you see that I am coming there and you are thinking, "Oh! I'll write June and tell her I'm there too! Surely she won't have 49559495934934 people to see and will have all the time in the world to visit me!" No. The answer is no. Already booked, as I always am when I go back to Michigan. I'M SORRY.
Anyway, my cousin Katie said yes, she'd love for Ned and me to visit, and my mother too, but to keep in mind she only has the one guest room.
My mother emailed me forthwith. "You don't want to stay in Katie's devil room, do you?"
ACCCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!!
I had forgotten, and Ned had forgotten too, and he said, "We would have gotten there, and I'd have remembered about the devil THAT NIGHT, and I would have gotten really pissed."
In other news, Katie has an excellent way to stave off house guests. And that way is Old Pitch.
Anyway, that's my news. I will alert you to Hulk's hot lava devil sex life as soon as I get permission from the person I need to get permission from, and this whole trying-to-be-considerate thing sucks ass.
Chainedly,
June
