The documentary Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead was about my last three days.
They declared Monday Labor Day because I have a food baby that needs to be birthed something fierce.
(Pregnancy jokes about Labor Day never get old despite what Twitter says)
I think it's an old Native American ritual to welcome a new September with cheese and school supplies if you want a fortuitous semester.
What I'm saying is... I'm actually a little hungry again.
FOR BLOG CHEESE.
I don't know what that means but I'm guessing it means we should ogle the 1965 Manhattan office of Brutalist architect Paul Rudolph:
You're probably heading back to work like me and my office definitely doesn't look like this and I hope your office doesn't either so I don't have to hate you. I also hope your cheese intake has quadrupled like mine because misery loves company. And dairy?
|I can't remember where these 2 photos came from but see more at Flickr here (I can't share the Flickr ones?)|
They don't even know how to walk on the floors. Silly olden times people.
I don't even know what equipment a crack whore even needs these days - maybe they don't even need mattresses anymore. I DON'T KNOW THESE THINGS. TV has really fucked up my understanding of what drug-addicted prostitutes require for their profession.
But one thing I do know is that I wish I worked in a place that was all grainy and retro. I'll have to settle for a place that has access to Pinterest. I'll be happy to go back to work there after the holiday weekend as soon as I get a vegetable in my body. I'm pretty worthless right now on account of the delicious saturated fat.
|buy the print here should you desire it|
Here it is in color just so you can get the full Ferngully effect of the vines. An effect I will now be attempting in my house.
Get ready for leaves in your mac and cheese, future ModSauce Ranch guests!