real job

No shit. No, I am not kidding. I have my own office, and everything. It's kind of the colour of the underside of your tongue. Except for where the ceiling tiles are discoloured from water damage. And my own desk, which has its own computer. And you know what that means. It's time for Lady MacBugs to fire up that magnificent time-wasting machine. And as an homage to this treadmill that's taken me on, I shall post a link to awe-inspiring treadmill action.

If you really wanna know what this fancy new job is, well you'll just have to tune in again, won't you? But I'll give you a clue. So far, it has involved two of these things:

a) standing in a refrigerator for 4 days
b) spying on employees of adult novelty stores
c) analyzing the semen of albino bulls
d) riding in a hot air balloon at sunrise
e) delivering singing telegrams to suburban zombies