Travel Agent

If you're making summer travel plans, forget that trip to the beach. Why not have a life-altering epiphany instead?

The Lockdown Vacation Package

Are you floating through life with no clear purpose or mission, adrift in a fog of alcohol, parties and paparazzi? Do you have no real job, no real skills, and a limited range of facial expressions? Then a Lockdown vacation is the perfect chance to mature, grow, and become the role model for overprivileged children you know you can be.

This all-expenses-paid trip is designed to develop strength, responsibilty, and a tolerance for small enclosed spaces. Accomodations are spartan and secluded, leaving you with plenty of time for solitary reflection. Scheduled activities include: Counting Ceiling Tiles, Looking at Picture Bible, Retrieving Fallen Soap With Feet, and Making Friends Through Vents. In the arts and crafts area you can learn to carve a shiv, or turn Skittles into eyeshadow! Skills you'll take through life!

After just 23 days, you'll emerge with a fresh perspective, a renewed dedication to the betterment of humankind, and a deep appreciation for quality hair extensions. And don't forget about those souvenir photos!



Space is limited so book your trip today! Call 1-888-THE CLINK now - officers are standing by!

A Drop of Golden Sun

What a beautiful morning! The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, there was barely a cloud in the sky!



So how the frick was it also POURING DOWN RAIN?

Dudes, nothing will make you feel like a bigger loser than walking around under an umbrella in blinding sunlight. Even if other people are doing it too, it's still kind of stupid. Better to just get wet.

* * * * *
Happy Birthday, CJ!



I hope you enjoyed your present because it made me late for work.

The Last Straw

When you have a pet with a major behavioral problem, you eventually either resign yourself to living with it, or else you reach a point where you know it can't go on. I reached that point a few weeks ago. I was expecting company and decided to strip the sofa of all the double stick tape and pinned on tinfoil that were supposed to keep Dewey from scratching. The tape left behind a sticky residue that wouldn't rub off, and even worse, underneath were dozens of scratch marks and pulled threads. All the way around the edge the lining was shredded and hanging. I sat there looking at the sofa I'd had for six months. Just like the one before it, this couch was ruined. I looked at the rug and noticed all the little pulls from where the cat had been scratching. Just like the last rug. And that was when I realized that no matter what I did this cat was going to continue to destroy the things I own. All my rigged up defenses, the ridiculous nightly ritual of spraying the sofa with pet repellant and covering it with a layer of plastic bags or tinfoil, the myriad cat scratchers and Soft Paws and sticky tape and spray bottles ... I'd tried everything, and nothing had worked. For nine years, this cat ruined thousands and thousands of dollars worth of furniture. For nine years, I tried to train him to stop scratching, and I failed.

*
The vet said declawing a cat this heavy and this old was out of the question. I asked what else I could do. He said "Not much," and gave me the number of a cat psychologist. Thanks a lot, hippie.

The no-kills were all full, so I posted a couple of ads on Craigslist. My tactic was brutal honesty, because why lie and get him into a home only to have someone get rid of him once the scratching starts. I wrote funny ads that played up his personality, but also made it clear that this was a cat with issues. A couple of people expressed interest, but in the end, no one came for him.

So on Saturday, I surrendered him at the Anti-Cruelty Society.

It was a hard decision, because I've always believed that you don't just toss pets aside when you get tired of them or they become inconvenient. But this was something more. When an animal has such a negative impact on your quality of life .... I mean, I have to wait ten years for him to die before I can have nice things? I want to love the place I come home to now. I don't think that's so much to ask.

At the shelter, I was totally honest about his destructive tendencies. It's up to them, I guess, whether that makes him adoptable or not. They were kind but I still felt like an asshole, surrounded by other people's unwanted animals, leaving my own behind. I stuffed a check into the donation box but it did little to assuage my stinging conscience. I fled the building in tears.

*
The past couple of days have been quiet. Slowly, I've been reclaiming my house. I pulled off all the double stick tape and scrubbed the entire apartment until it sparkled. Olivia's best friend - who is allergic - will finally be able to come over now, and just in time for a birthday slumber party. Without a doubt, my home is a happier place to be than it was last week, or last month, or last year.

I still really hate the neighbors upstairs though.

Man In a Box

What do a bunch of advertising types do when they're bored and it's 6PM but no one will let them leave the office because a big project is in the works?

A Mime-Off, of course!


Wuh-wuh-WUH

To find out who is the Jeeb's best mime, a rigorous competition was set up covering 8 key mime moves:

• Down the Stairs
• Up the Stairs
• Down the Escalator
• Up the Escalator
• The Elevator Down, Single
• The Elevator Down, Group
• On the Moving Sidewalk at O'Hare
• Text Messaging

Winner of The Jeeb's Official 2008 Mime-Off: John!

Which is only fitting, because his stripety shirt inspired the entire event. Also, he looks French.


John does "blasé"

Mime-Off is an official trademark of Hey Shouldn't You Be Working? © 2007

BULLSHIT

The Cubs are dead to me. It's official.


Gone: 90% of the reason I even bother watching

That Great Chicken Coop in the Sky

R.I.P. Chuck



Well that didn't take long.

STILL KICKING: Worst Cat Ever

Peep Show

Last night, there was another chick in my bedroom.



Meet Chuck.

He's one of several baby chicks being raised by Dylan's class at school. On Friday, he and his buddies are going to a farm. (Let's hope it doesn't have "Tyson" in the name.) Until then, he's hanging with us. In a crate, in my bedroom, since that's the only room Dewey's too scared to go into. For something so small, Chuck is gotdamn noisy. Especially at 2AM. I like my peeps marshmallowy and quiet. However, LOOK AT HOW CUTE.

* * * * *
• There has been some activity to report on the list. The number three position is now occupied by a gangly tattooed lovekitten from Miami. Favre = ovre.

• BOOKED: sweet Michigan lake house for part of July!

• I started running a couple of weeks ago.

• No, really.

• 2 miles, every other day. Ass: firmer, slightly smaller. Legs: dog-tired.

• Kisses and congrats to my friends Leslie & Jeremy on the arrival of their adorable new poop-machine.

• Tonight Dylan and I are going to a concert, thanks to the generosity of my friend Oz. Because, because, because, because, becaaaaaaaaaaaause! Because of the wonderful things he does! I owe him beer and lottery tickets. Also, a heart and some courage.

• There is a good chance Damian Kulash will be number three on my list tomorrow.

Playing For Third Playlist
"C-C-C-Cinnamon Lips"
"This Will Be Our Year"
"Crash the Party"

If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say

           
          
          

Internal Organs

Whenever I manage to snag a seat on a busy train, I make a point of looking around after major stops to make sure there aren't oldsters or preggos needing to sit. This morning, I spotted a preggo. I tapped her on the arm and offered my seat; she happily accepted. As I gathered my things, she saw the tupperware container full of freshly baked pecan rolls on my lap. "But you have a cake!" she said.

"That's okay," I said. "You have a bun."

How am I this funny at 8AM? I wish I could tell you. It's a gift.

* * * * *

Word of the Day
Vagancreas™ (vûh-jank-rë-iss) [n]
A mysterious, small red foam organ procured in a promotional giveaway; looks suspiciously like a compilation of several different body parts; excellent shock value when tucked into lap. See also: pangina

Usage:
I'd help you lift that but I pulled my vagancreas last week.
I'd give you my number but my vagancreas is acting up again.
The vagancreas ate my homework.

™ Tall Michele