Ahhhhhh, just had to clear my head. It is nice to know that my absence has created such an uproar in cyberspace. I thought all the action in my comments section was going to clog blogspots internal networks. I digress and as my favorite bloggers say, "on to the funny”:

Dear Corporate World,

I love you. Where else can I spy over my cube wall and see a woman scroll through a website of cat pictures - actual non-professional pictures of cats lazing around in their own habitat, I saw one that had its head stuck in a box, lol? Where else can I see through the crack of the bathroom stall a grown mans dong - the last real life j, other than my own, I have seen was my friend's when he attempted a penis trick called "The Peasant Under Glass" which incorporated a coffee table and a jazzercise type hip thrust and hold? Where else can I overhear a woman speaking with her husband in a hushed voice and say "talk to me more like that"?
That's right. No where but Main Street, Corporate, USA.

I will be out of the office all next week, but I have been promised dial-up internet connection. It took all of me not to respond to the IT guy with an "As if."

I've seen my grandfather wear a tie with sweatpants. I've put down a rabid dog. I am.
-The Caretaker

*snap shot taken in my living room

A mormon (looked like Trevolta but Asian) stopped by my house the other day and handed me a pamphlet that had on the cover “Eat, Sleep, Work, Die.” After reading the inside, you realize that following Joseph Smith will allow you to add Love into the equation. “Eat, Sleep, Work, Love, Die”? If I let Joseph Smith into my heart will I only get love?
Eat, Sleep, Work, ___ , Die. What about fatten, smell, pop knuckles, swallow small amounts of throw up in your throat, let snot dry on face then pick it then eat it, get antacid, yell at mother, shop at malls, blackmail sister into serving you breakfast in bed after you find her in compromising position, etc. Feel free to add your own in the comments section.
Mormons are so short sighted.

I wipe with animal fur. I've pondered acne on cavemen. I am.
-The Caretaker

While riding the metro to work this morning I found a real treasure. It was scribbled on the back of a magazine advertisement. This is no joke. I have transcribed it here:

You wouldn’t know gay if it slapped you in the face,
Took you to Dupont and bought you a drink at The Fireplace

Your butt aint tight, dood, you need to do lunges
Too bad you ain’t got time, too busy doing toilet plunges

chorus
You a janitor, that’s a terrible job
Your dick so small, looks like a key fob
Damn, I slammed you again
Here’s my hand, let me help you up, friend
Sike, you faggy doushe
Leave America go back to Bruge
chorus

Ah haaaa, I’m the master with the mic
You just a fat boy with a girlfriend that’s a dyke

Lapping poon is what she known for
Thats why you at Harriet Tubman’s asking for more

Potential names of Janet's love child if Micheal adopted her instead of the eldest Jackson sibbling, Rebbie (who knew there was a Jackson named Rebbie? Wierd name, I wonder what he looks like. See below picture):

1. Apple Head
2. Bahrain
3. Pacie (short for pacifier)
4. Cheese Cloth

I use gmail, and I think it is cool. I was probably one of the first people you knew who had it. I most likely invited you to gmail.

That being said, I have come to an ugly realization. It began by a harmless e-mail that I wrote to myself telling myself to open it in five years. I put it in my outlook calender and it will make an alarm 5 years from today. Please note: I realize this will not work. It was a stupid email basically with questions and things that I will want to remember in 5 years. It not some goal-ridden e-mail that some doushie econ majoring cousin/co-worker would write. I was borred at work.

All that doesn't matter, what does is that if I stick with gmail for the next 5 years, I could potentially be really screwed down the road. Preface: I have been lying for a good portion of the last two decades. If you think about it, the gmail "archive-ing" feature is quite possibly creating one of the ugliest, most accessable web of lies in the modern day. This is a paper trail that would scare Ghandi. This can and will break up friendships, campaigns, families, lives, etc.

Sergey Brin and Larry Paige are laughing now, well maybe they are picking the dried snott off their faces or writing Peace on one chuck taylor toe and Love on the other, but soon enough they will be laughing.
-The Caretaker

The caretaker has let his hair down, taken his nose off the grindstone and is letting the sweet southern air fill his mouth. I can't sleep. I'm busy. Keep your eyes to the railroad tracks.

I just used our new waterless urinal in the bathroom of my office. I was very impressed with myself that I helped save 40,000 gallons of water a year. While reading the plaque stating this fact, I peed pretty thoroughly all over my finger. I have been known to pee on a hand or two, so I wasn’t too worried about it. I just re-adjusted and kept the flow going and promptly finished.
With nothing to do with my hands – no flusher, etc – I was bored/confused on my way to the sink, so I decided without knowing it to use my pee hand to bush back my hair. I now have pee in my hair, but it looks like a million bucks.
-Caretaker