Prozac Chewables

So, I saw the new issue of Rolling Stone. Jessica Simpson is housewife of the year! now that I know what my aspirations should be, I’ll be sure to guide my life in that direction. Fuck that shit. I was suprised to see that she doesn’t look entirely un-fed on the cover. In the pictures that accompany her article, however, she resembles an emaciated rat with breast implants. I didn’t have time to read the article, coz I was at work, but I sincerely hope it mocks her. They did include some of her stupid quotes, like when she thought buffalo wings were made with buffalos.

Also, here’s another jewel from the psychiatric industry: They show a picture of this kid that my boss thought looked about six, with big bold print that said “Is it bipolar disorder?”. The ad went on to suggest that this toddler doesn’t have to suffer alone, and that he can indeed recieve a handy dandy dose a day cure just like Mommy. It didn’t say that exactly, but however they put it, the point is that the ad was incouraging the regular medication of toddlers, and it made me slightly sick to my stomach.

In office news, the wierd guy from cataloging (who lurched after me down the hall that one time, and scared me so bad I ran into the elevator like a freak) was talking to himself today. I always tell myself that I’m going to stop looking over at his cubicle when I got to get coffee, but it’s like a train wreck… and I want to see what other wierd things he does.

Gotta go, I’m at work and my break just ended.

10 munites later: Okay, I just went to the bathroom, and that kid was still talking to himslef, and then when I came back he’s got his nose pressed against his computer screen, and it’s like, your glasses are allready 1/2 an inch thick, what the fuck? You’d think not being wierd and creepy would be a requirement for working in an office with others. Yeah, this is me being a big fat bitch, but waddaya gonna do about it punk?