Dear Google Earth,

I effing hate you. You have made my already unbearable job feel so much more oppressive. I wish the IT team here would detect my unauthorized download of you and fire me, or at least remove you. You are the devil. As I sit at my desk today, "celebrating" my birthday, I can think only of the fact that one year ago, I spent this day in Paris. Thanks to your ridiculously good resolution, I can see the shadows of last year's adventures. Screw you. You are trying to kill me, inanimate program. Good lord, I need a bottle or six of wine.

Your adoring fan,

Brian

Someday, I would like to be as worthless as an HR Generalist. The following list contains the titles of ever-so-important information that our HR Generalist has posted on our company's intranet.
#1. What's the Buzz about Breakfast?!
#2. Predict Consequences of Your Actions to Live Wisely and Well
#3. Septemeber is National Fruits and Vegetables Month!
#4. Planning Your Vacation?*
*actually, this was the most devious of all, it was actually about retirement.

When she's not informing us about the perils of skipping breakfast or the breakdown of what actually counts as a serving of mustard greens, our HR Generalist finds time to send out emails with subject lines like the following.

#1. Reminder: The Massage Therapist Comes the First Wednesday of Every Month
#2. Make Your Desk Ergonomically Right.
#3. I have a pointless life with a husband that hates me and children that are little demons. *
*OK, that wasn't actually a subject of one of the emails, but I'm pretty sure it's the case.
#4. Clarification on Back, Neck, and Spine Memo
#5. Food on the Coffee Bar...Help Yourself

Perhaps I'm being a bit on the harsh side, but really, what education is required for this job that pays so much more than mine? Apparently, my ignorance of HR is shocking; I cannot tell you the difference between the HR Generalist and HR Specialist except that the Specialist has an office and the Generalist has a dank cubicle. I feel that no matter how little I accomplish during the week, I should have some good job security.

A kindergarten teacher explains to her class that she is an Iowa State Cyclone. She asks her students to raise their hands if they are Cyclones, too. No one really knows what a Cyclone is, but wanting to be like their teacher, their hands explode into the air like fleshy fireworks. There is, however, one exception. A boy named Brian has not gone along with the crowd. The teacher asked him why he has decided to be different.

"Because I'm not a Cyclone."

"Then," asks the teacher, "what are you?"

"Why, I'm a proud Iowa Hawkeye," boasts the little boy. The teacher is a little perturbed now, her face slightly red.

She asks Brian why he is a Hawkeye. "Well, my mom and dad are Hawkeyes, so I'm a Hawkeye too." The teacher is now angry. "That's no reason," she says loudly. "What if your mom was a moron, and your dad was a moron. What would you be then?"

"Then," says Brian, "I'd be a Cyclone."

Oh, the joy of a good Iowa State joke before this Saturday's game. Of course, the Ball State joke last week got old, awfully fast; 56-0.