Today, one of our clients sent us substantiation for a medical product they wish to advertise. Most clients send documentation of research that has been conducted as substantiation. This client sent a link to a wikipedia page.
I repeat: A LINK. TO A WIKIPEDIA PAGE.
This substantiation would not hold up in a 6th grade report, much less a court of law.
Sometimes, Jim will humor me and play a certain game where one of us makes up a band name, and the other responds with what kind of band that would be. This game is usually played when I can’t fall asleep. Here’s an example from last night:
Me: If you had a band named “Guest of Honor” what kind of band would it be?
Jim: “Guest of Honor” is a rapper.
Me: Do you think he would ever do a side project with Christopher Guest? Then they could call themselves “Christopher Guest of Honor.”
Jim: Their hit single would be “Best in Show Me Whatcha Workin’ With.” Or “This is Spinal Tap Dat Ass.”
A package I ordered online has been delivered according to UPS Tracking Magic (not its official name), but I DON’T SEE IT IN THE PLACE AT WORK WHERE THE PACKAGES GET DELIVERED (not its official name). Excuse me while I have a panic attack because the most expensive pair of shoes I have ever bought is now probably being worn by receptionist who signed for them at another location. I bet her feet are wide, too, as most size 10.5 feet (except for mine) tend to be. STOP STRETCHING THEM OUT IN MY IMAGINATION, YOU IMAGINARY RECEPTIONIST! I bet you’re a dude, too. I bet you’re a big ole man in my shiny, sparkly heels that are for my bridesmaid outfit.
I’m starting to think having the ability to track my packages MIGHT be more of a problem than of any actual help.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go catch up on my filing (read: check the delivery area 3 more times) while picturing a large man doing some soft shoe or running a marathon or something in my high heeled shoes.
I woke up this morning to discover everything I owned was either: a) dirty b) too hot to wear in Los Angeles in May c) needed ironing, or d) needed to be worn with spanx (read: the fabric is so thin, you could see the outline of the mole on my buttocks without spanx smushing everything into a smooth silhouette). I was already running late for work. Consequently, I am wearing spanx today. At my workplace that has a casual dress code. I either need to: a) plan ahead better/do laundry more often b) buy more t-shirts c) iron more often or d) embrace the spanx. Introducing my co-workers to the (totally tiny and not gross) mole on my hiney is not an option. Sorry. I bet any of you out there in the internet can guess which one I will probably wind up doing. (Hint: Mama’s gonna buy some t-shirts!)