Common Usage, Minute Terror, Ant Crack, Chicken Porn

I came back to work from five days off. I sat at my desk. I began my computer ministrations. I scratched an itch on my left arm. Then another. Then looked at the itchy. Then jumped up and made noises like the soundtrack to a chicken porn. I had dozens of tiny red ants crawling on my skin. Which wasn't bad, considering there were thousands on my desk, making a hell-bent-for-leather effort to get the Tootsie Roll that had been sitting on it for a week while I was away. I proceeded to practice a tiny, sad version of genocide. My quote aloud when done was, "This goes against every fiber of what is in my Buddhist nature! I mean a life is a life is a life, but Jesus Christ there were a fucking million of them!"

I'm not sure how many contradictory blasphemies were in that sentence, but at least I have learned that Tootsie Rolls are apparently Ant Crack.

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