If you had $20 million

I sorta got this from Smitten.

If you won $20 million in the lottery, what would you do with it?

First, I’d endow a scholarship in honor of my Bub. The woman never finished 8th grade, but set aside money to make sure her grandkids could go to college.

Second, I’d quit my job. And not just quit, mind you. I’d go out in style. We’re talking “sharing thoughts with all the idiots” kind of style. People would be talking about it at my funeral. “You remember that day Howard quit? Oh man, that was fan-fucking-tastic.”

Third, I’d travel. There are lots of places I want to go; Ireland, Scotland, England, Australia, Africa (photo safari, mind you).

And last, I’d find me a wonderful woman, preferably a blonde genius who looks like Goldie Hawn. Well, I’d probably do this before I set sail to see the world. I mean, who wants to travel alone? If anyone knows a blonde-genius-Goldie-Hawn-lookalike, can you send her my way? Chances are slim to none that I’d win the lottery, but maybe I can find the woman first, then get the money.

You know what? Screw the money. Find me the woman.


Vegetation Vandal Redux

The Vandal has struck again. Over the weekend, someone came in and cut off all but about 6 or 8 plant leaves. The plant looks really bad.

This place has become like a country under seige. The security guards are frisking everyone and confiscating all sharp objects. We’ve had to turn in our pencil sharpeners, letter openers, and staple pullers. These can be used to remove the leave from the stem and they’re taking no chances whatsoever.

There’s a rumor going around that they’re going to start random chlorophyl tests. With my luck, I’m going to get busted.

Management: “Howard, you tested positive for chlorophyl this morning.”

Me: “It’s not mine. I don’t do that stuff.”

Management: “Well, your tests came back positive. This doesn’t look good.”

Me: “It was lettuce. I put lettuce on my sandwich and must have forgotten to wash my hands.”

Management: “What about the knife in your desk drawer? We confiscated it and it tested positive too.”

Me: “Uh. That’s the, um, knife, I, um, used to cut the sandwich. It must have gotten some chlorophyl on it then.”

Management: “Sure. We believe you. Can you step outside for a minute, please?”

Me: “Heh, heh. Sure. I’m sure this is all just a big mistake. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go look for the real killers…uh, I mean vandals.”

Me: (dials phone) “Hello, Johnny C? Hey man, the test ain’t legit and I’m in deep shit. I need you right now so I can beat this some how.”

Johnny C: “Hold tighty, Whitey, I’m comin’ alrighty. I’ll befuddle those hicks and leave them holding their dicks. Don’t worry, cracker, I’ll mow ’em down like a weed whacker. Don’t be scared, white mouse, Johnny C is in da hizzouse!”

Stay tuned!