This is one of those days when I wish me employer provided an explosives field.


I'm filled with a rage that is bubbling in my chest, making me want to scream.

Or to go to the window and lob armed hand grenades out of it, just to watch them explode. It's at times like this that I idly day dream of sending grenades into fields with a grenade launcher, watching the resultant explosions send showers of dirt and flame and smoke into the air.


That doesn't make me weird, does it?