This post superis entirely unrelated to anything which may be supergoing on today. This post title superis about yesterday when Alex superwas back in town and we went superbowling at a superbowling alley. I actually don't superknow what else to supertalk about, but I just superfelt like I superwas so clever in supercoming up with that post title that I just superhad to use the name. So yeah, we superwent superbowling. It was superfun, but I superlost. Alex supergot a small rubix cube from one of those machines where you superput money in and superturn the thing and superget a little plastic bubble. Then he superbroke it by supersolving it too fast. And now I superthink this joke is supergoing on a little too long.

Superman Should Be Audited.

First thing is first. Happy Groundhog's Day. Punxsutawney Phil you crazy weatherman you. I remember when I first heard about that guy. It was in kindergarden. Except. I pictured a different animal than the one they showed on television. Also. I thought he was the only one. Like. The last of his race. I learned a lot in kindergarden. Except. For how to spell it. But. What I remember most is the manners they taught. No one wants to be a Mr. Bungle. I still use those lessons in life now. I say please. And. Thank you. I wait for people to have food before I eat. And. I learned how to tie my shoes. In fact. I still tie them the same way. Kindergarden is citizen training. And. Some people need to go back. And. Get reprogrammed.

Second thing is second.
Sometimes. At work. I wish I had a secondary position. That would be the. Hi-Five manager. I would approve any. And. All Hi-Fives. Like. No one can receive one unless I issue one. And. If someone were to receive more than five
hi-fives would require two signatures. One from me. And. The vice-hi-five manager. I don't know who the vhf would be. Also. I could put a stop payment on a hi-five. And. Issue a replacement hi-five. But. I wouldn't do direct deposit hi-five. To bad hi-five manager isn't real. Yet.

Superman should be audited.

Lastly.
Dave says I keep talking about super heroes. And. It's probably true. In fact. It should just go ahead. And. Be it's own category. Today. I was discussing whether. Superman really worked forty hours a week. Completely accepting the fact that he came from another planet is one thing. But. Seriously. How can he be a full time employee at one of the largest metropolitan areas. An area so large it's called Metropolis. And. Give his job less than 100%? I mean I work 40 hours. And. That is pretty draining. Granted he probably has more stamina than I do. But. He's usually not at his desk. And. Even if you accounted for his super speed. And. Maybe he thinks about his stories while he's supposed to be saving someone. That still doesn't explain what happens if he gets an evaluation at work. Besides. His constant absenteeism would probably get some attention. And. Then. He'd get written up. Like. Mr. Kent it has come to the attention of the upper management. That you are constantly late. You take many breaks. You take even longer on lunch. And. You leave early all the time. Also. Then. If they wanted to follow up on that. He'd probably get shadowed. Or. Even if they let that slide. Eventually. There would be the routine performance evaluation. Don't tell me he's going to not save someone. And. Manage to get rid of a supervisor. And. Even if he did do his selective saving of double L. She's always getting into trouble. Then. I wondered why he never played professional sports. Or. At least at the collegiate level. Then. I wondered. Does Superman even have a degree? Again. How did he land that job? And. Even after all that work logistics. In his down time. What's he got going?
He doesn't go out and get trashed on Friday night does he? And. If he's out saving people. Does he accept gratuities? And. If yes. Does he report that money to the IRS? Because. Even Superman has bills. It's part of being a part of the soceity. And. A capitalist economy. Then. My office mate said. Superman should be audited. It's probably true though. He could probably survive off that job. But. If he did get audited. And. They found out he cheated on his taxes. They'd write about it in the newspapers. The headlines would say. Superman cheats on taxes. But. It woudln't matter. You couldn't arrest him. And. Even if you did arrest him. And. He went peacefully. It'd be the honor system with him. What are you gonna do lock him? Also. No point in posting bail. He can go wherever he wants. Superman should be audited.

Let's see a few things.

First. And. Four most. I'd like to thank Mary Jane Watson. Also. Known as. Mary Jane Watson Parker. Also. Known as. Skelley. Also. Known as Skeletor. Ok. Not Skeletor. But. Anyway. I'd like to thank her for sending me the freshest swingline stapler known to man. Now. I have something that can handle the capacity of things I have to staple on a daily basis. I'm not going to use it yet. It's not nrfb. But. It's still in mint condition. I'm not going to use it. Until I get the official Swingline. By the way. It's burgundy. Not red. But. I'm not complaining. Thank you Skelley.

That stapler is my transition into a work story. Or. Two stories.

A. I dunno how the conversation progressed to this. But. My OM. Said something. About. Papers blowing off the desk. Under the door. Into the hallway. Out the front door. Into the parking lot. Then. He said. Nothing but net. And. I said. Ok.

Warning this was funny when I said it. But. It's probably not as funny now. But. I said.

Since we're accountants. Don't you mean. Nothing but gross?

Yeah. I know it's pretty bad. But. Seriously. It was funny when I first said it. Then. He goes. ... Nope. I think it's still net.

I would say you had to be there. But. Then it would sound like. Something super cool happened. So. I'll just say. If it was a sitcom with a laugh track. That probably would have gotten a chuckle.

3. There is not a way to lock the door from the inside. It has to be locked from the outside. So. I suggested if you wanted to fall asleep. You could stand in front of the door. And. Lean on it. Then. If someone were to come in the office. If they knocked first. And. Then. Opened the door. It should startle you enough to wake up. And. Play off the fact like you were just leaving. Because. They would think they accidentally opened it up on you. But. My OM says. Well. What if they don't knock. And. They come flying in? Then. I said. You'd probably get thrown on the ground. And. Then. Play off like they bumped into you from that point. Then. I said. If you were sound asleep. And. It happened. Then. They'd probably think they just knocked you unconscious. And. When. You woke up. It would be like you being un unconscioused.

Lastly. If you know me. You'll know I don't sing the write words to songs. For some reason. I said to myself. My name is who. My name is what. Chicka. Chicka. Mike Jones. Guess you had to be there.

I'm working on a new site about things to do with your AIM profile. Right now it's basically the stuff I used to have on killkaraoke, like rock papaer scissors and the random quote thing, and a few other things. The site is called AIM Profile Things so check it out. The design is a little bad right now, but I'll fix it soon.

That would be the sucky sequel. The hero from the first one who survived the first casual Friday the 13th would be like. I totally do need to not to star in the movie that launched my career. And. They'd get TV actors. The trailer for that movie would be. }Casual Friday the 20th. One man. No tie. One week later.{ Someone told me I shoulda got a career in advertising.
Also. My best ideas come at the worst times. I had two good inventions. A good domain name. All at times when I couldn't document them.
Oh yeah. Any nerds out there want to do my taxes?
Also.
It's like that. Except with more kung-fu. And. Less making out. And. The obligatory particle blur.