Dry-erase ink Junkies

Something's gone loonie with the penned-in folks around me.

This morning I saw a bunch of them leaving a conference room with glassy eyes, their lips and nostrils a veritable rainbow. After they passed I went into the room to find a dozen uncapped dry-erase markers on the floor.

I haven't been able to get any work done from the distractions around me; people are spinning around in their chairs and walking along the top of the cubicle walls like circus performers.

And I can't use my white board anymore 'cause no pens.

Itchy

Just stared down the rat that lives in the compostor.

In my performance hypnosis class, I've only successfully entranced a mouse but the real world application of my skills against the rat was darn ompressive if I say so myself. I'm looking forward to getting good enough so that the rat can be completely under my power.

I should start making a list of things I want to have the rat do so that, when the hypnosis takes effect, I have commands in mind.

Too often people feel like bringing something under one's power is the main point of hypnosis when getting your subject to perform meaningfully is almost more important. It's always a disappointment, if not potentially dangerous, to command your subject do the firt thing that pops into your head. It's possibly the most common hypnosis misconception.

One other misconception is that people, creatures, whatever, develop something similar to superpowers when under hypnosis. You can make your rat think it can ride a bike but it will certainly get caught up in the spokes if it tried.

I'd like to avoid that with the rat that lives in our compostor.

My trashcan...

...sprouted some foots today and started kicking me from under the desk.

I nonchalantly moved it about an arms length thinking that if it couldn't reach me but it just walked over because it had feet.

Is it mad because of the balsamic vinegar that leaked through the liner?

No one likes being sticky.

I need to remember some toenail clippers on Monday. I don't want scars to spoil my shin-modelling career.

That's my income, you know.

Trying not to think about...

The mail won't stop. We breed small dogs that like to eat the mail. The dogs got too small to eat the mail fast enough. They get full TOO FAST.

Now too many too small dogs that aren't good for much.

Advice?