I have to remember to ask the lunch ladies what they are actually serving in the bowls that look like chicken salad. After my tuna incident, I carefully chose a bowl that definitely had chunks of chicken on top. When I got back to my desk, however, I discovered that there was a big scoop of potato salad hiding underneath the chicken, above the lettuce. They make the most lethal potato salad in the world here, with a dressing of almost pure, red-hot English mustard. Understand, English mustard, in comparison with the weenie-ish American French’s Mustard, could be classified as a chemical weapon. Omigod….my stomach is wondering what I threw at it, and I am talking like a numpy (as Phil would say).
I know that Phil stole a march on me and linked to this in his journal after I saw it this morning, but I have to link to it as well: very cool tattoo shirts. What a great idea!
Since I’m indulging in gratuitous linkage, here’s a very cool flash site.
Back to work. Perhaps I’d better have some cooling yogurt first.