My partner is currently on a big Peanutbutter Captain Crunch kick.

I never really cared for the stuff as a kid. The commercials annoyed me, the voice-over was awful... really, although I was repressing it, the mascot just kind of creeped me out.

Now, looking at the box, I think I realize why.

The Cap'n is possessed.

Or high.

I'm not sure which - but really! Just look at him, with that bug-eyed, vacant stare! And half the boxes say "Crunch-ma-tize me, Cap'n!" on them!

Maybe it's a cult.

Of course, you could probably argue the same for just about any children's cereal, but still. Dude's right up there with that bear that goes all weird over the fabric softener.

I went to a seminar / workshop thing today for work. Mostly it was nice to get away from the cube and the phone for a day. I did learn some stuff on electronic discovery, regulations, and technology as it relates to records retention issues... most of which would bore you, dear readers, to tears. I did, however, make the following real-life realizations:

- Avoid catered wraps with Mystery Sauce in them. No. Really.

- Conference rooms are inconveniently distant from the toilets

- Although there are not nearly enough bathrooms, they have complimentary coffee pots every fifty yards. It's like a network of oases in a desert of flowery carpet and uncomfortable furniture.

- The spelling of the plural of "oasis" (although to be fair, I looked that one up just now)

- There is nothing to make one feel like an enormous geek quite like being one of thirteen people (out of roughly a hundred) who know what Second Life is.... and the only one left with a hand up when the speaker says "how many have an account?" (To my relief, the fellow next to me later admitted to having multiple characters in World of Warcraft.)

And now, having gotten this much typed, I think I will now give thanks that our house is small and does not require the same hundred-yard-dash I performed at the hotel.

There is an adage that an infinite number of monkeys at an infinite number of keyboards would eventually reproduce the entire works of Shakespeare. I'm not sure about that, but apparently 45,000 monkeys at the same number of keyboards will mostly type "me too."

Let me explain.

At work, something went kaflooie. A workflow item for some reason I do not understand wound up being sent to everyone in the company with an email address. Worldwide.

It took an hour of people hitting "reply all" and expressing their confusion before the "STOP HITTING REPLY ALL" messages started. They also continued for the rest of the day. Someone posted replied saying that we should all stop replying, as it was a virus (which one of my co-workers pointed out is much like shouting "bomb" on an airplane).

Days later, the server was still intermittently belching out delayed messages from the initial onslaught. Some people railed. I mostly found it an amusing study in sociology. Nowhere else can you find such idiocy - including the woman who responded to EVERYTHING (whether in her own language or not, including several requests to be removed from the mailing list) with "Neither do I. I have someone looking into it." and the other woman who did the same, but with the words "SPAM. STOP REPLYING."

In news from the depths of the homeowner trenches, I came home today to find my house at 56 degrees and the furnace most decidedly not on. The culprit? Some sensor that had gotten coated with, as near as anyone can tell, airborne laundry detergent residue. Apparently all vent-fronted furnaces in laundry rooms do this eventually. I am down $156 for the service call, but at least the house didn't blow up or anything.

Pardon me, lads, as I depart into another girly rant, but...

Scented tampons.

What. The. Hell?

Number One, my nose is about two feet north.

Number Two, if anyone has their nose Down There at that time of the month... well, they shouldn't.

Number Three... if the scent is actually THAT STRONG that other people can smell it just walking past...

Pardon me, my dear, but I couldn't help noticing... what is that delightful perfume you're wearing?

*titters* Why, it's Playtex Ultra Absorbant!

.... or is it like the New Car Smell everyone's supposedly so gaga about, that they're now finding is carcinogenic? Because, yeah, I hate being a girl right now, but I'm not sure that rotting out my girl-parts is going to fix the issue.

In other news, I have cramps, we're out of tequilla, and my partner is five states south. Which means I'm going to have to go get my own.

Bugger.

So, I've been wasting an inordinate amount of time on the RPG Motivational Poster thread

Which inspired me to create the following...

Thought I would share in hopes it would bring a giggle or two.