Since the collapse of the Chilean mine the United Mine Workers of America have been recruiting hard. I thought that a work force made entirely of genetically engineered guinea pigs would have insulated me from having to deal with union recruitment but damn the little buggers, someone smuggled a New York Times in during their monthly "Rock, Paper, Scissors Tournament" and it's been hell ever since. Technically I have to let the recruiters make their case, but since they can't fit down the guinea pig sized holes and I'm now refusing to let the guinea pigs out of the mines I'm cool. Needless to say my elevator down to the hot springs pool isn't getting done any faster.
I've even been denied the comfort of confiding in my confidential journal. This morning I noticed that months of pages have been ripped out! I'm gonna assume someone was tipped to my fundraising efforts for the Rangel Center and needed to cover their ass. I stand by my plan though. Those CUNY kids needed a reason to believe in international affairs again and I think Russian Strippers were the best way to combine the mission of the program with the money the Center needed to operate. It may have been a poor idea to use Rangel's W and M stationary to send the invites to the "September to Remember Strip-a-Thon" but it got the job done.
Point Being - my journal has a big empty spot in it and the spine is all floppy. I can't get into a good frame of mind for composing when my journal has been violated.
I sent Jinx http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/17575127 to Staples to find me a nice Hemingway-type leather journal to continue writing in and the ass-hat comes back with THIS:
Seriously. Up until now I'd have said that a chinchilla as a personal assistant was the way to go but now I'm doubting his ability to follow simple instructions. I'm speechless - truly.
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