Pieces of radioactive evil...

Brace yourselves.
I have the answer to one of life's greatest mysteries. You ready? I can't tell but I think some of you are standing up. That's right, you're STANDING UP while reading my blog!!! Siddown, dangit! I know the fundamental reason why we grow old: bills. Yep. That's right. You heard it here first, folks.

Granted, the bills themselves are innocuous pieces of paper to the physical senses, just ink and shredded, pulpified, dehydrated tree--(the butchers!)--- but to the emotional mind, they're caustic pieces of radioactive evil, the parchment equivalent of hordes of zombies hungry for human brains!! I'm suggesting in my not-so-subtle yet inimitable style that it is the fear of bills that is the root of all suffering, gray hairs, tomato-eye, and the generally stuffy malaise of adulthood.

I don't say that work isn't good for the soul, but doing custodial work just to keep the health insurance industry er... healthy, is not my cup of tea.

Oh, and forthcoming, but not right soon, is my rant of all rants on the plight of the humble custodial worker! CUSTODIANS UNITE!!! Now is the winter of our discontent...