And That's Why I Meant Paris.

There's no use sugar coating it. The office has regressed into a picture book of bad breeding and ill manners. It's a bit like shopping the day after Thanksgiving only nothing is on sale and the leftovers aren't as good.

One homie from back east with a penchant for bright pastels (cause that's how we dress out here) doesn't seem to understand why everyone else isn't there to "be friends". His uppance did up and come when the Mandarin translating heifer looked him up on Facebook, like actually walked over to his monitor to catch the spelling of his name, and sent him a friends add request or whatever the hell it is.

Part of me is only going into the office this morning to see how all that plays out. The other part of me is always morbidly fascinated with what the Mandarin translating cow is going to shovel into his gob. Yesterday was not one, but two pork humbow, and then a nice plate of bacon and eggs, and I probably missed something, but he disappeared for a few hours and later came back with a sack full of mega-crisis and started in on his second feeding. I only pretended to be watching Friends in the break room, but I was actually doing "research".

The open air concept office environment also offers a great setting to look for another job.