The Cure For Cancer

I never thought that blog would help me at work, but that fucker devised a plan so ingenious that it’s scoring me points left and right. So, all I do, is type out my posts in a word document, and put a title at the top of the document, like “Cure for Cancer” and then drink some coffee and start vigorously typing about my problems, music, and whatever else it is that I write about. People in my vicinity can hear me clacking away, and they’re thinking to themselves, “wow, Hotthobo is really working super hard” (fyi, no one calls me “Hotthobo” at work. And I’ve always hated it when people who clearly know my name call me by my dj moniker, unless of course we're already tight, and it’s a sarcastic type of thing). My boss or some other authority figure sneaks up on me and sees my screen, well, no big deal. I'm only working on finding the CURE FOR FUCKING CANCER!!! So I’m a hero, my blog gets his fix, and I’m left feeling only slightly guilty about the time I’ve used to dupe everyone. Pretty much a win-win (if I could sleep at night with a clear conscious).
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