"It All Seems Funny, Kinda Like a Dream"

Not like I have to tell you, but it's Hair Band Friday here in my office, as it is every Friday. Things are winding down after our five-day bender following the US Men's curling team's Bronze Medal victory last Friday. I'm busting out some cross examination outlines, which is enough to make several of the ladies in here more moist than well-baked banana bread. Tawny, who might have had a little too much coke, can't stop dancing on the north stripper pole. She's been at it for like four hours. Meanwhile, Brandy took some X and is making out with the window. And Heather is passed out spread-eagle at the bottom of the south stripper pole, wearing nothing but clear stilettos and thigh-high red fishnet stockings. Lesson learned: never bet a former stripper that she can't finish a half a bottle of Stoli in 15 minutes, especially after she's taken and handful of quaaludes. Dead-horsing just isn't the same as the real thing. Maybe it's the mesacline, but today has been a sentimental Hair Band Friday. The last three songs to come through my totally oversized speakers were "To Be With You" by Mr. Big, "Love Song" by Tesla, and "Ballad of Jayne" by L.A. Guns. In honor of Hair Band Friday, and the barrage of buxom bosoms that bounce into my office each Friday for a chance to one day say that they were "given my handrew," I invite you to check out this delightful link from a British bra maker (probably not safe for work, unless you work in bra design and testing, cosmetic surgery, or an office with only dudes, lesbians, or a combination of the two). Thanks to "NaviKate" Rohrer for sending me the link. Rock on Kate. Rock on.

And I swear to God, I will finish and post Mr. 10,000's bio either later today or sometime this weekend.