not to read one more crazy, annoying review of Flannery.
At least not at work. I think I already have too much of a rep for staring at the computer and muttering to myself. Better I stick to drawing genuflecting stick figures and read TMZ during my breaks. And muttering to myself.
At home...I guess I could read them at home. Irrate muttering is SOP here. Is it New Atlantic or is it a Scrappy puddle? The Atlantic or that towel bar that keeps falling out of the wall? The New York Review of Books or an empty box of Cheerios on the pantry shelf?
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