Lewis poses the question: I plan on skipping out on my shift at Mountain Laurel—any suggestions for plausible excuses I might offer?

Mary says: Follow the example of my freshman—the PRT is broken (it must be broken every day for as much as they try that one), it was snowing, m printer was out of ink, or my most recent favorite, “Well, I was stepping out of my shower [thanks for the visual, Kevin] and I must have slipped because two hours later I woke up on the bathroom floor with a splitting headache.  [Here’s the best part…] So I was wondering if we could just sort of forget this ever happened?”  I suggest you try that last bit—if our managers “forget this ever happened” you may even get a paycheck for the shift you were skipping.

John says: I would offer that instead of a sick day, you were taking a social justice day—sometimes I get sick to my stomach when I think of coming into Mountain Laurel Burritos to pander whole grain organic food to Olsen twin look alikes in Ugg boots and furry Eskiho jackets.  PS. While real fur is offensive, I find acrylic fur perhaps even worse....

Sadie says: I once said that that my great aunt died and now, every time my Mom’s number shows up on my cell, there is a split second where I think she is calling to tell me that Ermintrude has passed and it’s all my fault for tempting fate.

Jaime says: If you aren’t man enough to tell the truth, why don’t you say you have a yeast infection or some other girlish trouble?

Lewis says: I’m going with 78 paper cuts from my new book project.  Any logical person would understand that 78 paper cuts is worse than one bout of the flu.

Look at those tasty candy colored ponies!

This printing press embodies the life that I want.

Feed the hungry.

Buy my art.

I am MelonHeadMan!.

Had I enough funds, space, and discarded volumes, I would make book structures even grander than this one.

My dream girl. Name begins with M.

A secret about you: Secrets stop when secrets become nonsecretive.  This was the message sent via email to one thousand secret-givers in our Department.  Our secrets cannot be secretive without hot dogs.  Hot dogs are inherently secretive.  Open the package, sniff, mind the water dribbling out, and what do you smell, exactly?  Secrets.  Secrets. Secrets sent via message to one water dog, when nonsecretive water our sniff.  Givers become hot dogs without email, sniff.  Our secrets sent dogs do you package, message, sniff.  Sniff.  Inherently stop nonsecretive dogs dribbling via message you sniff.  Smell givers the package to email hot secrets to one water message sniff.  Via message are mind water package dogs sniff.  Nonsecretive via dogs message one to sent secretive stop sniff.