There are 1,480 living species of cacti, all but one indigenous to the Americas.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016 | |

Now we’re in a pickle. 

Because if I get up to clean it, my boss is going to be watching me do it and wondering why I would need to clean up the seat of my chair.

What do I do? 

If the blood sets I’m just gonna have to move to South Dakota and start life over there because the other alternative is asking the all-male building maintenance to please switch me out a chair that doesn’t have fluid and tissue on it. 

At last, the Big Boss leaves and I leap at that chance to clean up.

I grab some paper towels and wet them in the ladies room. 
So far so good. 
I start to scrub. 
I wiggle.
I dance.
As soon as I do that MOTHERFUCKING nosy-ass Melody frumps over to scream “What are you doing, Kel?” 

Now, there were some desperate ass motherfuckers at this job who didn’t have any friends outside of work, so the would jump like puppies at a biscuit-can anytime humans were interacting. 

So, four of these schnauzers gather around my bloody cube and are asking me “What are you doing?

Yeah, Kel, what’s up, I'm kinda bored wanna grab a drink after work?” 

‘Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.’

- Ian Malcolm, Jurassic Park

pro tempore

temporarily; for the time being.