dead men tell no tales...

I got Photoshop on my work machine. I got so happy I put my face on Barry Zito's body... Ahem. So anyway, the workday is nearly complete. Still waiting on some fuckbags to phone me back regarding some product testimonials. Why don't people jump at the chance to be used as tools in the hands of the marketing arm of a privately-owned company with no corporate oversight? Fuckbags, the lot of them. But I'm in a decent mood. Though, I will be without my hon for dinner tonight... the whole Ruth's Chris thing... so I will either make myself pasta, or chicken. Not sure yet. But if it's chicken, it won't be stir-fry... i think i'll just fry up some chicken in a pan with olive oil and soy sauce... yum.