Today is brought to you by the good people at Watching a Speaker Bomb On Stage. I am locked up in a full body constant douche chill of discomfort. The upside is my goose flesh has turned into a superhero exoskeleton and I’m pretty sure I am bulletproof right now. I’m not sure if this is an off day or a square speaker to a round audience but either way he has lost most of the room. Wait, he is bringing out props and calling someone on stage.
False alarm. That stunk. I wish I could include some of the text strings I’m in right now but my coworkers didn’t sign up to have their smartassery published on the line. I will say I work with some funny ass folks and they are making this torture fun. The current discussion involves dislodging the giant chandelier above him.
The speaker has told a couple of personal stories and we are now working on backstories for everyone named. I’ve got to go because I need a synonym for sexworker.
One last thought; if I ever bomb this bad I hope that Gene Gene the Dancing Machine will boogie me off the stage after someone rings a giant gong.