I want HP3 on DVD NOW!

I'd like to take the time to apologize for the waning quality of my work (READ: posts). Reading back through, I've noticed several blatant typos and horribly written schlock that usually happens because I am unable to think in complete thoughts, and so what you are reading is more of a collage than a photograph. Or painting. Anyway, broken syntax and orthographic blunders aside, what you read from me is nowhere near as cacophonic as it is here in my brain. Doesn't bode well for my aspirations to find a copy-editing job once I leave this God-forsaken armpit of society, does it?

The dean of education recently acquired a new administrative assistant named Pam. I must say that my job was much easier before she came to the office. The problem I have with her is that she is CONSTANTLY talking, telling me where she is going and why she is going there and who she is going with and what she is going to get and when she's going to be back and how.... I DON'T CARE! It's not like her hundreds of brief absences from the office alter my job in any way... I still sit at the desk, still answer the incessant telephone, still contemplate the value of my life... whether she sits at her desk or goes and counts every sheet of recyclable paper in the store room on the other side of campus. So, let's you (the reader) and I think of this as my silent prayer to whatever higher being you (the reader) and I believe in that somehow, someway, Pam will stop. Stop talking. Stop going places so much. Stop breathing. Any of the three will work, though to be fair to myself, I wish death upon no one except for Dr. David Littrell and oh, I dunno, Anne Coulter.