Christmas Eve
The other night while I was dumping my diatribe I completely forgot to mention something antithetical to its piss and vinegar. The back door at work faces west and has a great view of Pikes Peak. 5 p.m. around this time of year is always the sweet spot for sunsets. Bright orange clouds wreathed the silhouette of the summit. I stood at the top of the stairs to the parking lot for a minute or two admiring the sight. I don't have a way of comparing it to anything else in my experience. One sunset stands out in my mind, driving at 100 miles through Kansas and everything turned red from the setting sun. So I take these for granted and every day I get a new and beautiful sight.

On the drive home, five minutes later, those luminous clouds had turned dark gray without any hint that they had been touched by beauty. At first I was a bit upset but I reminded myself that one has to enjoy the moment.

spivak sits at his desk, eyeing the clock waiting for it to run out. Things are slow so spivak is peeking at his book Coyote Rising now and again. The day is Christmas Eve Eve where everyone's secret Santa is revealed. This year management decided to encourage people to bring in their kids so they can get gifts too. The office was infested with about twenty kids between the ages of five and eight years old.

"Excuse me mister." asks a little girl.
"What?" asks spivak in response.
She points at the book, "Did you read that whole book?"
"Yes. Yes, I did." shrugs spivak.
"Wow."

Needless to say raddidge is now busting my balls, calling me a breeder and repeating how her womb is not open for business and never will be a cornucopia for my spawn.

raddidge says, "Piece of shit breeders.."