A serious retarded monkey situation

I'm just now wrapping up my day, after having what we like to call a "split shift" here at the newspaper I work for. That's where I work in the morning, have the afternoon off and then come back at night, usually for some sort of meeting. We have to be here in the morning no matter what for deadline, since we an afternoon paper — the only one left on the planet.

Let me tell you, it is so great to head back to work again at 6 p.m. And by that I mean it really sucks. However, it was nice to lie in the sun by the pool for a little while this afternoon.

Coming into the office late at night alone can be a little creepy, especially in this old building. Tonight I was lucky because Josh, another reporter, was working late, too. This has a downside — only that I don't get much work done when we are discussing his up coming trip across the United States or how to create links on my blog. (By the way, I now have a couple links on my blog, let me know if anyone else wants to be included).

But I did get to hear in great detail about what a moron the spokeswoman for the local hospital is. (Do I get paid for this time, since Josh is passing on his depth of knowledge as he departs and I step in to assume more responsibility on the health beat?).

I promised Josh that I would write a blog entry about him when he leaves, since his tireless efforts to get our columnist to write a column about him have failed so far (and Josh only has about a week left to convince him). My tribute to Josh is going to take some deep thought and preparation to really capture the essence of our working relationship, so it's not going to happen tonight. But here is a preview:

We were complaining about this new system that we have to work with. Josh's analysis of it was that a retarded monkey could have done a better job.

I was kind of half listening and replied, "I could have done a better job."

"That would have been a serious retarded monkey situation," he said.

Well I guess I asked for that one. I've learned I can never let my guard down with Josh; I always have to be in quick come-back mode. Unfortunately, he is way better at it than me.

On the other hand, he sometimes gives me the best compliments ever. A couple days ago, while complaining about how I hadn't updated this blog recently, he described it as his "liquid crack cocaine," and a "glimpse into my tortured soul." Wow, I mean, I knew this was an eloquent, provacative and cleverly written page-turner that rivals Dave Berry and Shakespeare both at the same time, but I had no idea it was sparking addictions.

Lesson learned: Someone else besides my mom is reading my blog. (Mom, sorry I haven't called you back, I will soon)