She was sooo busy. Really busy. Like no time.

She was sooo busy. Really busy. Like no time. So she wore Juicy sweats. That's how busy she was. Stopped doing her hair. And made her face dour. She had no time for herself.

She wore a Greek tragedy mask because she was too exhausted to show emotion. The boombox she carried would play Gregorian chants on loop. If she had to be miserable, then her boss

with her dithyrambs. Jan sang of her desire to advance humanity by producing übermensch children. She was looking for a sperm donor. Her former office mates hid in their cubicles

so she sashayed out of work two hours early and set off for Trunk Boulevard, where she knew she'd find exactly what she was looking for. In the third bar down, she explained to a s

haman that her ovaries had rusted up. The shaman immediately went into a trance. She waited 20 minutes & was about to go when he shouted "The knee of small gecko called Nobby will

devour your brain and save you 15% on your car insurance!" Great, she thought. Now he was a zombie car insurance salesman shaman. What else could go wrong?

Just then I heard a crash. I looked outside & saw that someone wrecked into my parked car & was driving away! The zombie car insurance salesman salivated at the sight of my brain.

She went for the bite; my uppercut connected. Teeth flew all around. She clicked her jaw into place and handed me her business card, I couldn't bear to tell her I didn't own a car.

It occurred to me that I hadn't quite got this pugilist dentistry quite down pat just yet, especially since my commute was limited to an hour by bike, but I was getting there!