You know you've hit your nadir at work when you're jonesing for actual responsibility over internet horseplay. I'm with Garfield on this one: fuck Mondays.
New light reading up at Retort, a yarn by the name of "Fonzi." And I'd be remiss not to extend propers to the real Fonzi, a clerk at the Shell station on the corner of Foster and Western and my muse for this tale of high school alienation.
Check it out here.