Whoa, it's Friday!

He watched as his tightly set up schedule, shattered in his controlling grip.

The glint in his eye was not so much mischievousness as much as it was evil.

The edge of his lip curled in a direction which implied appeasement.

His vivid loquaciousness hid the fact that he was running out of things to say.

Whoa! It's Monday?

As he saw another lawyer leave the restroom eyes wide and looking shocked at his arrival, he secretly wondered which of them were doing coke, and which were just excitable.

General loathing was too good for them.

The letter opener longes to bring sweet release, rending the envelope asunder.

Sweet, sweet funyuns.

I do not invade, I AM.