I always suspected that I might hate the Toronto Sun. Now I know for sure.
This morning, as I arrived at work, I was greeted by one of the most obnoxious women I've ever known -- for the purpose of discretion lets call her Mellen -- and asked if I was familiar with the Sunshine Girls. I replied that I've heard of them, but never actually seen one, because I don't read the Sun. The fifty-year-old divorce lawyer, and 3 time divorce then triumphantly presented me with a picture of herself emerging from some kind of water feature in a string bikini and what I've always heard referred to as a Farrah-Fawcette haircut. She asked me if I was ready for a laugh, but my response was closer to a choke or maybe a cough. I was hoping never to have to set my eyes on that much Mellen skin, but today my fate was sealed. I will spend the rest of my days resenting the Toronto Sun.
Mellen is getting the picture framed today (actually laminated which is worse) and mounting it on her wall. A copy of the original newspaper is currently sitting on the table in the staff room with a sticky note attached to it saying "yup that's me, Mellen". I'm sad to admit that I provided her with said sticky note. I wanted to scream 'GET YOUR OWN DAMN OFFICE SUPPLIES, YOU LAZY OLD DRAG QUEEN', but didn't have the nerve.
I am not impressed.
Oh well
jt
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