A Case of the Mondays on a Tuesday Night

This is a rant about how much I hate work more than the heat of a thousand burning suns.  And by work, I mean that obligatory thing most all of us do to avoid being homeless. I'm not referring to WORK that most of us dream of doing, WORK that is born from great inspiration, WORK that makes your insides hum, WORK that brings out the best in you, WORK that makes you excited about getting up in the morning. Yeah, that WORK I will most gladly and happily do.

I hate work more than:

• bamboo shoved under my fingernails
• waterboarding
• bathing in a river of sh*t
• listening to Michael Buble on repeat
• propping up of eyelids, Clockwork Orange styles, for forced viewing of Keeping up with the Sh*tKardashians, Jersey Sh*tShore, Sh*tty Housewives of Sh*tWhatevsCounty, Dancing with the Sh*ts, et al

Rant over. Thanks for listening.

EDIT: ps. This post is 75% hyperbole and 25% truth. Some folks were confused.