I believe that most of us work pretty hard, people. I believe that. Some people get money for nothing and chicks for free (if this is you, you're corny), and some people are allowed to be hopelessly inept yet comical hospital orderlies, but most of us have to work a steady something or other (9A - 5P; there was a whole movie about ladies who do this, and Dolly Parton was the hero). HeightFive appreciates the working man - there's honor in discipline and sweat and grind. Just be careful about those security cams and boxes so you don't get fired; you tryin to build a clubhouse?
As for me, I fucking work IT, all the livelong day. This means that I knock people out with my wit and foxiness and get all my needs met while prancing around the city in tight jeans. OH WAIT. I forgot momentarily. Me working it actually = lounging in my apartment, record shopping and paying full price, and sometimes going to the bookstore and Trader Joe's and thinking of blog ideas while standing in line. Anyway, I've lost my topic again. The point is that today we celebrate those who work it, even though they don't do it as well as I do and never could. Hit it, Aes!
(when you get back from Medieval Times, I mean)

"Labor"
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