I work with mostly men at my day job so I can’t completely relate with Sharon’s story, however, I am male-crazy soo.. if a hot guy walked in my office.. I’d break all kinds of furniture too. Mostly on purpose to get his attention… nonetheless, Sharon, you’re not alone:

So, I work at a bank where I get so see a lot of sexy men every day. We need that. We have no men working in our office so us girls pass time with inappropriate talk about the opposite sex daily.

We have nicknames for most of the guys that come in looking hot. On this particular day, “Dark Chocolate” comes in and my co-worker says loudly, “Sharon, Dark Chocolate just left! Lookout your window!” I jump up from my chair – keep in mind we just built this $3 million bank with brand new furniture. I have a wrap-around desk aligning all the windows in my corner office. I leaned forward to pull up the blinds because I was afraid I might miss him getting in his car parked in front of my window. I grabbed the cord and pulled hard. Down comes these heavy expensive blinds and crash on my desk!! It was the loudest noise that echoed throughout the entire bank. He heard it from outside, stopped his car door from opening and is starred straight at me.

I made  my co-worker climb on my desk to rehang them as I covered up the huge gash in my desk with a fake plant.

It’s sometimes painful to be me, hence, I had to start a blog because, for my sanity, I have to know that other people share my pain.. and mortification. Britney baby, although I didn’t have two children by the age of 25, marry a white wanna-be-rapper who aspired to be ghetto, change accents when I change wigs or cry on national TV while I smacked gum and let snot run down my face for effect .. I do think we could be close friends. Call me.

Anywho, you know I’m Queen of blurting before braining.. this is why I’m categorizing myself with Britney Spears and.. Vice President Biden … away we go!!

Yesterday afternoon, two of my female coworkers and I got a sweet tooth. We work in the Merchandise Mart (in Chicago. On levels one and two there are endless opportunities for high calorie treats, I’m talkin’ every type of fast food vendor you can think of.  We started throwing out options: Cookies? No..  brownies? Nah.. cupcakes… maybe ice cream? Maybe… wait! Milkshakes!!! Ladies, I think we have a winner.

Because it was late afternoon and our brains are dead and perverted at this specific time of day.. we got on the subject of the “Milkshake,” song by Kelis – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZ-FAV9fBII.  One of my coworkers wasn’t aware of what “milkshake,” really meant. We then clued her in that “milkshake,” in this song, was a euphemism for a BJ (oral sex to a man.. you never know you’re audience.) She laughed and gasped… haha.. funny.. then it was over. Before we went downstairs I wanted to be polite to the Creative Director and Design Manager in the next room. So I went next door, walked in their office and said:

“Hi, we’re running downstairs real quick, would you guys like a blow job?” WAIT!!!!!! NO! NO! NO! NO!!!!!!! Lauren – Freudian Slip!!!!!! AHHHH!!

“Oh my goodness.. I’m so sorry…. I meant Milkshake. Oh my god… I… am.. horrified.. We were talking about this song because we’re getting milkshakes, right, and what it meant in the song..” Lauren.. just shut-up. Just turn around and walk off.

The Creative Director is a conservative gay man and the Design Manager is a female – both cool -  but, still – COME ON!!! They were immediately stunned – eyes shot wide open – followed by “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

UGH!! It hurts! It hurts so bad… make it stop!

Girl, you’re not alone if three pairs of feet fit in your mouth with room to spare. I feel ya, Britney baby.