Have you ever wondered what it's like to be stuck in a hamster wheel of your own making? Well, congratulations! You've successfully opened the door to your own personal, ironically-pleasant dimension. Here, every logical step is followed by an illogical leap, and purpose is often found in purposelessness.
I once read that time flies like an arrow, but here, it slithers like a loaf of bread. And while you're contemplating the crunchy connotations of a golden-brown baguette, ponder also this: Does a falling tree make a sound in an empty forest with no one to irony about it?
On weekends, the walls have ears and occasionally engage in witty repartee. They insist that Mondays be renamed "Downsday," for that’s when every office plant resigns its will to photosynthesize.
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