here... 

The fridge at work on the other hand, is covered with magnetic poetry pieces.  Know what I'm talking about?  They're little magnets with individual words on them and you put them together to make poetry.  I like them.  It feeds my OCD(all the words in line and fitting together perfectly sort of thing) to organize those words(stare at the wall of words like John Nash in "A Beautiful Mind").  They have different themed ones like "religious magnetic poetry" and "Mother-daughter magnetic poetry"(Which are the two that we have at work right now).  Each theme has words that fall in those categories.  Know what I mean?  Like the religion one has words like "Holy", and "Jesus" and the Mother-daughter one has words like "Stroller" and "Nap".  Put them two together, and you get some pretty funny poems. 

Like:  "Never give blood to a crying fish."

or

"Health food is pure evil sin in a diaper."

or

"You let responsible spirit kiss my belly."

or

"Forgive me Lord, I want your sister to accept it crying"

A few weeks ago, I put together a phrase that read, "Jesus saves his love for a heavy drink." 

A week later, I saw that someone(I have my guesses) had replaced the words "a heavy drink" with the word, "you". 

So I replaced the word "you" with the words, "a cute dress". 

A few days later, I noticed that someone had put the sentence back into the pool of letters. 

Apparently, someone at my work is down with the JC and maybe I upset her delicate sensibilities. 

Actually, I know exactly who it is.  She's a new employee.  An evangelical X-tian down with the JC like you wouldn't believe.  I guess her grandfather was a preacher of some kind or other.  A timid, mousy, quiet kinda gal.  A very nice gal, actually.  Really into kids' books.  Used to be a librarian or something(fits the profile, dunnit?)  I have no proof that she dispersed my words, but there's no one else at the workplace that would find my little phrase to be offensive enough for them to do something about it, you know?  It's like she's the defender of the faith, the vanguard of the X-tian army, standing ever constant vigil. 

But like I said, she's a nice gal, so I decided not to press the issue and just leave it alone. 

There was a part of me that was tempted(oh so tempted) to push the envelope, try to find the most offensive combination of words(catered to her temperment and sensibilities) to put on the fridge, but then she'd complain, I'd have to have a little talk with some people(or worse, have to have a "store meeting" over it), then the fridge poetry will be taken away, and then no one gets to have any fun, you know? 

There's a part of me that still enjoys watching people cry, and the bully in me wants to give it to those people that walk around with a sign around their neck that reads, "Please let me have it", but then I heard that inside every bully is a scared little fat kid.  So the bully inside me has a scared little fat kid in it, I guess. 

That's too meta. 

It's late.  I should go to bed.  I have to work tomorrow. 

Good night, good morning.