Hall of the Monkey King

I just woke from a dream. I was running across oddly shaped rooftops made of colorful plastics and metals, but it was getting dark so I barely noticed them. It seems I was in some sort of race though the object didn't seem to be to win. I remember coming to one of the last rooftops and pausing. It seemed slightly dangerous and it sloped rather sharply. The surface of the roof looked something like shoots (not the bamboo variety but the "...and ladders" type. At the end of this slide was a large tree. In front of the tree stood a very pretty girl that signaled for me to come ahead as she would help keep me from hurting myself. So I took her to her non-vocalized word and realized I was a sucker as she stepped aside at the last minute allowing me to slam heartily ballwards into the tree. I remember that I felt disheartened and slightly ashamed. Distancing myself from everyone, with a select group of people I wandered off. Here I remember trying to seek approval fr...

And to begin with, I will give the requisite gripe about work that, let's face it, those of you who have good jobs use to reaffirm this fact. Because, really, how can you honestly compare your job to one that has a tv show dedicated to it or has been circulated through e-mail ad nauseam (ie. a job where you run the risk of having a jelly fish sucked through a tube into the crack of your ass.) My job is a soulless lifeless job. This attracts a certain type of person. And they have, in all their stereotypical goodness, landed into the cubicles surrounding me. We will return to this momentarily. For now I am here to tell you that this post contains a purpose. And this purpose is what gives life to this paragraph. I need help. On several matters. So, if you kind folk could see it in your hearts to lend a hand I would be eternally grateful. And by eternally, I mean until you've forgotten about it. I have a passion for the arts. Specifically music, but I have at the very lea...