Computron Wants To Live

Aye... what's good, Smogmonster? 

A whole lotta nothing. Binging The Office, enjoying the company pool, feasting up on mandarins and delicious iced coffee. Not to mention, fixing my sleep schedule, Little Dog in tow. Ever met a rat terrier who loves oranges?

I deserve it - as 71's glorious leader, I'm owed a week or two of Lazy. Often! After all, isn't that what upper management is for...?

Fret not, MidLivvians; as always, our crack team of disuting freaks - that is, Animators - are on the case. Of course, the A-Team (pictured below) is currently preoccupied by an upcoming semi-related music video project... y'know, the Super Jack one?... but, the Expendables - that is, "Saif Animadness Funhouse (ਸੈਫ ਐਨੀਮੈਡਨੈੱਸ ਫਨਹਾਊਸ)" - are keeping the MidLife ship a-sailin'.

"A fire hazard waiting to happen!" as if. 

What's interesting is, we've been repeatedly warned by OSHA (or, the Obtuse Stupid Heads Association) that our working conditions are, quote, "Unsafe", and, "A Complete Violation Of Basic Human Rights", and, "Almost Certainly Going To End In Mortal Disaster". Which is absolutely silly. 

Sure, things are tough, now. But hey - I'm no monster. I'm the Smog-Monster! The vast majority of my underlings are generously blessed the minimum legal wage - And! - management is even prepared to consider the installation of one brand-new window unit A/C somewhere near the general vicinity of employee quarters! Should production meet schedule!

Not to mention, the newly implemented (mandatory) "Crazy Costume Sundays"! What a riot!

Note: animé characters/references will not be accepted as participation

Of course, my office stays a frosty 60°. Such is life; the mad Captain of the ghostly USS Cygnus. Or... I guess, SS Guppy. It's lonely at the top; the literal top, of the building, y'know? Great view. One very few - again - deserve. But hey - as I grow older, and wiser, I've come to understand, perhaps, not everyone can be a Smogmonster. Or a Doctor Reinhardt. Or a Captain Horatio Magellan Crunch.

Sometimes, as I drown through the murky depths of our blessed company pool; staring through bloody chlorinated eyelids; I just fleetlingly remember. That old thought. The vision really breathed underwater... and maybe, it still does.