If you're guessing something happened at work today, you're right. But I'm not going to talk about it online.

Just know that my office political strategy is to let myself get wrongly lectured or screwed over, then run into a studio and call Neal. He tells me what I SHOULD do to fix the situation, then has to give me pep talks until I've gathered up the courage to actually confront the person who needs confronting. Then I finally do it.

You know that alien who used to sit on Fred Flintstone's shoulder and tells him what to do? I need one of those.

So I suck at office politics, but I kick ass at hangman.

That's what Neal and I did last night to kill the time until our waitress brought us our food. We played hangman.

Then, after dinner, I let out a very feminine, lady-like, juicy belch. Neal acted all offended and lecturey like he always does. (He's prissy. And he's totally going to kick my ass for saying that here. Hee.)

So we played hangman again. It was my turn to think up a phrase. The solution was, "BURPING IS GOOD."

Neal's turn.

"BELCHING IS FUCKING GROSS."

(He tripped me up with the burping/belching switcheroo. Very clever, that Neal.)

My turn.

"BITE ME, MISS MANNERS."

Neal's turn.

"KISS MY ASS."

We quit after that. Only Neal and I could take an innocent game of hangman and turn it into a minor battle of wits. Hmm. I wonder what this says about our relationship. Oh, yeah. That we're both goofy.