On Tuesday I forgot to download The Blog on my lunch break. By the time I remembered that there was a new issue out I was on the way home and my computer here is such a piece of shit that I won’t even attempt to open a PDF. That’s like the equivalent of asking me to do calculus when I’m drunk.

When I arrived at work the next day I decided to take a Walk On The Wild Side and print out the newest issue for a little early morning reading.

Risky, I know–but I like to break a sweat before 9 AM. We’re livin on the edge!

I opened up the issue and everything was going great. I did a quick scan-through to check it for nudie pictures. I didn’t want a repeat of last week where I left the boobs laying on my desk at the end of the day.

For the record, I only like to print out the hardcore stuff afterhours. (That’s a lie, I don’t print out any hardcore porn at all. Just the softcore stuff that tells a story. Ignore that information please.)

By this point I thought I was totally in the clear so I sent it off to the printer, but made sure to scurry out there immediately in case any nosy nellie’s were perusing for personal printing. (YES! Alliteration. It makes me feel so smart.)

I safely grabbed my copy and stuffed it in my purse back in my office. That’s when it happened. I heard a distinct click-clack coming toward my office… it was The Boss and she was gaining on me by the second. At that moment my screen was displaying two naked people on a mattress.

If it’s art you can’t get fired for looking at it, right?

I believe that’s in the constitution or something.

You have the right to free speech, to bear arms, and to look at porn at work as long as it’s “tasteful.”

I was in 100% panic mode, so I did what every mature adult would do faced with this kind of situation.

I turned off my screen.

Close call kids, close call.