I have a confession to make.
I have an alter ego.
He's a 12 year old boy named Jeff.
He thinks farts and boogers are funny and likes poop jokes.
He loves Spongebob Squarepants but sometimes calls him Spoogeboob.
He also thinks blowing things up with firecrackers is way fun. What? Not like a car or anything, maybe just a Barbie doll. Cuz it would be fun to launch her into space. (Ok, fine, if you're going to cry about it I'll just take my old G. I. Joe and make it look like he's trying to hump her every time you dress her up.) Or like a garbage can...an old metal one so it would really echo. Man that would rawk!
Sometimes Jeff gets me in trouble like when I am convinced to launch myself from a backyard zipline. Yeah, bad idea.
Not everyone appreciates Jeff so he's not allowed to come out to play very often. But he does have one friend. At work, there's another lady who is really in touch with her inner 12 year old boy. His name is Barry.
You know I felt like crap earlier this week. And last week Barry was on vacation. Today Jeff and Barry were glad to be back together causing all sorts of trouble at work.
Here they are laughing at themselves at lunch. (Insert Beavis & Butthead laughs.....you said "insert," heh, heh heh heh!)
