March 29, 2005-5:54 a.m.

There's a guy at work who works in the IS department. I like to call him the Mouthbreather because (hello?) he breathes through his mouth a lot.

He is also a Pampered Chef rep but I would not eat anything he made because I suspect there might be hygene issues.

Yeah, I know. I'm totally judging a book by its cover. Sue me!

Anyway, the other day, I'm sitting at my desk and the Mouthbreather comes over to show me some Ozzie box set or some shit that he got where Ozzie is singing with Donnie Osmond or some similar cultural icon.

As I'm sitting there employing the most thinly veiled of efforts at seeming interested, I am wondering to myself, "What is it about me that would make this guy think I'm an Ozzie fan. I don't even wear eyeliner!"

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**Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.**

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