The boot in repose.
The boot in the office.
The boot at lunch.
The boot at drinks.
Attempts to rotate these photos failed, because blogger apparently don't see this as something that someone would need to do, ever.
The boot refused photos to be taken of it in the amusing "I just spattered paint on my boot the first day I'm wearing it" moment at work. Boot felt that this would both be demeaning, and the final confirmation of my insanity at my place of work, when I paused from the task at hand to photograph my footwear. The author wishes to acknowledge that the boot has a point.
The boot refused photos to be taken of it in the amusing "I just spattered paint on my boot the first day I'm wearing it" moment at work. Boot felt that this would both be demeaning, and the final confirmation of my insanity at my place of work, when I paused from the task at hand to photograph my footwear. The author wishes to acknowledge that the boot has a point.
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4 comments:
i am becoming increasingly concerned that you are not getting enough human contact hours... possibly you should go out and do something with a being capable of talking back? just a thought...?!
sleep,
work,
eat,
drink
hmmm,
sounds like the boot is struck on the treadmill of production - crushed under the heel of our capitalist overlords.
That can't be good for the sole.
Dan, you are awful.
I know a kitten heel mule that would love to know what Boot is doing friday night.
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