There's a chick at work who considers herself to be a bit of a prank queen.

Well, she is diabolical.

She is also clever enough to keep her hands clean.

She devises and plots the pranks and then casually suggests to someone else that it would be real funny to do XYZ to so-and-so, and then she gives them the blueprints and balaclavas and they go ahead and execute the devil's work, while she sits back and watches with glee.

She is very good at it.

And today I was fortunate enough to discover her Achilles heel… her fistful of Kryptonite … the wooden stake to her vampire heart… the battery-acid-inhaler to her Pennywise the Dancing Clown-face: she hates snakes.

She can't even stand to look at a picture of a snake. In fact, even worms make her nervous, because they remind her of snakes.

You cannot begin to imagine the kilometreage (or “mileage” for you non-metrics) I am already getting out of this.
She is too scared to open her emails, in case they contain yet another snake photo.

I'm the Jake The Snake to her Andre the Giant...

Sorry.
Superstars of Wrestling flash back.

I used to love that show.

Anyway. I'm going to Australia, the reptile capital of the world, next month to catch some snakes and then smuggle them back into the country.

I just hope they don't escape on the flight home. That might not be so good.

It was very much a Mischievous Monkey Friday today.

My boss' boss was away.

He plays volleyball. He keeps a volleyball on his desk.

I got some red paint and turned his volleyball into Wilson from that Tom Hanks movie, Castaway.

WILSON!!!!

I'm going to blame it on the Prank Queen.

Hey, my hands are clean!

Although, it did take a while to get the red paint off of my hand.

And I did spill some on my shoes. But I'll just tell people that's Samurai blood.

I'm currently dressed as a ninja. And I have my ninja boots on. And I needed to find something up in the medicine cupboard. So I leapt up onto the kitchen bench with one powerful secret ninja jump, which impressed D-Missus.

I then stood up on the bench and proceeded to accidentally hit my head on a low beam, which was not so impressive, but fortunately she didn't see that bit, because then she would have laughed at me and you're not supposed to laugh at ninjas, because ninjas aren't meant to be clumsy.

But I'll let you in on a little ninja secret: (Sometimes we are.)

Shhhh.