An Honest Out of Office Auto-Reply

I leave for Montana for a week on Friday and am considering using the following as my Out of Office Auto-Reply message. What's the over under on time till firing?

Hello. If you are reading this, that means that you are in the office and I am not. I’m sorry. While you’re sitting at your desk, listening to the mind-numbing din of fluorescent light bulbs, willing the clock hands to move already, I’m probably out basking in the sun, or climbing a mountain, or sitting on the bank of a river watching it fall over itself and listening to it laugh. Like Siddartha, but with beer.

During my week off, I will be attending a wedding, and then traversing the Montana countryside. During your week, you will do things that probably won’t matter in the slightest in a few months. In all likelihood, I will be forced to wrestle a bear and scramble to safety (possibly using its hide for a sleeping bag later on), while you will passive-aggressively deter your cubicle neighbor from stealing your stapler for the third time this week by keeping it in your desk drawer from now on.

In the event that the bear episode doesn’t go as I envision, and I do not return from Montana, you will probably not receive a response to this email. In the event that I’m only slightly maimed, you will receive a response to this email, it will just take longer as I may have to learn to type with my feet or nose.

If you need immediate assistance, you may contact my boss, though she is very busy so don’t be self-absorbed. Picture your amount of work, multiply times one hundred million, then think about if you’d want to respond to your email. Didn’t think so.

Peace!

Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay...

Lindsay Lohan has officially gone from jailbait to jail bound. Since I heard the news, all I've done is wonder, why am I the only person in the world who has yet to put Ms. Mean Girls in handcuffs?

Many of us have spent hours pondering the actress' mighty fall from glory. She captured our hearts with her freckled, impish performance in The Parent Trap, and tickled us pink with her endearing, but befuddled (and kinda bitchy) perpetrations in cinematic masterpieces such as Mean Girls, Freaky Friday, and, uh, those other ones.

Lindsay was the princess of Tinseltown and the Queen of America's collective heart. So what happened? How did we get here, Linds? Help us help you!

Drug possession, DUIs, and lesbianism--oh, my! The hard-partying starlet has somehow pulled off making court-ordered ankle bracelets and passing out on the sidewalk the new sexy. While we wait for her to rise from a pile of her own Marlboro Light cigarette ashes like an over sized handbag-clutching Phoenix, she continues to break our hearts, one infraction at a time. It's like watching a glacier, once so imposing and majestic, slowly fracture and fall bit by bit into the sea.

Lindsay is Hollywood's hottest Humpty Dumpty. Except skinny. And drunk. Here's hoping that a few months in the clink will put Humpty back together again. I'll be sure to do my part and send her brownies and a copy of A Long Walk to Freedom...