Today we had a staff meeting. It was hell.

There are currently three-hundred employees in the Corporate Accounts office, and I was only able to requisition a two-hundred person room. Now, as you can imagine, the centralized office is a host to the fattest of the fat where people sit at their desks nine, ten, sometimes twelves hours a day (if I have anything to say about it), mindlessly working and not getting any physical activity.

Well, after my forty-five minute presentation on Space Management the room was sweltering. You know how they say blubber is a natural insulator for creatures living in arctic climates? Well, it doesn't really keep the heat in on humans as much as it seems to radiate it like a fucking space heater.

Three-hundred overweight, sweaty, mouth-breathing mammoths packed in tighter than a can of sardines, stewing in their own corpulence for two hours. It was a sauna. A living, breathing, stinking, wheezing sauna.

Next time I think I'll try to get this done outdoors. Let the fatties sweat it out under the baking sun. I might even enforce a formal business dress code just to make it worse on them--a little sweating might do these people some good.

If only there was a way to harness all of that energy...like a fat person battery cell. I could strap little electrical belts around each of their bulbous midsections and leech away their energy and use it to power my house.

Used-to-be-Cute girl from Accounting was there. Front row. I hate overachievers. I think I might have to eat her.