Monthly Archives: April 2007

Good riddance ya stinkin’ atheist!

The new temp guy started today. Before he showed up, I tried to clear his desk of past temp funk. I was unnerved to find that the previous occupant had tumped the computer on its side, then turned the back to the front so that she could plug in her headphones.

When they let the last temp go on Friday, we had a brief meeting about it. Brief, as in:

Boss: We’re letting her go today. I’m leaving at 5, so you can let her know at 5:30 and walk her out to her car.

Me: …

In other news, here’s a picture of Brian’s meat and two veg:

Brian's meat and two veg


Think of the mathematical possibilities

Little Wage was startled to discover yet another Minimum Wage in hypersleep.

There goes our salvage

Check it out! Twins! Though they aren’t identical twins. They’re the other kind of twins. Siamese twins.

We like to use the Buddy System

There isn’t a shower cold enough for this man

Last night I dreamed I was at a party. There were lots of people milling about in a large room and they were laughing, drinking, etc. It was just a standard party at first.

Then a group of ladies ran past me, giggling and shoving each other on their way up the stairs. I had to use the facilities, so I made my way down a long hall. When I opened the bathroom door, I saw Harold (from Harold and Maude) and Jack (from Titanic) standing naked in the bathtub behind the clear glass shower doors. They were locked in a kiss, but stopped as I walked in to the room.

I said to them, “Oh, hey, your girlfriends just went upstairs to pour melted chocolate over each other and you’re supposed to go watch them lick it off each other.”

Harold and Jack looked at me, then they looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to what they were doing.

I stayed to watch them, but the shower doors steamed up and I realized I couldn’t see anything without my contacts.

This is what happens when you eat a pound and a half of homemade Rice Krispie treats and watch The Fugitive before you go to bed.

The Return of Minimum Wage

While I was sitting on the couch watching Brian put away the groceries, there came a knock at the door. A surprise visitor yelled, “Honey, I’m home!”

Honey! I'm home!

There was excitement all around!

Little Wage came over to see the newcomer. He poked him a couple of times and said, “Hey… this guy’s encased in a protective wrapper. He’s in hypersleep!” Then he pointed at me and said, “You! You made him say that! He didn’t say anything at all!”

He's in hypersleep!

I’m listening to Shonen Knife

The new temp at work is getting shitcanned this afternoon. Of course, she doesn’t know this yet. This is her second week and it’s not working out. Mostly because she spends the majority of the day on her Push-to-Talk cell phone, walkie-talkie-ing her husband. And not actually WORKING.

I can’t say I’m too upset about the idea that she won’t be there Monday. She’s nice enough, but has a single awful Christian pop music CD that she plays over and over on her computer. Her computer has no speakers, save for the tiny tin one in the case, so she plays the CD at full blast. And she sits next to me. Yesterday, she brought in headphones in an effort to hear the music more clearly, but it only served to save her from answering the phone or talking to anyone in the office.

Here’s a tip for all the people temping out there – if you ask when you’ll be getting the training they promised in the first week, and they fog and say they’ll have to check on that, take a hint and pack your personal belongings. Leave with dignity.

Eggs are complicated. They should cost like… a hundred dollars each

I haven’t been on the line the last couple of days, because after all the hours spent in grueling training at work this week, I only want to collapse in a heap when I get home. I know, I know. It’s totally unfair to all five of you who depend on me to make your day that much ha-ha-ier. I apologize. And I apologise to those that it spell it that way.

In an attempt NEVER to have to leave the house, I ordered my week’s worth of groceries online and had them delivered Sunday. Instead of that whole ordeal of driving across the street to the store, I had the store come to me.

This week, I didn’t have to sit on the couch and surf the internet while I waited for Brian to bring all the bags from the car before he put all the stuff away. The delivery man offloaded the bags right at the front door, so Brian just had to pick them up and carry them over to the kitchen before he put everything away. While I sat on the couch and played Puzzle Pirates.

My only complaint is that they didn’t send me the individual snack cheeses with the jokes printed on the wrappers. I’ll have to put that in the “Notes to My Personal Shopper” section next time.

Mother, keep digging the graves. Better do two. This isn’t going too well…

Special E-Mail From My Mother Edition!

Some bad news to tell you.

Unless it’s at home, I’ve lost one of my rings. I wore it on my little finger, left hand. It’s one Aunt Mary gave me. You know I had to have all my rings cut off when I broke my elbow. Well, I had them enlarged, but they were a little too large and I just kept putting it off going back to the jeweler. So until I went back I’ve wrapped tape around them. Pretty nasty looking, I must say.

I was getting up to put hand lotion on about a half hour ago and missed it. It could have been gone yesterday, as I was too lazy to put hand lotion on before I went to sleep last night. And now it’s missing.

I’m hoping and praying to St. ANTHONY it is at home.

Right now, this means there’s one less ring you’ll have to deal with at my death.

Please let me find it. I really loved it.

Love ya,

Pagoda of the Damned

On my last day at work, they gave me a coffee mug full of three biscotti. I thought of Erin and decided I should use the disguised pumice to smooth my feet over the weekend. Or I could take it with me to the nail place and let a professional pedicure lady use it properly.

The last time I went to the nail place, the professional pedicure lady gave me such a great foot massage, I was tempted to stand up and shout, “Raise the red lantern!” But I didn’t, because I wasn’t there alone and I don’t like to embarrass other people with my insanity.

Not on purpose, anyway.