That is right boys and girls after tomorrow this godforsaken year is 1/3 of the way complete! Wow! Now if this were a race, or if I were a kid in school this would be good news. The problem here is that there is no finish line, summer break that is getting closer, or great company paid holiday party that I can look forward to at the end. Here it just means that 4 more months of my life have wasted away here at this rubber dog shit factory. Oh happy, happy, joy, joy!
I hate being such the bitter bitch, but there is only so much of this special ed convention that I can take. I mean I hear myself and I want to ask, "Do you want some cheese to go with all of your whine you bitch?" Really there is no warden here that is going to let me out for time served? Haven't I suffered enough to this point? Hell I lost everything that I had, including my pride, do I have to lose my sanity along with it? Trying to save my sanity is why the 4 of you, who actually follow my mad ramblings in the first place, even have anything to read because I needed a place to vent before I popped like the button on a fat girls pants. "No I really am a size 6! These must be labeled wrong." I am wound up tighter than a frogs asshole! (You see... a frogs asshole needs to be tight or water would get in. Bet you never thought of that!)
I mean I have come to some realities here that I treated as bullshit crutches and excuses by people for many years. (Let's no go overboard here I am not going to remove the labels that these Playskool drop outs have earned!) But when I started here I was a trim 170 and in the best shape I have been in a long time. At least pound-for-pound. More cardio work and less weights than when I was younger. Kept an eye on what I ate since my 14 hour days took away from my gym time, and after all I did not want to let all of that hard work go to waste. THEN the holidays came. After Halloween I decided that the girls did not NEED all of that candy sitting in the house as we kept finding candy wrappers all over the house. Now I am not talking about a few pieces of candy here... they had two 2 gallon Ziploc's full to the top! Before my little blog here I had nowhere to de-stress, so..... open mouth, insert crap! (I know.... must be where all of this crap is coming from!) Let's just say 90% of that candy did not make it to the New Year! The other 10% was the shitty banana taffy. YUCK!
Today I stand before you a blob of a man once again at 190 something. I felt I was watching the Biggest Loser and turning to food when life seems out of whack right here in my own little cubical of discomfort. The fact that I love to cook, and it was like my therapy when I was doing meaningful work has no relation to today. I am just eating more things that are bad for me then I have since high school and I had the metabolism that could handle it. It is not that I am a fast-food whore because that shit is still something I can only handle once in a blue moon, but I just find myself putting things in the hole in my face because it is empty! I know, I know... "What about the old fashioned way of relieving stress?!?!" Beating kids is frowned upon these days. Oh... you mean the other way? I ask you... would you want to let a cranky, fat, under achieving, gray, feeling sorry for himself, balding bastard with the confidence and conviction of the French military (Stop!!! Or I'll yell stop again...) mount you? (If you answered yes, please forward your name and number to Toner Boy P.O. Box..... Just kidding Hunny!) Me neither. As for my fall back stress buster (No not that... that is the fall back to the fall back... what? It is self inflicted.) cooking, it is just not the same when your ingredients go from crab, fillet, scallops and saffron to cheese whiz, Mickey Nuggets, canned corn and iodine salt. (Would rather avoid the last fall back, and at worst case have better things in the pantry to keep me entertained. Hey... beggars can't be choosers!) Can I make you a Fritos crusted hot dog with honey bacon creamed corn?
And now.... a joke. Do you know the difference between meat and fish? If you beat your fish... it dies. Thank you.... I will be here until I can get a real job! (Little cooks humor. OK, very little.)
OK. Some quick office tidbits and I am done for the week. (Unless someone just blindsides me with stupidity. Very possible. Not to mention I am bored to death around this place.) Been working with The Looker today because his PC is on the fritz and had a flurry of, "You know what I am sayin?"'s thrown at me to the point I almost responded with, "Shhhhhiiiiiitttttt.... playa. You kiddin?" I am looking at him standing there as he's dressed like a fucked up fruit salad in his cranberry shirt, grape pants, and cherry red & black hallucinogenic tie! Bro... what the fuck? Turned around a minute ago to find Wigglesworth standing there. Gotta get a bell for that assholes neck!
Mr. Obvious has been out until today and it took him all of 4 seconds to get right back in the grove of things. "I'm back." No shit? You are not Mo in ahhh... even more drag? Dumb ass. Speaking of Mo many of you who have been following, or followed, or were bored enough to read the post on Facebook I had regarding me walking down the hall with the giant box full of toner cartridges and she, ahhh "it" waited for me to move aside so she could walk through. Ha, ha.... I got my revenge this time! Fucking little bitch yesterday walked right down the hall and waited for me to move once again. I was not carrying anything this time around, but the point was she walked straight down the center of the hall and assumed that I was going to be the one to step aside for her. So I told myself the next time this happens I am just going to split the difference and if she does not move I will walk right into her. This morning was my chance! I walked to the break room to refill my water bottle and her she comes out the door holding her water bottle. Still a good 12 feet in front of her I give it a half shuffle to the side and looked over the cubes to say "morning" to Funk and Wagnalls (I only say morning because there is nothing good about it here.) as I pass. The bitch ran right into my shoulder! She drops her water bottle and looks at me and says, "You should watch where you are going." I said, "That is funny I moved and gave you room to get through. Did not realize I was also required to step to the side and put my head down like you are The Queen." Thought I was about to square off with the school bully right then and there in the hall. Then I realized that I was no longer 12. I am sure I will hear about that one. Oh well. Bitch.
Guess this incident just put me a pissy mood this morning. Ye olde Ice Shaker was at it again today, and this time I had enough. He is sitting in his cube talking poker with Quasimodo (There is an ugly sum-bitch that I would hate to try and read his face at a poker table!) just shaking his bottle like a fucking maraca. Knowing that I am going to hear about buzzing the tower with Mo already I decided to send an email to Penis and ask him to take care of it. Knowing that humor only hurts those you are laughing at I figured I would at least make the email put a smile on the old wrinkled ones face. And I wrote, "May I politely ask.... Can you, or someone, pass along to Ice Shaker, or his manager, to PLEASE stop shaking his ice in his bottle every day before I go nuts and say something more that I will regret? Right now… I am unable to put the words together in a manner that would be rational. Of course as soon as I start this email to you he stops. Oh darn he must be out of liquid in his bottle. Breaks the heart. But next time you have your door open and hear it, or step out to find me crawling over the top of my cube after him, if someone could please let him know in a politically correct way how annoying that is to those around him? It would be VERY much appreciated. Thank you." I walk by his office and he is laughing as he calls me in to thank me for passing this on to him and the laugh. He said he will figure out a way to take care of this that will not put the office on high alert. It is sort of nice being a pee on and not having to worry about being politically correct all of the time. Lord knows I am an HR's worst nightmare in management already.... now I am amongst the mob. Good heavens. All I can say is, "And down goes Ice Shaker!" Game, set, match.
Let see... odds and ends.... Had a question on a spreadsheet formula that I went to Anyway with. I explained it in detail knowing that pretty much what he does 24/7 for a living here. He looks at my example..... looks at some other cells formulas that I have.... looks back... looks right at me and says, "Yeah. Hmmmmm.... Anyway." Go figure
Catching Flies looks like he got into a wrestling match with a squid and lost. The guy has pretty much solid gray hair (Up yours Ed mine is still sort of black. At least what is still there.) and he looks like someone put toner ink (AHAHHA toner ink!) on his head. If this was a Just for Men job he should NOT be a spokesperson because as Shaq would say, "That's horrible. No, you know what that is? That's horrawful. That's horrible and awful mixed together."
OK... I need to go a little easier on Mr. Obvious because he just brought me a pack of Sour Mamba's. Ass kisser.
Next... one of the unnamed ladies in the filing department walked by here earlier and she was wearing a set of big ass yellow Sony radio ear phones like the ones that Ben Stiller wore when he was running on the beach in Starsky and Hutch. I mean really, she looks like the Great Gazoo from the Flintstones with big ass antennas sticking out of her head! Wonder if I can sell her some of my hanger wire antenna animals as an accessory? Are you telling me that people still actually listen to AM/FM radio? Hell she is from one of those South Pacific islands where your name is 14 consonants and 1 vowel, so how many radio stations can there be that she would be able to understand the language in the first place? She really looks like one of those islanders from Pirates of the Caribbean 2. All she would need is a bone in her nose and a plate in her lip!
Dummy called me a day early this morning because once again she could not log in... Toner Boy to her rescue right? She sends me over, through the inner office mail carrier mind you, a paper cup full of doughnut holes that say, "Thank you!" on the side. How sweet that old dimwit is. Actually now that I think about it.... doughnut holes from her, candy from Mr. Obvious, I am already plumping up on my own.... I've got it... they are going to kill and stuff me for Thanksgiving! The jig is up! I have figured you rat bastards out because none of you are this nice! (Sleeper Cell if I am still here at that point in time please treat me like a target on Buzz Lightyear!) Hey if they butcher me up with Violet from Willy Wonka they could have a feast!
Oh yeah.... speaking of the Wonkanator we have a new employee upstairs who is a sight to be seen. This lady has more gray hair than black, wears a very full bob haircut around her face accentuating her plumpness, has bright blue eyes, is about 50 pounds overweight and has not shopped since she put on the LB's (FUCKING INFLUENZA IS BURPING LIKE A SEAL OVER THERE! I am going to throw that bitch a mackerel.) so she is almost a grenade in disguise, and wears, I shit you not, burnt umber base make up! She looks like a fricken Oompa Loompa! I think I am going to go ask her for a chocolate bar. I'm out.
Toner Boy
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