Office Pace

Hey folks, sorry about the lack of posts lately, but the new job has been running me ragged. They're also pretty adamant about no internet usage for personal stuff, so I've been accessing the internet only sparingly. However, I know all two of my readers can't get enough of me so here we go.

Here are a couple of incidents that occurred shortly after I started two Fridays ago that I found particularly amusing/horrifying:

1. Within three days of starting the new job, I lost both the temporary badge assigned to me AND the permanent one with my picture on it. I only just today received the replacement. See that? That's me impressing my new boss with my attention to detail.

2. I overhead the following phone conversation in the next cubicle

Co-worker:
"What? The latex one?

pause

Co-worker:
"That one's kind of flimsy, it'll slide all over the place"

pause

Co-worker:
"You'll never get it to fit"

3. The older woman training me farted. When she was right next to me. She apologized...and then proceeded to fan the fumes away with a manila folder. Never mind that I was sitting at my desk at the time and was at nose level with the folder. God, it smelled like a raccoon crawled up her ass, died, came back from the dead, ate a shit ton of taco bell and then crawled back up her ass and died again. Don't even get me started on her tea breath.

4. Whenever someone walks within 1 foot of my cubicle wall, my entire monitor wobbles from side to side and makes me want to vomit.

By the way, I went to play airsoft with my friend Eric this weekend. I had a great time with the A47 rifle and 1911 pistol, but by the end of our session (we started at 1 and ended at 3, which was about 4 or 5 games), my legs felt like lead weights. What does this mean for me now? Well, I've been walking around my office like Forrest Gump in leg braces, and making "worrrrg" sounds whenever I get up from my desk chair. The plus side, it was a great work out and I actually got a guy to surrender during my first game.

I'll post something more substantial later in the week, so please do check in. Please? Pretty please?? Only if I what? Oh God, don't make do that again? You promise you won't take pictures this time?

They never knew what hit 'em

Hey folks, just so you know, tomorrow (and every 22nd day of the month thereafter) is Disco Day at Burt Reynolds' Mustache. Stop by, check it out, tell everyone how much you love it...'cuz you know you do.

Could I BE more disinterested?

So, once I confirmed the job offer from the employer that shall remain nameless, I turned in my two weeks notice to my scatter-brained boss. This was about a week and a half ago, and I've basically been running out the clock ever since. It's very liberating, I must tell you. I guess this would be the "Acceptance" stage if I had a terminal illness. No visible tattoo's according to the dress code? Guess who's been wearing short sleeved shirts? No jeans? That's too bad, becauase I've been lookin' damn sexy in mine for the last week and a half. I'm seriously considering coming in to work drunk at this point.

I called in to my HR department and confirmed that I have about two and a half days of time off that I have accrued since I started. Today is Monday. I start the new job on Friday...

Hmmmmmmmm.

I'm seriously considering just using those up rather than having to drive to Torrance for the next three days and help with some file archiving. I mean, come on! Fucking Torrance?! That's just taking advantage, man. Do I look drunk? No. Am I wearing a prom dress? No.

So stop trying to fuck me.

Has anyone in the blogosphere that checks in to my little corner been in this situation? Speak up!

Shih Tzu's gone wild

Whatchoo talkin' bout, foo?!


IM IN YER HAWZ, HAFFIN TEH ZEX


Get my good side, bitch.

Kitchen counter confessions

Another conversation with the Missus:

The scene: I've just spilled some ketchup on the floor after trying to pour it onto the hot link burrito* I just made.

-----------------------------------------------------


Mrs. Disco: Why don't you just open it up (the burrito) and pour it in?

Me: It's already closed, it's too late to turn back.

Mrs. Disco: It's a shame they lock those things.

Me: Don't focus on the past.


*Patent Pending

Rome is burning

I’ve been half listening to all the hoopla concerning Britney Spears’ latest appearance in the media. I say “half” because I’ve quickly grown fed up with the ridiculous way in which we are bombarded with celebrity “news”. It’s truly disgusting to see how the masses circle over the news like vultures waiting for a starving man to die. I’ll be the first to admit that when I first started this blog that I too visited some of the usual suspects like TMZ, and some other blogs that cater to gossip and such. At first there was the tingle of being one of the first to read a new snippet of info, or see a video, or read someone’s snarky commentary on the celebutard of the week’s behavior. Now, it makes me sick to see a celebrity hounded like a murder suspect.

I have come to a realization.

We have turned into Ancient Rome…at least partially.

We have become spectators at the Coliseum, packing the benches and baying for blood as the gladiators (celebrities) are paraded out one after another in order to distract us, the public, from our own lives. They hack and slash, fighting for their very lives as we secretly pray for their death. The reward for survival? Maybe a bigger opening weekend for their new movie, higher sales for their new album, or an interview with Larry King, and then they are thrown back into the ring the very next week. We shower the winner with praise until they make the fatal mistake of displeasing us (by being human) in the slightest. All the while Caesar (Harvy Levin) presides over it all, deciding who is newsworthy (lives), and who is not (dies). When the public becomes bored, he will send out his mindless entertainer (Perez Hilton) to renew their bloodlust.

We have become bloated on the carcasses of our famous, yet we still reach out our hands when a new dish is brought out to us. We’ve exchanged decency and the right to privacy for soundbites and voyeurism.

Does anyone remember what happened to Rome?

Friday morning round up

Happy Friday, folks. In the interest of keeping you from getting any real work done, here's some entertainment news I've gathered.

1) Brandon Routh will not be returning as Superman in the sequel. Latinoreview (shut up, TK) revealed they got wind of this some time ago but didn't let it slip until Variety started flapping the howling yappers about it. I'm not all that surprised, seeing as how I was really only impressed with Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. And the whole Superman having a kid with Lois? I'm not sure about that one...but can you imagine the rug burns Lois had? Yikes.

B) Unless you've been living under a rock, hacked off both of your ears and shoved carrots in your eye sockets, you're aware that Britney Spears has finally and completely lost her shit.

Zebra) You know, when I was a kid and I acted up, my grandma put a boot in my ass. What do kids get these days? Free psychiatric care and lots of drugs. Lucky bastards.

Purple) Wonder whatever happened to Colin Farrell? Apparently the reviews for Alexander shamed him into making some good films. Here are some clips from In Bruges, in which he co-stars with Brendan Gleeson and Ralph (Ray, Raif, WTF?) Fienes. Ol' Drunky McDrinksalot plays one of two hit men sent to hideout in the town of Bruges, and get into all sorts of hi-larious mixups and run-ins with the locals. The dialogue and editing for the previews reminds me of Snatch (hee hee) and Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. I've been jonesing for a well written, dark UK comedy for a while and this just may fit the bill.

Foot in mouth? Check.

A conversation I had with Mrs. Disco while in bed last night:

Me: Whatcha reading?

Mrs.Disco: Sur La Table.

Me: Anything good?

Mrs. Disco: Meh. Not much.

Me: (looking at page) Is that Valentine's Day stuff?!

Mrs. Disco: Yes...

Me: Are they already advertising Valentine's crap? You gotta be kidding me! We're barely into January!

Mrs. Disco: Hrrmmmmm...Maybe I'll actually get something other than a stuffed heart from Big Lots this year.

Me: ...They were in high demand, you're lucky you even got one.

Mrs. Disco: You touch me and you're getting an elbow in the chest.


And, scene.