Wednesday, June 04, 2003

So fukn we tried to trick old fart into eating a cockroach but it didn’t work out for us. Here’s the scoops, old fart can NOT get it through his thick fukn skull the theory of sealing food items after he extracts his portion. Ie, ya know, bag of chips with the zip lock, jar of pretzels, anykine shmany kine, any fukn rational human being would realize that food left in an outdoor warehouse type environment needs to be sealed so fukn bugs and shit don’t get into it. well despite repeated reminders and hints and suggestions to this dumb fuk he continued to just “set” the top on the jar of cashews rather than going through the what I know must have been strenuous and difficult task of twisting it closed. So anyway, upon discovery of this last week, fukn the contingent decided to play a little trick on mister oldster and trapped a big ass cockroach in the jar with the paltry remaining nuts, with this monty python slash young ones vision of old man walking into his office with a roach leg hanging out of his mouth. Sad to say, old fart discovered it and mentioned it to me (the roach is dead now) and I pleaded ignorance, so old fart put it back in place thinking now he’s gonna play a joke on the contingent. Dumbass.

Plus he was all wondering that I didn’t notice his new glasses. Only after asking me “notice anything different?” did I guess his frikken spectacles. And then he has to proceed to tell me the whole story and complain about them slipping off his nose and how the refractory something something zzzzzzzzz. It’s like jesus, dude, I write about you on my blog, but I’m not keeping a running tally of your fuking wardrobe & accessories, get over yourself big fella. He did say something funny though by mentioning “well I never really draw a crowd anyway” as an explanation why no one at the old bored fukhead club didn’t notice earlier in the day. Why this is funny is something I am apparently not qualified to describe, I just report the news, I don’t analyze it. there are many many more qualified and interesting people both on the good ol net and in traditional journalism if you want intelligent thought.

I should really lay off the guy. I mean he’s just an innocent old racist bastard that misses the good ol days of brontosaurus burgers and gets frustrated by “poynesian paralysis.” Deepest apologies, in that I know I’m providing not even close to the level of excellence to which you have grown accustomed to via my brilliance. You don’t pay your damn internet fees just to read about me bitching now do you? oh you do? Ok I shall proceed.

So then Brandon said hibi hibi hibi, and all was well on the ranch. Even skeeter skinned a chiken for good measure. A good time was had by all.

Ok that wasn’t bitching. See I was using the element of surprise to provide you with an alternate view on your mental state. It’s called, living la vida loca, and it has nothing to do with ricky martin and everything to do with, um, goat cheese.

Well today was day one of a grand experiment I am trying out called “beat the boss into the office.” I must say that it went absolutely splendidly for the young endeavor that it is. I arrived at about 7:20, a full 40 minutes early, and when masta walked in, he was like “no… way” in that voice like chandler’s annoying girlfriend, na mean? And he was like, giving me attaboys and saying how he really likes seeing me here early and on the phone, etcetera. Aahh, brownie points. Yes they don’t mean much but what with me going on an almost three-week vaycay coming up here next month, I gotta get in good with the management and secure my status as a skunkworks rock god. “early bird gets the worm, late bird gets the girlie with the 2 dollar perm…”

Don’t ask me who the hell said that, it sure as hell wasn’t me. i'm thinking tribe, but there's so many verses making their way through those neural capillaries, shit gets scrambled. which makes for a hell of a fondue.