--At work on Tuesday we were summoned to a meeting, and told
there was a 90% probability we’d have to work on Thursday night.Our regular schedule is four ten-hour days, Sunday through
Wednesday, so they were simultaneously lengthening our work week and
shortening our weekend.
Yeah, that certainly eats it from the ass in, but what are you going
to do?God knows I reach
my bitching quota every month, but stuff like that’s not even
worth thinking about.Ya
know?
Civil War veterans driving 45 mph in the left lane of the
interstate?Check.Some big braless mama in a gargantuan pastel t-shirt,
screaming across a grocery store at her fat-ass buzzcut children?Check.Working
for a company that’s doing so well they sometimes ask you to work
extra hours?Um, no.
But you should’ve heard the complaining…I mean, it was just wall to wall.And last night, when they called another meeting and told us
we wouldn’t
have to work, they whined about that as well.How are we supposed to make plans?Why are they jerking our chains like this?I already spent the overtime money on Coors and meatballs.Blah, blah, blah.
Man, some people just aren’t properly schooled in the fine art of
bitching.Sweet sainted
mother of Robert Wayne “No Nose”
Gardner! Somebody needs to hold a seminar, and quick.
--While my parents were
visiting for Christmas, we somehow ended up watching a horrible
sitcom that featured Puddy from Seinfeld,
and David Spade.I have
no idea what it’s called, and don’t care enough to find out.
Anyway, the David Spade character was dating a woman who spoke
almost exclusively in sexual innuendo.She didn’t realize it, she just talked that way by
accident, I guess.She
told the mailman, “Just go ahead and slide it into my slot.”And in a rainstorm, she told Spade, “Oh God, this is making
me wet.”
You get the picture…
And I was sitting there watching this thing with my parents.I could feel everything above my shoulders turning blood red,
and just wanted it to stop.But
it wouldn’t, it wouldn’t
stop.It was “shaft”
this, and “bush” that, and “boner” that over there, for what
seemed like five or six hours.Shit, I just had another full-body shiver!
Have you ever been watching a show on TV with someone, and it
was so embarrassing you found yourself praying for a power outage?Tell us about it in the comments, won’t you?
-- I spoke with the
T-Shirt Lady this afternoon, and she says she’ll have our caps
finished tomorrow, or Saturday morning.Six dozen are already completed, and the rest are coming
along nicely, she reports.
So, if all goes as planned, I’ll be able to get ‘em in the mail
to you guys next week.If
you haven’t ordered yet, not a problem.I’ll have extras, plenty of extras, so order away!Here’s yer link.
And, as always, I appreciate the support.
--Speaking of cool shit
in the mail…Today I
received 800+ episodes of the old Jack Benny radio program.They’re in mp3 format, on CDs, and cost me ten bucks total
– including shipping and handling.I ordered them from a guy at eBay, and he even threw in a
couple of DVDs of Jack appearing on various TV shows.As somebody on Monty Python once said, my
nipples are exploding with delight.
--Have you ever had a
crush on a celebrity?Toney
apparently had some sort of disturbing Duran Duran fixation when she
was a youngling (then married me!?),
but I can honestly say I’ve never experienced such a thing.
Oh, I’ve fixated on my share of females, of course, but they’ve
all been real people.I’ve
got the restraining orders to prove it…I remember kids getting themselves all worked-up into a
one-handed frenzy over Wonder Woman, and that sort of thing, and I
could never understand it.
I wanted to grab them by the shoulders, give ‘em a good shake, and
say, “You’re thirteen and all zitted-up!You’re wearing a Fonzie t-shirt, smell kinda funny, and
live in Dunbar,
WV!! It’s
never going to happen between you and Kate Jackson!”
Of course, my chances with real local girls were roughly the same as
theirs with Hollywood actresses.But I never, not even once, developed a crush on a celebrity.
What about you?Tell us
about it, won’t you?This
is information we need to have.
--And since I won’t
be updating tomorrow (did I mention that?), I’ve got a bonus
question for you guys today…
Who do you think are the greatest Balls in a Vise singers?
I’d have to go with Frankie Valli.But there’s also the Bee Gees, the dude in Chicago, and possibly the lead singer
of Supertramp.That last
one might be more of a buttplug situation, I don’t know…
But who would you nominate?Who
do you think are the greatest singers of all time, who sound like
their balls are wedged into an ever-tightening vise?Who are the kings of the BiaV genre?
--And before I call it
a day here, I have a couple of links to pass along.
At this site they give suggestions on how to throw a kick-ass LOST
party.I especially like
the idea of serving up some of those Sawyer fish biscuits.That’s excellent.
And here’s a great site where you can view collections of vintage
(and fuh-reaky) candid photographs.This is my favorite, by far.What in the high-top hell kind of party was that?
