No, you throw it to first base.
Who? Naturally! Having a conversation with my IT department is like being in an Abbott and Costello routine. Except not funny. Sigh. ![]() 'When a President does it, that means it is not illegal.' DISCLAIMER: She actually never said that. LOL @ jamesf's squintynixon
Again.
![]() Thanks to everyone for three great years and counting! (My special thanks to the Old Farts for all the general lamenting and Matlock marathons. My orthopedic shoes salute you.) Please help yourself to a celebratory pudding cup. ![]() WE'RE GONNA NEED A BIGGER CUPCAKE!
I fucking HATE them.
In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University . On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephant’s foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day. Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man. Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly. Probably wasn't the same elephant. This is for everyone who sends me those heart-warming bullshit stories.
Terrible night last night. Horrible day so far. Give me a reason to smile. A joke, a picture, anything. I need a serious pick-me-up.
:( UPDATE: Thanks for your support, everyone. It really helped me, and I can't tell you how much better I feel. *sniff* BECAUSE OF YOU! *sobs* You like me! You really, really like me!
This blog used to exist but now doesn't. It was full of life lessons and hilarity. I laughed and cried. It became a part of me. I feel that, having learned so much, it would benefit us all if we could share some of the things that music taught us.
For instance, Vanilla Ice taught me to stop, collaborate and listen. ![]() Tina Turner taught me that, as a private dancer, American Express will do nicely, thank you. ![]() And Corey Hart taught me not be afraid of the guy in shades, oh no! ![]() What have y'all learned?
I spent most of yesterday with my head in my hands wondering how certain people in my workplace manage to get by in the world without getting punched in the face.
Coworker X often gets an enormous glass from the kitchen and fills it to the very brim with water from the water cooler, which he proceeds to pour very carefully down the sink. He then puts the glass in the sink and leaves. When he's not doing that, he's waiting for the kettle to boil water so he can pour that down the drain also, regardless of how many mugs surround the kettle just waiting for that hot water. WHAT DID WATER EVER DO TO YOU??? Also, Coworker Y is incapable of closing a door she opens in the kitchen. You know she's been there when the cupboards, microwave, dishwasher and garbage compartment doors are all wide open. I once crashed right into the utensil drawer she left open and she told me that I needed to be more careful and watch where I'm going. WHAT DID DOORS AND DRAWERS EVER DO TO YOU??? And to top it all off, I went into the supply room to get more paper and found fucking PUBES all over the paper packages. That's just nasty. ![]() Also, whenever I type the word 'annoying' I think of Annyong. ![]() Also, hi! |
Pudding Fund
![]() ![]() ![]() Thanks, chelly! ![]() Thanks, Tora! ![]() Thanks, littlem! ![]() ![]() Thanks, taz-pie! ![]() ![]() Thanks, Corey! ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Old Farts Club Members (now on Facebook!) corey8/corey9 squintygirl (that's me!) adam antium pinkpiggyme travis76 grayehound kidaro P Shmoov Rock Deputy little g whisper in water Manos jmo9000 mikemills juliagoolia Luke... realslimnatey DarthG d3d steven218 steve_swartz Darth Veg WallsReallyWork spencekarl swedz littlem MadTheologian UberRyan mezo the czar hogboy vulcanhalfbreed F.A.B. typh chelly illustraTom angelito phones velusariot redsugar fatboyradio shirtflirt OCandCO lemonalle alacyt/avalanche_lily melhel86 nasti.girl. amy122166 - the greatest Evil Twin and prop girl anyone could ever ask for! deboraborialis taz-pie bkaiser jackanapes kayceislost pickledbib chemi hydro NatySpaghetti fc gravy Kitchen Patrol Fourty Four GldKttn18 funkie fresh Noobits kooky love iPear Butterfly Wings Mezbee hoesclothesandbankrolls squeegebeckenheim i carnt spell catdogpigduck herky xxreddawnxx MysteriousPete Mr Kawfy Aristarchus theurbanraptor MikeHarding morganian RussB Shix ladykat kirstenlovesdinner Tazocat bygrinstow Bonnie76 T-Lou ![]() ![]() My Long and Boring Back Story When I was a young lass, I had the most incredible eyesight. I could read small typed pages from across the room and identify licence plates from a staggering distance. It was really cool. For a while there, I was invincible. INVINCIBLE! Life, however, always has a funny way of crash-landing you back to reality, and over the course of a few years, my eyesight went from fantastic to average to poor to complete crap. I would sit in class and squint at the blackboard all day and have absolutely no idea what I was looking at. In Grade Five, I became an expert note-taker by just writing down EVERYTHING my teacher said (which, incidentally, became a very handy skill none of my board-copying schoolmates had mastered when we all needed it in university) and spent my nights begging my mother for glasses. She didn't believe me. Also, she thought they would make me look nerdy. I walked around half-blind for almost three years until the fateful day my mom caved in and took me to the eye doctor, hurray! But what was it that finally convinced dear Mum? Was it the fact that I kept tripping on things I couldn't see in the street? No. Was it the fact that three of my teachers and the school nurse told my mother that I needed glasses, IMMEDIATELY? No. Was it the fact that I had to hold a book a centimetre from my face to actually make out the words? No. What convinced my mom to take me to the eye doctor was my squinting and how much she hated it. 'You look like you're smelling boiled cabbage all the time, stop making that face!' 'You're going to have terrible wrinkles when you get older, stop making that face!' 'It's going to freeze like that forever, you know, stop making that face!' And 'squintygirl' was born. It was, however, the same day I finally got glasses (the ugliest glasses you could ever possibly imagine, natch), so I never had to squint again. Nevertheless, I felt such an affinity for and alliance with squintygirl, that she stayed with me through successively uglier pairs of glasses as the years passed. Today, I have less ugly glasses and still don't squint, but I continue to salute that industrious little girl. Incidentally, my face never did freeze that way, but I am worried about wrinkles, now that I'm a member of Threadless' Old Farts Club. I guess Mom was right about something. (She was also right about the nerdy thing, too.) The Fighting Cacti, by Gina
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