The beloved Eat ‘n Park commercial, with the tree and the star. Now that I’ve seen it, I can finally get into the holiday spirit. It’s a lifetime tradition for me, you see — as soon as that commercial debuts for the season, it’s Christmas.
Go watch — I’ll be here with tissues when you come back.
Thanks to Tiff for sharing the link!
A few entries ago, I introduced you to the Popcorn Bandit at the Veggie Patch, who stole a tin of popcorn from the executive staff. This, my friends, became an international act of espionage, so much so that the original giver of the popcorn tin was last spotted bringing in a replacement. Jesus Christ.
Popcorn Bandit had taken a vacation day today, but because we had a potluck lunch, she drove into the office (all the way from Maryland) so she could pig out on the offerings. Ugh. I hate seeing her at potlucks — she clearly has an aversion to using, oh, UTENSILS to take the food out of the dishes. Ugh. She’s always the first person at the lunches, and she is always seen talking with her mouth full. So. Very. Gross.
She had brought in cookies as her contribution (Shan, RC, Angie and I bought pizzas — we refuse to eat any homemade crap). Well, just before the lunch ended, she covered up her cookies and took them. Our buddy Scott who was sitting with us saw this and called her out for stealing more food. She said that she baked those cookies, so he asked if we missed our opportunity to have them. She said yes but gave him one cookie and took the rest and ran out the door. Moron.
I actually won a door prize at the potluck, which was funny because I wasn’t going to go (seeing as though my appendix burst the day after the last potluck — bad, bad memories). I got a pack of those chocolate oranges that you smash on something and they break apart. Loudly, I declared, “Hey, I need a blunt object to smash these on. Oh, wait, there’s Town Crier!” Only thing was, I used her real name. 🙂
Town Crier also got a door prize. What they do is line all the winners up and have us draw numbers for whatever prize we’ll get. Shan said that, when Town Crier was called up, she said the look of pure disgust on my face was visible from her seat about 50 feet away. Heh. I don’t even try to hide it. I would’ve been more than happy to administer a door prize to Town Crier — like my foot up her ass.
I needed some humor today, although even this isn’t enough to make my workplace bearable. 😉 Enjoy!
1. Do you enjoy the cold weather and snow for the holidays?
About as much as I enjoy working for a living, especially for this bunch of assholes — NO!
2. What is your ideal holiday celebration? How, where, with whom would you celebrate to make things perfect?
I’ve spent every holiday with my family (which is down to Mom and my grandfather). I’d prefer for it to be in a tropical locale or, at the very least, I’d love it if they could do the drive to see me instead of me lugging the screaming pussies up north.
3. Do you do have any holiday traditions?
There is someone who is no longer in my life who crosses my mind every Christmas Eve, so sometime around midnight, I sit in front of my tree and feel sad and yet happy to have known that person at all.
When my grandmother was still with us (and I was still in Pittsburgh), we always went to Rhoda’s (now Kazansky’s) Deli in Squirrel Hill, where we got all the fixin’s for corned beef sandwiches, and we always picked up a pizza at Mineo’s across the street. That was a New Year’s Eve tradition, actually. And when my great-grandmother was still around, we always put shiny new quarters outside for the turn of another new year. Not sure what that was all about — I believe it was a good luck thing. I’m still waiting for that good luck to kick in. 🙂
I normally put up a tree, but with Kadi the hellcat on the loose (gaah, you should see my wrists today — I look like I am a cutter — and I forgot about it till I put on perfume — HOLY FUCKING SHIT DID THAT BURN!!!!), that’s a no-go. When I have my tree up, I sleep in the living room so I can see the lights when I wake up my usual million times a night.
That, of course, and drinking myself into oblivion, as often as possible. 😉
4. Do you do anything to help the needy?
If, by needy, you are referring to me, then yes. I don’t plan to give gifts this year, in honor of paying my bills. I used to do a lot of volunteer work with charities, so I don’t feel too bad about focusing on me for a change.
5. What one gift would you like for yourself?
An iBook with an Airport card. A girl can dream, can’t she?
We have yet another character to add to the official Veggie Patch Playset: Fudge.
After talking about bathroom funk, Shan and I wondered how we could POSSIBLY forget the gal who takes a dump every day at noon (who isn’t so good about flushing or wiping properly — sometimes she wipes her ass on the seat) and who NEVER washes her hands. Yes, everyone extend a warm welcome (but certainly not your hand!) to the newest Playset member! 🙂
Unrelated …
Jane asked if it’s OK to say “fuck” around here. Hell fuckin’ yeah!!! 😉 We need to swear some more around here. Come on, kids, tell me what’s pissing you off today. … 😉
Rejected title: The Wizard of Awes
Okay, so I volunteered to assist at the opening party of my organization’s annual conference. I did this not knowing what the theme would be.
The theme, you ask? “The Wizard of Oz.” Hand-picked by Pride Fag, our fearless leader.
*roflmfao*
He’ll probably dress as Dorothy.
Someone in the room asked, “Can I bring my dog to play Toto?” I stifled the urge to say, “No, that’ll be Pride Fag’s boyfriend.” *snerk*
This was announced in a meeting today. I almost fell out of my chair laughing. I don’t know if anybody else in the room had a concept of what a big gay icon it is (the movie, not our leader). I suggest we just make the ballroom a big gay disco and sell drugs instead of drinks.
So I was in Wal-Mart hell this evening, picking up cough drops, NyQuil (sweet nectar of the gods) and other drugs to kick this fucking case of typhoid, and I wandered into the clothing area. This guy came running into the area, looked around (but didn’t look in my direction, about five feet away), stopped dead in his tracks and emitted the loudest and nastiest expulsion of bodily fumes that one could imagine. Ick. I jerked my shopping cart and headed for the hills, and when he saw me, he jumped five feet and ran in the opposite direction. If I could have gotten through the barrier of methane, I would’ve pointed him toward the Gas X pills. *shudder*
I was working late tonight when I saw a strange car in the parking lot at work — the same car that’s always there late at night. And now that the office was broken into last night, I grabbed Angie and suggested we motor, so we could walk to our cars together. The person sat in his car for a long time, rustling around but not moving. I was brave enough to drive past and get his license plate, and I stopped a few feet away to leave a message for H.R. to tell her to run the plate. Of course, my phone kept vibrating in my hand, and I couldn’t make the call while the plate was still fresh in my mind, so I had to keep reciting the number till the phone stopped wiggling. I hope I recalled it correctly. *sigh* It’s bad enough that two cars have been stolen from the parking lot at my apartment (and I STILL have to park up the hill by the rental office ’cause there’s never a spot for me!); now I have to worry about being robbed at work … and, of course, being flatulated on at Wallyworld. Ugh.
I want to introduce new characters to the Veggie Patch Playset.
For the unfamiliar, I work for the Veggie Patch (or Club Medicated, take your pick). Shan and I came up with a “Veggie Patch Playset” that serves as the backdrop of our daily adventures. For a nominal fee, participants can secure a supplemental “Veggie Pak” full of samples of Zoloft, Xanax, Paxil, Prozac, fuzzy bunny slippers and pill cups.
Today we added “Skipper,” the newly promoted assistant for King Kumquat of the Veggie Patch (otherwise known as Cruise Director of Club Medicated). Skipper came from being Barbie’s sidekick. Do the math on that one.
We also added Popcorn Bandit (see two entries ago), formerly Candy Pig.
But the crowning jewel on our tiara of hysteria came when Shan was mentioning that, more than a week ago, somebody was supposed to give her something vital to doing her job. She still hasn’t received said item. I said that she’d have better luck asking Santa Claus for said item, because we have a better chance asking a figment of our imaginations than this real-live (sort of) person. Long story short (after some discussion of the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy), we renamed this dipshit the Halitosis Fairy. Instead of money under your pillow, you get a cloud of funk in your office.
Speaking of funk in the office, it’s clear that nobody cleaned the bathroom floors last night. It’s a fucking health hazard, the drops of blood that have been there for two friggin days. Ugh.
I’m getting sick. It’s official — I should’ve gotten a flu shot. Of course, it doesn’t help that the A/C is on in my building, blowing out the vents right above my desk. I sound like I swallowed a fucking frog. Of course, one might argue that I kiss a lot of frogs, and maybe I just sucked on one a little too hard.
Eh, forget that last part. I’ve used up my humor for the day! Anybody have a cough drop?
Truth in advertising is alive and well, my friends. …
