A few quick thoughts on syrup scented bathrooms and vampires in the basement

Howdy all! First of all, let me say how great it is to know that there are at least 3 people reading this without my prompting them. I know this because two of them commented, and the third told me he read the last post. I feel like Channel 45 back in the early days, before they joined up with fox, hell, before Captain Chesapeake even. But eventually I will find my affiliation and will climb to a solid 4th in the ratings. And then, look out Equalizer-era CBS!

Okay, let me get this out of the way. or some unknown reason, for the last week or so, the men's room here in Moleville has smelled stongly of maple syrup. I find this disturbing on many levels, the least of which is the fact that I have had absolutely NO craving for IHOP recently, and I love IHOP. So this is making me angry.

Next (and this is for The Lurker, a co-worker down here who will randomly read this and comment. Lurker is the only person I trust down here to read this thing), for some reason, it seems that a co-worker who shall henceforth be known as Soop (for Sooper Shopper. She has what can only be described as a mutant power to know the sale prices of every grocery store in the greater Baltimore Metro area, and to use this power to find the best rate for crab meat and Cheerios) has been eating Garlic Bread for breakfast on a regular basis, I would say 3 times a week on average (a week being strictly Mon-Fri for the sake of comparison). Now, you might wonder, how do I know this? Is it her breath? No. Her breath is not the issue. The problem is that she brings it to work, and then puts it in the microwave to cook it before having breakfast at her desk. Before I continue, I will freely admit to have eaten a few everything bagels here in Cubicle World in my time. Lately my breakfast of choice has been Kashi Twigs and Branches cereal, with enough fiber to clean out Jabba the hut from your lower intestine, but I digress. Everything bagels do have some garlic on them, and when toasted you can smell some garlic. But this aroma is beyond the pale. And when all you want to do is drink your coffee and wake up, the last thing you want to smell is the Olive Garden right next to you, because with 3 metric tons of garlic odor in your nose the Sugar Free French Vanilla creamer in your coffee starts to dance on our tastebuds in a whole new way. Not a combination I will be submitting to Glade for their next scented candle anytime soon.

Let's see, what else has been happening. OH YEAH, I remember. For the last two days, I have been subjected to middle aged to upper middle aged women (I have not yet cut them in half to count the rings, and a gentleman never up and asks. And neither do I), have been actively discussing their sex lives, mainly their history of losing virginity and so forth. *shudder* My mini vacation CANNOT start soon enough.

Oh yeah, one other thing. Mother Hen has been pissing me off a little lately. Small stuff, but annoying. Like when I turned in my petty cash request (I am sometimes called on to go on the road to courthouses across the state to gain judgement on deadbeats), I forgot to put the reason I was requesting mileage, namely the place I went to. Well, instead of just saying, "Ron, can you fill out this portion of the authorization request that ou forgot to fill out, she literally tossed it at my feet and said "You gotta fill it out all the way. Until then you ain't getting paid!" Well fuck you very much too. When you add in that it seems more and more likely that SHE was the one who called my boss about my music instead of talking to me directly, and she is officially on the poopy list. And yes, I am aware that I just said "poopy" exactly one sentence after dropping the "F" bomb. But it is my blog dammit! I will self edit as I please.

I will try to post again before the trip, but if I don't, stay tuned for pictures. I am planning on buying a digital camera before the trip and will have to share the glory that is Maine with all of you that have never gotten to experience it.

Until then, I leave you with an example of the World's Worst Contraceptive, as created in the mind of my friend Patrick in the EMMS show during the Comedy Fest this past weekend (we made over $1000 for Autism Awareness and had excellent response from the crowds. If you live in the greater Baltimore area, look for the Autism is PSA that was shot for the Festival to be aired on most if not all local stations during April, which is Autism Awareness Month. The last kid who speaks, who is also one of the first kids to speak, is Zachary, my buddy Greg's oldest son and who is autistic himself. He did GREAT in the spot and we are all VERY proud of him). Okay, long interlude, let me set up the joke again. World's Worst Contraceptive, by Patrick...

Bounty, the Slower Knocker Upper.

If you don't think that is funny, I'm going to Shtaaaaaaaaaaaaad