Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
So Crazy Train is at it again. Apparently she is having some medical issue. At first she thought it was a zit, but now she doesn't. So she is going to see a dermatologist. I wholeheartedly agree with her choice.
However, she wants to make sure that EVERYONE in the office knows about her condition. For instance, she has been talking about it (loudly) to the person right next to her for a while, so that we can all hear her. For the most part everyone turned their heads enough to acknowledge that she was speaking, which to her was tacit knowledge of her plight. But it seems my choice of ignoring the whining bitch was not going to be effective. She made an appointment with the doctor (something else she made sure we were all aware of), then after 3 minutes of staring at me while she was talking to someone else (I could see her in my periphery), she came up to me and asked me to Mapquest directions to this doctor's office.
Now it is pretty obvious that if someone knows what Mapquest is enough to make the word a verb, they have at least a passing knowledge of the rudimentary workings of the sight and could look it up their damn selves. But that is not enough for the Train...
No, she needs to come right up on me and ask ME to Mapquest the address for her, and as I am looking it up (knowing that any untoward glance of "Are you fragging serious?" would cause a meltdown of global proportions, and I just got this sweater I am wearing the other day, so I don't want it ruined by crocodile tears), she begins to regale ME with the story of the little pimple that could (be something else). I know she talked the entire time, but except for the fact that she thought it was stress related (at first), and that it somehow involves a C-Pap (I have NO idea what that is or why it is or what it does, but it sounds like something that happens in stirrups - not the Roy Rogers kind of stirrups, mind you - and I do not want to think of / deal with her feminine issues. That is FAR beyond my realm of needing to know / giving a shit).
I just keep telling myself it is a short week (I am back on Friday, but I get that nice break on Thursday) and drinking my coffee. Hopefully it will be enough to stop the rising Zombie Apocalypse level of vitriol in my veins.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Why? Because today is the Office Christmas Party here in Purgatory (I have yet to find a name that resonates in my brain like Moleville did for the last job, so until I do I will keep throwing names at the wall to see what sticks), and the office is full of Shrieking Eels (kind of like Hens, but with more shrieking / flitting about).
Torry better come through with what he signed up for to bring to this shindig.
He wrote down alcoholic beverages.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Sorry your auto industry blew up, Ricky.
Yup, Congress denied the automakers bailout, and now unless either A) there isn't some massive reversal (like the first bailout) or B) Bush doesn't open up the $700B bailout for the automobile industry (something he said he wasn't keen on doing, earmarking the bailout for the financial sector), well, it is going to be a LONG 2009, kids.
Getcha popcorn ready. Either way it is going to be one hell of a show.
I may have mentioned that there is someone here at the new and improved Torture Complex (formerly known as Moleville, now relocated to a place with windows in order to tease you with the freedom you will never have). I had been calling her (or at least toying with calling her) White Trash Gwyneth Paltrow, because that is what she reminded me of. But after taking some time to work in the same general area as her, I have a new name for her...
...you see, she has the same trait that someone I used to work with in the local theatre district has, and that is that no matter what someone is talking about, she can twist it into a story about her. You could say that your pet goldfish died and within 30 seconds she would be saying how her parakeet died when she was 12 and it made her so sad and...
...well, you get the idea. And what does this have to do with a nominally coherent, all but irrelevant aging rock star? Well, do you know what the first words of "Crazy Train" are (after the "All Aboard" and the laughing, that is)?
Check out the video, you'll see / hear it. And whenever she speaks, THAT is all that I can hear in my head.
I guess it could be worse. It could be Air Supply.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
It has been that kind of month around here in the world of BSR, so I do apologize for the excruciating lack of postings.
No idea when it will clear up, but when it does, you will be the next to know depending on the order in which either I tell you or you read it here. That is as fair as I can be.