Most of us Know Someone Like This

Not all attention whores are created equal.

Some are much more fun to post pictures of, and hopefully will drive up site clicks so I can get some sponsors on here.

Take Doo Wop, for instance. She is not someone who outright begs for attention, she doesn't create major scenes for her to emote about. But she DOES crave attention (and before you say anything, I am well aware that thinking anybody but myself and my closest friends give a flying leap about my whining is just as attention whore-y as anything that Doo Wop does. But at least I am up front about it). To wit, what she likes to do is to not only talk loudly on the phone, with exaggerated exasperation at every voice prompt question (and since most insurance companies allow you to key in most of your answers instead of saying them like you are a shouting Eeyore, it is unnecessary except for showing your coworkers that you are dealing with it and phishing for sympathy from them), she also likes to tell everyone (often individually) about the hell she just went through.

Did'ja hear what I just told him? You did? Well let me tell ya what I just told him...

It is usually told while sighing / laughing and back patting (we don't go full slap here, unless it is to the back of your chair), along with the usual chorus of "you ain't never told no lies" and "I know THAT'S right" affirming the situation (sometimes coming FROM Doo Wop WHILE she is telling the story).

The other part of it is the undermumbling. Long time readers may remember JabberJaws from the days in the basement / bomb shelter at Kernan. Well, Jabberjaws' red headed stepchild is Undermumbles.

Page views, people. It's how you grow an internet. Posting this picture is strictly scientific in nature. No ulterior motive, like justifying using GIS to search for her while at work is needed here. Move along, please.

Undermumblers like to sit at their desk and talk "to themselves", making vague, general exclamations of disbelief until someone bites and asks them what is going on. Then, it is STORY TIME!

Get'cher popcorn ready. Because you are going to need to keep your strength up.

The thing is, it isn't anything more than an attempt to commiserate with others who suffer the same annoyances and indignations that you do every day. People who automatically understand what a pain in the [mule.jpg] it is to deal with the insurance company's voice prompt services, as they require you to enter a litany of information that you are just going to have to give again to the customer service rep when you finally get to them (and on a side note, I would like to tell Blue Cross / Blue Shield of MD that if every time I call you for 2+ years you are "experiencing heavier than normal call volume", it is not heavier than normal, and mayhap your cheap selves should hire a few more phone jockeys. Lord knows my premiums alone are enough to fund a couple of wireless headset automatons). So we get it. We empathize. But we have our own crap we're dealing with, so maybe you could keep it down to once or twice a day.

Thanks.

Today's BONUS Mood Is...

Without rules, we have nothing

Code words do not work that way!

While I was on my medically enforced sabbatical from Purgatory, a system was developed so that those who are facing the door and can see what is coming could warn those who's cubicles face the wall (like mine does) that one of the Chinns was coming in. A simple declaration of "Man Down" is all the warning needed.

The thing is, this code has become the catch-all for EVERYTHING, whether the Chinns are in or out or in between. Cell phone rings because you forgot to turn your ringer off? "Man Down". Coffee pot is empty? "Man Down". Out of Cheez-its and needing a nosh? "Man Down".

It is (or at least it SHOULD be) a universally accepted fact that code words cannot have too many meanings, or else you have to define which meaning the code word is being used for, and this negates the effectiveness of code words.

Bunch of monkeys on the ceiling, sir! Grab your egg-and-fours and let's get the bacon delivered!

Why is it still Thursday?

Why Do I Do This To Myself?

I have a standing policy against getting into religious or political conversations at work. It can only lead to making me want to punch things and/or people. But every so often I am bombarded by other people talking about something and I before I can stop myself I am in the middle of the inanity. Like this afternoon, for instance...

Gambling. That was today's topic. Someone started saying that it says in the Bible not to gamble. After chomping at the bit for as long as I could, I finally snapped and joined in and asked where in the Bible it says "Thou shalt not double down on 11"

"Pay the man his money. And make sure to tip your demon, you hellbound BASTARD!"

Well, it turns out that on WIKIPEDIA (that paragon of accurate information) someone says that it says you can't gamble in Matthew. But I couldn't find that.

Long story somewhat short, I looked around and found THIS and THIS when I searched "Bible" and "gamble". Not a whole lot there.

The thing of it was that she kept saying how where you find gambling you find alcoholics and whores (I am shorthanding her rambles about "dens of iniquity and ill repute. Yup. Actual quotes. I felt like I was in a Revival tent for a while). My response was that just because some people with those problems gravitate towards gambling, that does not make gambling ITSELF a sin. She kept saying that when an action keeps leading towards sins that the organization (i.e. the church) says that the action itself is a sin. She talked again about alcohol, and I said that I had wine every week at church (Episcopalians - we start 'em off young, but we let our priests marry, so it's all good), she said I was confusing the issue.

At this point I kept trying to turn away from the conversation before my letter opener decided to fly across the room at some accelerated velocity, but like an old Al Pacino, I kept getting dragged back in.

I bet you were expecting a Pacino pic here, weren't ya. Well it ain't happening.

Finally, she asked me to ask my pastor on Sunday about how God feels about gambling. I said I would, but I don't really think I am going to. I don't feel like giving a report back to her about what my pastor said. Besides, I came up with a question for her that I am going to pose instead. If God is against gambling then why is THIS happening in churches all over the country?

C'mon baby! Grammy needs a new liver pill prescription!

Also, she admitted that she plays Lotto (my catch all name for the mega state, mega jackpot drawings) once in a while.

Today's Mood Is...

I really don't think I ask for too much from my job. I ask for enough electricity to power my computer and any ancillary equipment (phone, calculator, lights, et cetera), a workspace that is cool enough in the summer and warm enough in the winter that I don't have to think about the conditions (i.e. I don't sweat through my clothes or shiver so much that I can't type), access to any information that I need (referring to past work, finding information either on the phone or online)...nothing out of the ordinary.

Well, it seems another request of mine is now falling on deaf ears, and that is the request for artificial sweetener for my coffee be provided.

I have worked in offices where no coffee was provided, so I know it is not an OSHA requirement to provide liquid wakey juice as a condition of employment. But with that being said, if you ARE going to provide coffee, something as simple as Sweet n'Low should be made available for those employees for whom using sugar is not the brightest lifestyle choice. You are providing the coffee, the water, sugar, and "cream" (powdered non-dairy, but still...). If you want to stop ordering Splenda because it is too damn expensive, I understand. I don't need any high falutin' non nutrive calorie free sweetener. The crap that gives lab rats cancer is fine for me (I'm not a rat)

what a rat may look like...

After speaking to Ed "I don't need a nickname, dammit" the supervisor, we agreed that he would attempt to order something of the value menu of little packets of flavor maybe next month, once the Brothers Chinn have calmed down over this tempest in a not Southern Style teacup.

As I think of this, all I can think of is...

"Let the fools have their Tar-Tar Sauce!"

Also, Lisa needs braces...