Alert readers with fairly good memory skills will recall that last week's post slipped in a tiny mention of the end of my job search...and the good news is, the search didn't end because I gave up, but because the incantations I pronounced over my resume and LinkedIn profile finally took effect and fooled some fool into hiring me.
For a while, at least.
Officially, this position with DocumentCzar will last nine months, but there's already talk about how the more amazing I am the more likely it will turn into a long-term gig.
No pressure there.
The biggest pressure for me, actually, is centered in the central area of my body...round about the bladder. Being back in the highly-processed air of an office environment, trying to keep hydrated by ingesting copious amounts of water, I find myself needing to make a few trips down the hallway to the men's room. (There IS a slightly closer rest room, but its door says "whoa men"...I'm not allowed to "go" there.)
At least it's a nice rest room: Touchless dispensers for soap and paper towels, aromatic oils, soft lighting....
The problem is, there's lots of people in this office. People who apparently have the same issue with bladder function as I do. It took me five trips before I got to stand at the grown-up's urinal. Until then, I was stuck trying to hit the mark at the Billy Barty Memorial Porcelain Pee Pot.
And don't even get me started on what happens when I need to do more than a stand-up job.
("Eww...can we move on to a different subject, please?")
Biggest perk so far: my manager keeps a bowl of chocolate on her desk; available for any and all raiders. I've already gained three pounds.
In memory of the recent anniversary of the day of my birth:
(To the tune of "Sixteen Candles")
Sixteen candles...
Times three point six two five
That's how long I've been alive
Can you believe this jive?!!?
Blow out my candles
It might take a crowd
And I'm not too proud
To ask you to sing loud
(To the tune of "You're 16 [You're Beautiful and You're Mine]")
I may be your worst nightmare
Losing my hair
But Mama didn't raise no fool
I'm 58
I'm balding
But I'm cool
I'm all wrinkled and plain
With major joint pain
I can't do laps in a pool
I'm 58
I'm balding
But I'm cool
(To the tune of "Sixteen Tons")
You live 52 weeks, and what will transpire?
You're one year older and harder to hire.
St. Peter, just call me; I'm ready to leave.
Unemployment's run out, but I will not grieve.
(Postlude)
These gems were written before a late-July offer of full-time employment, with a start date the Monday after my last week of unemployment benefits...the day after my birthday. Nice present!
You know how you can do a search on the World Wide Wackfest on a person's name, right?
And you know that there are companies out there who offer to give you information about that person...for a price, right?
Well, imagine my glee when I typed a particular person's name into my friendly neighborhood search engine and was offered information on that person as part of a FREE seven-day trial of this particular company's informational offerings.
Then I looked closer...
This word "free"...I do not think it means what you think it means.
Belly up to the bar, friends. Let me pour you a large glass of what you've been missing if you're not plugged in to the Almost the Truth Publishing FaceBook page.
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a refund.
This status update is a lie.
Ain’t no sunshine when it’s night. Seldom dark during the day. Ain’t no sunshine when it’s night, and that’s not good for my sight. Guess I’ll just see in the day.
April 15…wasn’t there something important I was supposed to do today? Oh well…I’ll think of it tomorrow.
Look! I can tour farther. (Punny #StarWars reference)
I’m all about the bass…and the trout…and the walleye.
Indiana Jones, having gone vegan, at a backyard gathering of friends: “Steaks. Why did it have to be steaks?”
At what point in my past did I ever do anything so horrible as to deserve the burden of meatless lasagna?
Sittin’ on the dock of the bay, praying these splinters aren’t here to stay…
Don’t know whyyyyyy there’s no sun up in the skyyyyy…oh…it’s nighttime.
As the rabbi empty-handedly said to the priest on Easter, “Frankly, my peer, I don’t give a ham.”
Fie…wordakeen…udda four ehhhhhhhhhhfs…nahkween…nahdook…nahprints…
For every action, there’s an equal and…no…a doubled and opposite misinterpretation.
Said one Looney Tunes gladiator to another, "You got Fudd on your mace, you big disgrace."
Some people think Arby’s. Others contemplate malnourished insects tended to by Noah: Ark Thin Bees.
The love of algebra is the square root of all evil.
If you've been anywhere other than under a rock for the last few days, you know all about the ball-of-stuff-formerly-known-as-a-planet, Pluto, and how its years-in-the-making close-up fly-by by the unmanned spacecraft, New Horizons, is rocking the astronomical world.
You know that if Earth was the size of a basketball, Pluto would be the size of a golf ball.
You know that it takes five hours for the radio signals from New Horizons to get to Command Central.
You know that it takes 100 times longer for its data to download than your phone modem took to buffer its way through a secret Napster acquisition.
However...
What I read in Thursday morning's paper...being passed off matter-of-factly as a commonly-accepted matter of fact...is something I don't think any person on this planet can actually know.
In the thrillingly-headlined piece by the Associated Press' Marcia Dunn, Peaks on Pluto are Rocky Mountain high; Charon has canyons, Dunn states...
The zoom-in of Pluto, showing an approximately 150-mile swath of the dwarf planet, reveals a mountain range about 11,000 feet high and tens of miles wide. Scientists said the peaks - seemingly pushed up from Pluto's subterranean bed of ice - appeared to be a mere 100 million years old. Pluto itself is 4.5 billion years old.
I open the paper and read that and just go...
To be, relatively, right there with scientific measuring instruments and still only be able to say the mountains are "about 11,000 feet high," but in the same breath declare the whole planet's age ... I mean ... seriously ... how ... what...?!!?
Beloved and I took a quick trip to Hoosierland recently so I could visit my mom, SweaterGal. I hadn't been back home since FlatulenceKing passed away, and it was just a good idea to get away from The Job Search and spend time with her for a few days.
It's funny what can happen to good ideas.
We thought it would be a good idea to take our two grandsons, SkittleKid and MrSquishy, with us...along with their mother, AngelFace, of course. You know...let great-grandma see the little bruisers and get reacquainted with the joys of sibling rivalry.
Have I mentioned that, on a good day, it's a ten-hour drive to the Indiana homestead?
Add to that normal drive time emergency rest stops ("I have to go NOW! I can't wait! Ican'twaitIcan'twaitIcan'twait!!!"), leg stretching ("Get...me...OUT of this seat! Arrrrrrr! Uhhhhhhh! I...can't...stand...UP!!!"), and the Clean Air Act-required disposal of well-filled diapers, and the trip took more like three days.
Which left us four hours to swelter in the 86-degree norm that spells comfort for SweaterGal in her very own home.
There was a brief respite though, when AngelFace treated me to a belated Father's Day gift of a side trip to Skyline Chili. It was an extra 140-mile round-trip for her, SkittleKid, and me, but being able to introduce my first grandson to his first taste of Cincinnati-style chili was worth it.
Besides, it made the trip back to Minnesota so much nicer. SkittleKid just sat in his car seat, rubbing his tummy and licking his smiling lips as he savored the memory of the best cheese coney God ever brought into being.
"Let's do that AGAIN!"
Here I sit, on the cutting edge of popular culture, being very careful not to slip.
I saw the recently-trending Twitter hashtag, #MakeAMovieUnderwhelming, and my fertile mind started stinking to high heaven. Not wanting to be influenced by the mediocrity of the Twitterverse, I didn't actually click on or read anyone else's contributions, but decided to unleash my own concoctions upon an unsuspecting world.
Stand back, this isn't going to be pretty...
- Harry Potter and the 2nd Grader's Marble
- Harry Potter and the Small Closet of Rumors
- Harry Potter and the Azkaban Visitor Who Overstayed His Welcome
- Harry Potter and the Shot Glass of Gatorade
- Harry Potter and the Committee of the Phoenix
- Harry Potter and the One-Eighth Blood Duke
- Harry Potter and the Slightly Nauseating Hallows
- The Cat, the Sideshow Medium, and the Broom Closet
- Single Sapling Gump
- Star Disagreements Episode One: Phantom Irritation
- Star Disagreements Episode Two: Phone Prank of the Clones
- Star Disagreements Episode Three: (Montezuma's) Revenge of the Sick
- Misplaced With the Slight Breeze
- The Wizard of Odd
- Guardians of the Garage
And yes...I realize that making Episode One of Star Wars underwhelming is just being redundant.
