...you want anything on that burger?
Thought of the Day:
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Eleanor Roosevelt
US diplomat & reformer (1884 - 1962)
Not only did I come into work late yesterday:
I left early. Ok, it was not my intention, as a matter of fact it started out as a late lunch, very late, ie: 3:00pm. I had planed on skipping lunch, but someone here was warming something up and it smelled good, so like Pavlov’s dog, it was salivating all over myself.
I decided what I needed was a “Big Buford” burger from Rally’s. You know that kind of fast food burger you normally only get when you’re drunk or hung-over, with a weeks supply of grease that is guaranteed to give you zits just like those you had in middle school. “I got to Eat”. So, off I went, getting my food in record time (not a big line mid-afternoon) and started back to the office.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I tend to have any fast food eaten before I get to my parking space (I even have the reserved VIP spot right outside the front door, yes, boys and girls I am the King-Shit). I finished my last greasy fries while parking, wadded up the trash, tossed it in the garbage and still had time for my meeting at 3:15. Here dear reader is where the problem lays. You see, when those fine folks over at Rally’s make a “Big Buford”, they are quite liberal with condiments, quite liberal indeed.
So, I walk into the Borg’s office for an afternoon Dept. Head and Directors meeting. Taking the only seat openthe last of 9, the one closest to the Borg. It was at this point I started getting uncomfortable looks form my colleagues. One brave soul broke the silence, asking “Ummm, JQP?” me: Yes? “Ummm, did you just go somewhere? Me: Why yes, I ran downtown for a bit. "Ummmm, yeah… ummm, did you stop anywhere?" "Perhaps meet Mrs. JQP?" me: No, (at this point I was wondering what the hell she was asking this for, I mean, what fuck are you getting at) so I asked why?
She turns bright red and says “you have something all over your pants” I look down and swallow my tongue and almost piss myself… There for all to see was the BIGGEST wad of Mayonnaise hanging from the crotch area of my pants… Folks it was a money shot the late great John Holms would have been proud of…
I quickly recovered (I, JQP am nothing if not situationally aware ) and said “Holy-fucking-shit” “That’s from my “Big Buford” which of course made the room full of women start to laugh so hard they were crying, it took me a moment to understand (yes, dear reader, I was a bit slow on the up-take)
NO, God-Damn-it! “I stopped by Rally’s and got a late lunch” No, I wasn’t over at the seedy motels or clubs by the interstate, no I didn’t knock off a quickie with the Sweet and Still a bit Moody Mrs. JQP, No, I didn’t hit the park or any rest area along the interstate, I just dropped some Mayo on myself whilst eating in the truck”!!! I think that took me all of two seconds to say, I then asked the Borg for a Kleenex, wiped myself and said, I assume someone will send my notes on the meeting and got up and left…
You ever drop Mayo on cords? Did you know that wiping it off with a Kleenex really doesn’t do the trick? So, I went back to my office, and grabbed the biggest note book I could find and walked up front and got my coat and of to the manor house I went. You know, about half way home I started laughing, because, at moments like this, you can either laugh or cry. I always tell myself “self, It could have been worst, it could of, I don’t see how right now, but it could always be worst”. I got home, changed clothes and when to bed with a good book in a feeble and hopeless attempt to put the whole thing behind me, vowing to never eat in my truck again etc…
About 6 pm my Sweet and Cramping wife came home, an early night for her. She came up-stairs and asked how my day was (something she never does), I said fine, I am just relaxing and doing a bit of reading. Her: “oh really, nothing happened? Me: “nope, just a day” To which she started laughing, and laughing hard… (I have not see her that tickled since she painted rude things on a co-worker who had fallen “asleep” backstage at a concert, the poor girl walked around a large rock festival with things written on her that for the sake of decency I can not print here, if my memory serves me, she ending up being “hospitalized” and my “little flower” ended up getting her office).
“Well, gee, dear husband, I had a room full of women from your office call me at work today around 4:30…they even put me on speaker phone, and told me a little story about my man-slut and his eating habits, it was so funny I had to call everyone who was around my office in to hear it…” (Fucking shoot me now, I am surprised a news team from one of the local stations didn’t call and try to set up an interview).
Needless to say my Supportive and Tickled wife Mrs. John Q. Public enjoyed the events of my day, to the point she took it upon herself to call most everyone we know and share it, and if she wasn’t calling the fucking phone was ringing. Yes, in two hours the story of my afternoon at Rally’s was not only coast to coast but also worldwide, (so, far today, I have gotten e-mails from Germany, Ireland, the Philippines, Canada, the combat zones of Iraq, Afghanistan, my own fucking USO show, oh, well anything to keep up the sprits of the troops, 17 of the states, and one Commonwealth).
It took me a bit to realize that my dear colleagues, who took it upon themselves (the Borg & the HR Dir. included) had called Mrs. JQP around 4:30, that means they sat in that office laughing from 3:20 (which I assume was my departure time, to 4:30, when they had her on speaker phone). If anyone wonders why I drink, dear friends’ need I say more, need I?
Which of course brings me to this morning, I walked in and sitting in the middle of my desk is a jar of Miracle Whip, and perhaps 300 dollars worth of Rally’s coupons (pronounced co-pon, not q-pon, that sounds to much like tamp-pon). And a e-mail from both the Board President and the Executive Director, saying thank you for my hard work and efforts to improve the morale of the my fellow staff members. Anything for the cause, I have not had enough guts to listen to the 37 VM I have waiting for me on the phone.
Well, I just wanted to share this story, so you got it from me, because in the next week you will most likely hear it from someone else. …and yes, everyone here just sees me and starts giggling…. Brothers and sisters, this is turning into one fucked up week…
Your Bill for the Day:
"Out, damned spot! out, I say!" --From Macbeth (V, i, 38)
(I couldn’t resist and I know that if I didn’t one of you smart asses would send it to me)
Your Quote of the Day:
If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you're old. Edgar Watson Howe, US journalist (1853 - 1937)
At times Embarrassed but never Bettered, I remain:
JQP MBA, CPA
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Eleanor Roosevelt
US diplomat & reformer (1884 - 1962)
Not only did I come into work late yesterday:
I left early. Ok, it was not my intention, as a matter of fact it started out as a late lunch, very late, ie: 3:00pm. I had planed on skipping lunch, but someone here was warming something up and it smelled good, so like Pavlov’s dog, it was salivating all over myself.
I decided what I needed was a “Big Buford” burger from Rally’s. You know that kind of fast food burger you normally only get when you’re drunk or hung-over, with a weeks supply of grease that is guaranteed to give you zits just like those you had in middle school. “I got to Eat”. So, off I went, getting my food in record time (not a big line mid-afternoon) and started back to the office.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I tend to have any fast food eaten before I get to my parking space (I even have the reserved VIP spot right outside the front door, yes, boys and girls I am the King-Shit). I finished my last greasy fries while parking, wadded up the trash, tossed it in the garbage and still had time for my meeting at 3:15. Here dear reader is where the problem lays. You see, when those fine folks over at Rally’s make a “Big Buford”, they are quite liberal with condiments, quite liberal indeed.
So, I walk into the Borg’s office for an afternoon Dept. Head and Directors meeting. Taking the only seat openthe last of 9, the one closest to the Borg. It was at this point I started getting uncomfortable looks form my colleagues. One brave soul broke the silence, asking “Ummm, JQP?” me: Yes? “Ummm, did you just go somewhere? Me: Why yes, I ran downtown for a bit. "Ummmm, yeah… ummm, did you stop anywhere?" "Perhaps meet Mrs. JQP?" me: No, (at this point I was wondering what the hell she was asking this for, I mean, what fuck are you getting at) so I asked why?
She turns bright red and says “you have something all over your pants” I look down and swallow my tongue and almost piss myself… There for all to see was the BIGGEST wad of Mayonnaise hanging from the crotch area of my pants… Folks it was a money shot the late great John Holms would have been proud of…
I quickly recovered (I, JQP am nothing if not situationally aware ) and said “Holy-fucking-shit” “That’s from my “Big Buford” which of course made the room full of women start to laugh so hard they were crying, it took me a moment to understand (yes, dear reader, I was a bit slow on the up-take)
NO, God-Damn-it! “I stopped by Rally’s and got a late lunch” No, I wasn’t over at the seedy motels or clubs by the interstate, no I didn’t knock off a quickie with the Sweet and Still a bit Moody Mrs. JQP, No, I didn’t hit the park or any rest area along the interstate, I just dropped some Mayo on myself whilst eating in the truck”!!! I think that took me all of two seconds to say, I then asked the Borg for a Kleenex, wiped myself and said, I assume someone will send my notes on the meeting and got up and left…
You ever drop Mayo on cords? Did you know that wiping it off with a Kleenex really doesn’t do the trick? So, I went back to my office, and grabbed the biggest note book I could find and walked up front and got my coat and of to the manor house I went. You know, about half way home I started laughing, because, at moments like this, you can either laugh or cry. I always tell myself “self, It could have been worst, it could of, I don’t see how right now, but it could always be worst”. I got home, changed clothes and when to bed with a good book in a feeble and hopeless attempt to put the whole thing behind me, vowing to never eat in my truck again etc…
About 6 pm my Sweet and Cramping wife came home, an early night for her. She came up-stairs and asked how my day was (something she never does), I said fine, I am just relaxing and doing a bit of reading. Her: “oh really, nothing happened? Me: “nope, just a day” To which she started laughing, and laughing hard… (I have not see her that tickled since she painted rude things on a co-worker who had fallen “asleep” backstage at a concert, the poor girl walked around a large rock festival with things written on her that for the sake of decency I can not print here, if my memory serves me, she ending up being “hospitalized” and my “little flower” ended up getting her office).
“Well, gee, dear husband, I had a room full of women from your office call me at work today around 4:30…they even put me on speaker phone, and told me a little story about my man-slut and his eating habits, it was so funny I had to call everyone who was around my office in to hear it…” (Fucking shoot me now, I am surprised a news team from one of the local stations didn’t call and try to set up an interview).
Needless to say my Supportive and Tickled wife Mrs. John Q. Public enjoyed the events of my day, to the point she took it upon herself to call most everyone we know and share it, and if she wasn’t calling the fucking phone was ringing. Yes, in two hours the story of my afternoon at Rally’s was not only coast to coast but also worldwide, (so, far today, I have gotten e-mails from Germany, Ireland, the Philippines, Canada, the combat zones of Iraq, Afghanistan, my own fucking USO show, oh, well anything to keep up the sprits of the troops, 17 of the states, and one Commonwealth).
It took me a bit to realize that my dear colleagues, who took it upon themselves (the Borg & the HR Dir. included) had called Mrs. JQP around 4:30, that means they sat in that office laughing from 3:20 (which I assume was my departure time, to 4:30, when they had her on speaker phone). If anyone wonders why I drink, dear friends’ need I say more, need I?
Which of course brings me to this morning, I walked in and sitting in the middle of my desk is a jar of Miracle Whip, and perhaps 300 dollars worth of Rally’s coupons (pronounced co-pon, not q-pon, that sounds to much like tamp-pon). And a e-mail from both the Board President and the Executive Director, saying thank you for my hard work and efforts to improve the morale of the my fellow staff members. Anything for the cause, I have not had enough guts to listen to the 37 VM I have waiting for me on the phone.
Well, I just wanted to share this story, so you got it from me, because in the next week you will most likely hear it from someone else. …and yes, everyone here just sees me and starts giggling…. Brothers and sisters, this is turning into one fucked up week…
Your Bill for the Day:
"Out, damned spot! out, I say!" --From Macbeth (V, i, 38)
(I couldn’t resist and I know that if I didn’t one of you smart asses would send it to me)
Your Quote of the Day:
If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you're old. Edgar Watson Howe, US journalist (1853 - 1937)
At times Embarrassed but never Bettered, I remain:
JQP MBA, CPA
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 2:20 AM
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