Blog Take-Out

So there is an unwritten rule in a small, six-person office:

You can NOT order lunch without asking anyone else if they would like something.

I hate this rule.

Somebody ALWAYS takes me up on it.

And then, part b to that rule is that whoever orders the food has to be the one to collect all the money and pay the delivery guy when he comes.

Again, me.

Now where I come from, the Number 5 on a Chinese menu is around $4.85. Comes with soda or eggroll give or take a typo.

Can someone take a stab in someone’s eye on how much the guy who orders the Number 5 gives me to pay each time?

Go 'head, poke another eye out

That’s right,

...5 dollars.

No excuses.

No apologies.

No lame pretend show like he's looking for some extra change but really just scratching his balls...

Just five dollars.

What about tax?

What about tip?

What about the punch in the face I want to give you for taking me up on the offer every time in the first place?

Does .15 cents cover that Ducksauce Douche face?

Huh? Well? Does it??!!!

So do I scream out what I think of him?... Set him on fire?

and risk …and risk….

sounding cheap?

Hmmm…Six person office…have to live with him for more hours than my husband at this point…the words I curse can’t be made up with a blow job….

Ok, at least I can do the math.

But don’t for one second think I haven’t mother f*#!ked him in my head to death by now.

That’s how I get away with not giving my husband blow job.

I know. I know, I’m supposed to be concentrating at work here.

But all I can think about is how much this guy will be into me by the year 2020.

It will pay for my mortgage one day I’m sure of it!

...or at least one Gyno visit.

Now I have to bring in my own lunch everyday dammit.

.15 cents adds up people!

No Jew or Catholic bones about it.

That’s right, I put Jew first.

Hey, I'm ordering lunch.

Anyone want anything?

Blog In A Box

I believe in instinct.

I believe in being blunt.

I do NOT believe I can fly.

I believe someone should be working on a Time Machine that has the ability to retract all of life's "unfortunate" little moments at the touch of a button.

But until they get cracking on that sucker....

Perhaps I should have pressed that "Mute" button when stating comically to a coworker that I'd rather be hit with a double inverted yeast infection and a side of congo rash rather than go to a meeting with my manager while on a conference call....

...whilst said manager was listening in on the other end of that conference call

Perhaps.

...Why can't we fly again?

I've since changed my name and identity to protect the innocent but I can't hide in this office forever.

They just don't make holes big enough these days.

Making a coworker snort has it's price.

And yes, I know, we all must follow our own instincts and respective moral compasses. But man, I would really like to have that machine right about now.

Surely a contraption such as this could finally save me from myself!!!

What is the delay?

We make bombs right?

I don't understand the problem.

Btw, anyone have a good cure for congo rash?

... I have to go to a meeting now.

Blogish

Blogish

...My new religion.

Like it?

I found it on a lunch trip at Subway.

"What would you like on that turkey sandwich?" the poor unsuspecting Subway Sandwich Artist asks the lady in front of me.

"Just lettish"

"Excuse me?" she asks

"Just lettish"

"let-TUCE?" she confirms and spits a little, insulted on behalf of words everywhere.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Sorry about my southern accent"

?

Insert insult to injury redneck face here.

Oh stop it, just pick one.

It wasn't until she asked for a side of chomato that I started looking around for the cameras.

Now I can't tell you what part of the outraged South she was from, nor can I tell you the last time I tucked in a shirt but I would bet my last shacon, lettish and chomato sandwich that there is no picture plaque of her hanging on any Town Hall wall.

And you know I'm going back tomorrow and every day- same time exactly- to see if she comes in again.

I'm dying of churiosity about my new religion!

A'comon! wouldn't you be? (-:

No Post Radio!

I feel a severe bout of strange coming on.

Something unthinkable happened this holiday season.

I might even be talking to you from another dimension right now…I’m still not sure.

Not sure because if there is one thing I can depend on every holiday season, year in and year out…come hell or ...OK, just hell... it’s

Family Drama at Christmas.

Scream filled hallways splattered with insults and slights.

Legendary rifts dividing loved ones to separate corners forever....

So imagine my surprise when, with 2005 and 2008 grudge notes firmly in hand,

…it never came.

Maybe they were waiting until after dinner this time to begin the fallout festivities.

But even after the appropriate compliments on the food and dibs on leftovers were all said and done….

Still nothing.

Perhaps after suffering through each person’s sorry-ass, eight count piano rendition of Heart and Soul…

Nope.

Were they waiting for me to start?

‘cause I can do this.

Ooooh wait…

“Soooo how’s work going?” my sister in law asks as she slides herself onto the seat across from me.

Finally, here it comes.

I see my husband throw me a conspiring go-get-‘em wink.

I shoot him back my best Lock and Load heads up.

Ready.

“Not bad, putting in a lot of hours, you know, trying to make it work”

“That’s great. I envy you trying something different at this stage of your life. I wish I had the guts to try something else”

“…OH YEAH? WELL WHAT ABOUT THE TIME WHEN YOU SAID….huh?....wha?...

um...thanks”

?

OK, hold on here comes my other sister in law…a.k.a. Thing Two…. Now this is gonna be good.

“Hey I loved that cake you brought. It was delicious and wow your hair grew back so fast. It looks great!”

What the…..?

ALRIGHT, WHO’S DYING?

“er...thanks ….”

“Could you tell me who cuts your hair? I really need a new stylist”

“…GRRRRRRR.....I’ll email you the number…”

Am I dying?

What the HELL is happening here???!!

And it went on like this ALL night!

Everyone playing……….

NICE!

No bloodbath over Monopoly, no bruised feelings over past brawls that were securely embedded last time I checked.

What’s this world coming to when you can’t even depend on the annual Christmas fight that fuels us with the anger in which we’ve become accustomed to the entire year long?

Respective in-laws retreating into their cars to discuss the “can you believe’s” and “how could theys”.

The annual added layer of bitterness that helps build and sustain the completely, unhealthy drama that is so distinctively our family?

Don’t tell me I’ll have to find something else to talk to my husband about now.

All's I know is that 2010 ended with confusion and a well-prepared list of unspoken insults burning a hole in my stomach.

But, as the New Year rolled in..... it all became perfectly clear.

They're plotting to kill me.

Finally some action!

How was your family drama? (-: