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At home, paying lots of attention to a conference call. Between this old cordless phone and the corporate voice network I can hardly understand it. It's like listening to a conversation in a nightclub. Now and then a word I understand filters through, and if I put those words together I get a general sense of it. Evidently the schedule prototype mechanical fit firmware SDK status tracking issues blocking item. Groovy.
Blogging is total impulse. That's why the graphic up above, and this paragraph.
Yellowjackets don't like it when you go into the garden shed they have chosen for their real estate development, pick up a shovel and knock their non-rent-paying ass out into the yard and then stomp all over their new home and crush all their babies. They don't like it at all. Fuck 'em.
After a three-mile run this morning I sat in the garage staring into space when a mud-dauber passed through that space and started feeding her baby in its neat little mud hut affixed to the top of the door frame. I grabbed a saw and hacked the happy little family in half. There's now a nick in the door frame but there's also no gaw damn mud-dauber living in my garage.
Said run took a break at the high school where there are chin-up bars. There were also a large pack of brand new football players getting a sense of how fat and soft they are even for oversized fourteen year olds. I understand their pain because of why I got an engineering degree.
Why I got an engineering degree: One day many years ago I was doing what my boss was paying me to do that day, which was deepen and widen a ditch out amongst the tomato fields just north of Dixon, CA. The temperature was about a hundred and six and the ditch was muddy and humid and home to many mosquitoes. I decided then and there I needed a job where there is always air conditioning.
Call's over. Should I IM the organizer and ask him what we talked about? No. Few dictums hold more truth in the corporate world than Proverbs 17:28:
Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise:Or as we say in the real world, better to be thought a fool, than to open one's mouth and hock a lugie into the general manager's tazo chai tea latte.
and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.
11 comments:
I'm worth a hundred bucks more than you, neener!
"Said run took a break at the high school where there are chin-up bars."
"Gimme that old Marine Corps spirit!"
I'm worth $10 more. Wonder what the difference was.
Okay there, John Wayne, have a cup of tea and try to relax.
Crushing bird babies? Sawing birds in half?
What's have they done to Don???
John Wayne? John WAYNE?
John Wayne would've melted away had he been anything but a celluloid Marine.
I'll drink the tea as long as it's green.
"It was good at the frozen Chosin...."
Congratulations, your dead body is worth $4550!
Actually, mine was about that. It says $4,975.00 but I lied and said I had short hair instead of being half bald. Oh well. How much would being hafl bald drop off the price? $200...$300? I drink green tea. Does that balance it out?
Sheesh, my abundanza couldn't even crack the median value. You'd count aged toejam as a bonus, right?
I was calling Hip John Wayne, not you Harry. He just seemed like he was all ready to run out and punch everything that was annoying him. Anyhow, my body is only worth $4200 (dead), so whaddo I know.
My Mistake, Teacake. Sorry if I overreacted. I was feeling a bit wildeyed when I wrote that. I was channeling Gunny Hartman.
Actually, Hip is a brute, a force of nature, and when he reaches the three mile mark his eyes get bloodshot and he starts growling under his breath about landing in Cuba and finishing the job.
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