Cork on the Fork

In a remarkable, yet highly comical turn of events, I have
returned to my former job as a Financial Specialist at FCPS.

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The job � lets face it � is for the
most part extremely unentertaining. I yearn for the days of talking to people
within 10 years of my own age. I�m ageist(sp?).

�

—

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However, today is a good day in the office. My actual/real
boss is out sick. My temporary/transient supervisor thinks I�m working on
Financial Data. I am actually going over some old financial reimbursements that
help keep me sane.

�

Its not that I slack off, its just that really enjoy the
total lack of direction and total autonomy I now possess.

�

My Organizational Chart:

Glory, Glory Hallelujah.

I split time between work, professional smoothie jobs, and waxing the ol’
car.

If it weren’t for 2 and 3, the reasons to stay awake past 3 PM would be
extremely difficult to detail.

—

Yanyway….I right this from the PC of Steven Grubb, only survivor of 27I
still clinging to his educational entanglements in Harrisonburg. Walking through
the apartment with none loving here (Steve’s on Holiday Somewhere) kind of
reminds me of the last few minutes you spend when leaving your hotel room,
everything seems packed and your a little sad to leave, but damn! I/We/You sure
did conjure up a shitstorm here a few times.

All that’s left in the fridge is a bag of pre-cooked chicken and assorted
sauces, and how I’m supposed to make a meal out of that is a concept that to
this minute eludes me. Oh well, Someone has to drink the leftovers tonight.

—-

The semi new sentra has provided me with an endless stream of vacation
opportunities that I plan to partake in at some point over the summer, but the
main plus is that I can FIT 845 Pounds of candy in the trunk. If necessary.

I came up to move my remaining possessions (Christmas Lights and Beatles Post
Cards) into storage, but am enjoying the utter, absolute, solitude that the
apartment is providing right now. Features Follow:

– Sleeping Bag on Bed = Nostalgia

– Video Games till 2 AM

– I can use nail clippers in the living room

– Sitting and Staring at where roommates used to live is like looking at your
old bedroom 25 years later

– Showering with the door open

– The AC is making me cold

– I like it cold

—-

I, in theory, should end this with a strictly 27I quotation to signify the
probable last entry written from the first apartment, but since that would be
too difficult t recall……

Billy: I don’t believe he did; I can’t find a single track.
Dutch: What about the rest of Hoppers men?
Billy: There’s no sign, sir. They never left here. Hell, it’s like they just
disappeared

I kid you not, it is 6:45 and I’m off to work. There Will be an update accordingly. In the near future. I swear.

Oh yeah, just keep reminding yourself you get paid for this.

Today’s highlight was being recruited to move furniture by the puerto rican
and her extended family, for which i was promised – but did not receive – one
diet coke beverage. I feel like Mel Gibson in “Payback” except instead of 7
Grand, I’m after 12 ounces.

On the plus side, this is a good sign because it expedites any departure from
said roommate. Unfortunately, I too am departing within the next two weeks. Game
Over, Loser. Game Over.

—–

Today was the first time I had warm sake at a restaurant – and to my great
embarassment, I was not man enough to enjoy it straight. I like mine 3/4 Sake,
1/4 Soy Sauce. Mmmm, Salt.

Several rounds of “death is not an option” led my companions and I to the
truth – Patrick Stewart is a dreamboat, and his six pack abs make him a god
among men. Oh, I’m not kidding. Picard is ripped. Think about it, if death were
not an option – Would you choose Stewart or Shatner?

—

Mini Game:

Think of a Cobbler.

Think of a Second Cobbler.

Think of a Third Cobbler.

Is it Cherry? It damn well better be.

……..

“I told you to stay in the Car!”

………

Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Reports of my assimilation have been greatly
exaggerated.

I kid you not, If you don’t believe you can be dependent on one food group
alone – you are wrong.

For 13 days I have been dependent on smoothies for, nearly, the entirety of
my dietary intake. Not fruit smoothies either, various versions of “Strawbery
Shortcake”, “Orange Dream”, and “Amaretto Mudslide” manufactured under the TGI
Friday’s Mixers Brand Name.

Breakfast – Mudslide

Lunch – Orange Dream with Dunkin Donuts Vanilla Chai as additional Flavoring
Agent

Dinner – Mixture of Assorted Chocolate Bits, Strawberry and Mountain Dew (to
add that Special Evening Sparkle!)

—–

I now find myself oddly interested in kitchen appliances that I once shirked,
foolishly believing them to be the domain of Butlers, “Kitchen Cannibals”, and
the Prawn Queen (I’m pretty sure she uses a food processor to mix equal parts
Crustacean and Goya Manufactured Legumes).

—

In news only those with a future in the business world care to read, and
possibly care about, the SAS program has made 2 hours everyday a living hell.

For those who don’t know, its used to analyze statistical information in
large data sets: Regressions, Proc Means, Data Grouping Subsets- all that boring
shit we learn to impress ……well, I don’t know why we learn it, mostly to
teach us how aggravating our lives would be if we were statistical engineers or
something.

I only write about this because I enjoy the sessions I have with this
software (Available In JMU Labs only, for my convenience!) because each and
every use is a new experience. Much like ramming your fist into a short
circuiting garbage disposal and running hydrochloric acid down the drain
simultaneously, you get that “Oompah” every time you are assigned a new project.

You may take for granted the fact that, generally, when you open a piece of
software in a windows system it: Opens, Stays Open, and “Doesn’t Crash Your
Individual PC, and every PC adjacent in a 4 Deep Configuration.” I do not.

—–

Anyway.

This beer reminds me of a joke. A guy walks up and takes a seat at the bar
and says to the bar tender I got a bet for you. You see that glass way over
there? The guy ya know, points all the way to the other end of the bar. Well i
bet you i can piss from here all the way over there into that glass without
spilling a single drop. Bartender just says that’s bullshit!! Guy goes on sayin
I guarantee, in fact i bet you $300 that i can do it! Bartender is just like all
right, go and try it! So the guy pulls out his dick and is lookin’ at the glass
lookin’ at his dick. Thinks on his dick, thinks on the glass. dick glass. dick
glass. dick glass. glass dick. and then he fu$%in lets it rip! He’s pissin on
the phone, pissin on the stools, pissing on the bar, and even pissing on the
bartender himself. he’s pissin everywhere EXCEPT in the fu$%in glass. and the
bartender is just standing there laughing his ass off, piss all dripping off his
face. Then when he finishes, the bartender says, all right pay up. The guy says
excuse me for a minute. So he walks over to the pool tables and talks to a few
guys and comes back. He slaps 300 bucks on the table and says thank you sir
happy as can be. So the bartender looks at him and says what are you so happy
for? You just lost $300! Well you see those few guys over there? Well I just bet
them $500 EACH that i can piss on your bar, piss on your phone, and even piss on
you. And not only could i do this, but you’d be happy!

Trips to your local “Gargantua Mart” shouldn’t be this expensive. However,
those dollars were well spent on useful, and essential items. I’m serious.

Its not like I bought 4 pounds of Licorice Jelly Beans or anything.

—-

I blame the following people:

Jerry

Emeril Lagasse

The guy who created Vodka

Willy Wonka

———–

By the way, that picture is my new desktop. I recommend it.

After several unsuccessful attempts of getting Jerry “P” T. woozy enough to
perform karaoke, our prayers were finally answered. In my opinion, the straw
that broke the camel’s back was Kona’s subtle, persuasive technique in the final
minutes of threatening to “stab you in the hand with this knife” if Jerry didn’t
do it.

As I finished my heart wrenching rendition of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom prison
Blues,” I eagerly handed the mic off to my “apprentice” of sorts – Well, I
really suck at singing, so I guess there isn’t really a master-apprentice
relationship to speak of, but anyway – and he stepped onto the stage dripping
the sweat of a thousand, nervous kittens in a Slim Jim Factory. (Drastic
Hyperbole)

For some ungodly insane reason, the chosen vehicle for his debut was Aretha
Franklin’s “Respect.” However, Jerry played his cards well, and even managed to
attract one FEMALE groupie onto the stage. Notice “FEMALE”, as I would not have
been surprised had it been a Large, Jolly, Ethnic Man

I congratulated him on his excellent decision to grace us with his strangely
hypnotic dancing motions.

As Kona performed what I believe to be a version of “Shoop”, I stumbled into
the kitchen and pilfered an entire bottle of Heinz 57 Sauce. And a Large Knife.

—–

Movie – $9.00

Dinner and Drinks – $15.00

Pilfered Bottle of Sauce, Johnny Cash, and Aretha in the same night –
Priceless

——

The Five-Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique.

Hilarious Fact of Hilarious Fiction?

Sometimes, just sometimes, I can construe about 1/5 of what I’m thinking into
a sentence clearly enough, thoughtfully enough, intelligently enough, and moving
enough, to actually sway someone’s opinion in a matter.

That, my good friends, Is the essence of my personality. 99.7% of the time
I’m Jibberish. I don’t mean to be, I just am. But that .3%, well, that’s candy
and nuts as they say. That’s "quotable",  that’s pertinent, that’s explicit
and implicit.

Tonight, I hit that moment. It’s a pity I know that I can’t draw that out
over a lifetime.

I had been sitting, legs-crossed, laying down on my bed.

I grew weary of sitting.

I had the urge to make Chex Muddy Buddies.

I jump to my feet.

I get dropped like a sack of bricks under my own weight.

I realize my right leg was asleep.

I break into insane laughter.

I make Chex Muddy Buddies.

Man Oh Man, I think I need to get more protein into my diet.

Of course, I say that after trying to lift roughly 180 Pounds (My dresser,
with 5 Gallon Aquarium, and a TV Set on it). Rearranging my room always makes me
fell good, like I just changed something for the better. It’s all that feng shui
stuff.

I moved everything exactly opposite to where it was previously, and when I
woke up this morning I stubbed my toe about 3 times, and tripped twice before I
made it out the door. Luckily, I Fell through the doorway onto a pile of old
soda boxes. Yeah, Soda Boxes.

……

Quote of the Update:

PJ Williamson

“When your drinking it with a hotdog, its a bag of wine. If you were
drinking it with Salmon, it would be a bottle of wine.”

One thing they never listed on the roommate selection form was, “Likes to
take shots of wild turkey before bed.” Man Oh man, I would have checked Yes.

——

Did you know Wendy’s Owns Tim Hortons?

Mmm…Timbits.

………………….

Oh, and I forgot to mention the Puerto Rican

This Weeks Crazy Ass Situation:

I stay up till 4 am wondering why her TV is so incredibly loud. Eventually I
ask her to “turn it down, you crazy bitch.” No just kidding, I’m a nice guy. I
asked politely, even though I was tired as all f$%^.

To my surprise she had some kind of dr seuss-like, noise-making hat on. I kid
you not, she was turning up the volume to drown out the sounds of her hat. She
informed that it was a hair dryer.

As I fell back into my room, I muttered that it probably had something to do
with incubating the eggs that that facesucker put in there.