Today's worktime entertainment was my very first effort at subversive character fiction, as inspired (at least partially) by shadowofsadness and newsmantim.

Maybe I should back up a bit.

Item: Several weeks ago, I received a copy of a letter from Wayne Barnard, dean of students, directed at all the newly elected student leaders. The letter was truly an amazing document ( Read more... )

Mike was filling up an orange Minute-Maid soda can with water at the cooler this morning.

"Time for more water in the coke can," he said; "'cause it's bigger than those cups."

"You should get you a bottle," I said helpfully. "Then you'd feel cool ( Read more... )

From the LA weekly on internet advertising:
"Each uninvited ad is like a non-cute 4-year-old smearing a booger across your screen," claims Dr. Valerie Sprellis, perceived authority figure of the fictional yet reasonable Merryman Institute, a privately funded organization studying correlations between advertising and suicidal depression. "Only in ( Read more... )

My advice to everyone reading this is never try to do a secret nice thing, because Mer-People suck!

While weathering a hailstorm in the safety of my office over the weekend, a friend and I discovered that the Internet will give you the names, addresses, criminal records, and photographs of convicted sex offenders living in your neigborhood (at least if it happens to be in Texas). I guess I thought that information was only available to people ( Read more... )

Dear Mr. UberMaus,
I like that Pixies song, "Debaser." Only thing is, I can't figure out what "Un Chien Andalusia" means. Help!
--Un Hombre Confusado

Dear Hombre,
I'm glad you asked. The phrase is a bastardization of the title of a movie that Charles Thompson liked -- the French surrealistic film "Un Chien Andalou," directed by a certain Luis ( Read more... )

Observed on my recent trip to New England:
On Street: Elderly Crossing
At the HoJo:
Collecting is fun,
Our towels are great.
But, please remember,
They're not part of the rate.
In the Airport: All Meals Are Identical.

My duty until I go home at 5 this afternoon, is to check on Geoff periodically, just to make sure he's conscious.

It seems he hit himself in the back of the head with a 200 lb steel I-beam he was welding. He feels OK, but, you know, these things can have a delayed reaction.

This was definitely not in the job description.

From Cary Tenis' column (which occasionally contains the worthwhile) on Salon.com today:
Even a job you hate has a lot to offer. It gives you a steady income and gets you out of the house at the same time every day -- as mundane as that is, it can help keep you from excessive brooding. And it puts you in the great brotherhood of people who hate ( Read more... )

Written by Pendulous, and based on true happenings.

Watergate Salad

FADE IN

EXT. SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD - BARBECUE -- AFTERNOON

A man is eating alone at a picnic table. A woman, possibly his wife, walks in from screen right and sits down next to him. Both have paper plates piled high with something green and spongy.

Man: [mouth full] Wow, ( Read more... )