Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Things I would like to say to the people who work around me.

Dear coworker with the perpetual throat-clearing thing,

STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! This throat-clearing thing every 10 seconds is surely a sign of a horrific illness for which you must IMMEDIATELY rush off to your doctor to have diagnosed, beause my GOD if it's not I'm going to have to come over there and rip your 'eh-hemming' throat out by its roots and stuff it down your bloody larynx.

Oh, it would be lovely to do this, to stomp like Paul Bunyan to your desk, to glare at you with the ire of a thousand drunken Welshmen, to slooooowly reach for your drippy nasty air-pipe, watching your watery eyes wideen in horror as the realization that you're about to EAT YOUR OWN ESOPHAGUS hits you.

Keep it up, sister, and I shall do that very thing. YOU? Have been warned.



Hey, Farter!

Even though you might THINK you've magically erected a cone of silence around your chair when you need to pass wind, I can still hear you, you incredible gas-bag. Yes, I can HEAR you, but will no longer cower for fear of your stenchly reprisals. No, I thus counter with my intestinal rumblings of DEWM, which you will marvel at and wonder just how long it will be before I blow off such an insane amount of swamp ass that you're forced to take your own febble air biscuits and leave town like the shamed cur of effluence that you ARE.

Why, your rapid-fire pops of buttal explosion cannot stand up to the day-long brew I got going here. Oh, how sweet it is to KNOW you can hear my transverse colon stirring up a rank cloud of Phart, are you not afraid to be in the same room with me? You should be, and if I were not so much a lady as I am I would turn that puppy loose on you in a oily gas-cloud of gaggery.

But I am a lady, and so cover my internal music with sniffs and seat-shiftings and other noises so as to not overly offend or alarm you. Could you not do the same for me? COULD YOU NOT at least COUGH when you're expelling the fermentation of your crunchy lunches??

I submit that you could, or pehaps even go a step further and get to the frikking MEN'S ROOM to 'blow off some steam' Your day is coming, sir, and I would be a liar if I said it was one to which I wasn't looking forward.



Hey, team lead who decided that it would be OK to tell us that they need a protocol 6 weeks from now that hasn't even been the topic of any discussion and who I'm sure knows by now that it takes at LEAST 8 weeks to get something like this done even WHEN there's a really robust synospis and stat plan,

Sod off, and find someone else to rise to your panic-scented bait. You will not get me to acquiesce to your idiotic demands, to assume your sense of urgency, to believe that I can fix what's wrong. OH HELL NO. Not this time.

And get off my lawn.



Dear God,

I'll take several more days like this one. Holy crap it's gorgeous outside. Also? If you could do that and make it so that I could maybe actually ENJOY it instead of just WATCHING it through my stupid cube window? Would be awesome. Hey, you're God, you're awesome, so it should be no problem for you. Right?

Thanks much,


Yeah. I'm in no mood to work these days. None. Don't you LOOK at me like that or I'll write YOU a letter next. You don't want that do you? So git, and have a lovely evening. I have things to do.

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