Cheeze Squeezins

If blogging was easy, anyone could do it. Oh, wait…

Archive for the category “Hardly Working”

Provocative and Eye-Catching Title goes HERE

Well, when I started this blog, I actually thought I would blog. On it.  Frequently.  That I would join the ranks of the witty, scathing satirists and snarkophiles, my URL getting ladeled over blogrolls across the interwebs with great abandon.  Yes, people would come to my blog, and they would comment, and give me one of those virtual noogies or a punch in the shoulder about just how great that last post was, and really, why haven’t you written a book yet because you’re just that damn good/funny/charming/obnoxious?  I’d get a bunch of trackbacks and tweets with those wierd tiny urls.  Fawning posts on other blogs about how they were gonna blog about this or that, but Cheeze already did it, and really, just go read his post instead of mine.  Yes, you can almost see the little sparkles in my eyes as I gaze off, slightly up and to the left at that classic angle, fingers curved and set lightly under my chin, with a vague, distant smile as I let it all play out in my head.

Well, when I started this blog, I didn’t plan on having all my internal organs ripped out and replaced with radioactive sand.  But I digress.

I’m still trying to come to grips with this whole separation thing. Some days I’m all self-righteous and angry about what SHE is doing TO me, and then next I’m all melancholy and angsty, wondering what it was I did to make this happen.  And then I’m back with the, “I’ve done so much, tried so hard, how come it’s never enough?!?”  Only to cycle over into picking over every mistake, holding it up, looking at it in great, morose detail, then smashing myself in the forehead with it over and over again.

It’s hard not to write about something when it’s consuming your life, but I really don’t want this to turn into a whinging ooh-I’m-getting-divorced blog.  Because, yeah, THAT’S the way to keep your customers coming back for more!  Now with even MORE 13-year-old emo drama in every bite!  Ga’ak.

Is there an apostrophe in “Ga’ak?”  Gaak?  Probably not, eh?

So, how about those debates, eh?  Romney really brung it, right?  I didn’t actually see either one, but I’ve read a lot of blog posts about them, so that’s pretty much the same thing.  I honestly don’t understand how Obama is still in the running for anything other than the guy who wipes down the chrome on your car after you take it through the car wash.  Considering what a hash he’s made of our economy, our national prestige, and just about everything else he’s touched, I’da thought even the Democrats could have run somebody against him and won.  But no, it looks like the cult of Obama is a strong as ever.

Now if only my marriage had that kind of staying power.  Damn.  Did it again. Sorry.

I fear that my chosen means of dealing with the stress will be food, and I will balloon myself up to 200 pounds.  Because THAT’S what a woman want in her man.  Uncontrolled obsessive eating.  Not that it matters at this point, DOES IT?! NO!  A LITTLE LATE NOW, ISN’T IT?!

Crap. Gotta quit that.

So, yeah, elections coming up.  Got my absentee ballot. No, you don’t get to know where I live.  I plan to be an informed voter and actually research all the candidates in my local election, even though I haven’t actually lived in my “home” states for eight years. No, you don’t get to know that either.  Okay, it’s Washington state.  But that’s it. That’s all you get. 

I have a sort of cynical attitude towards absentee ballots.  I figure their like some sort of consolation prize, or the trophy that everyone gets these days at the end of the soccer season, so that you can feel like you actually participated, even though everybody knows they don’t actually count for shit.  Kind of like everything I’ve tried to do in my MARRIAGE for the last 17 YEARS!

Heavy sigh. My sincerest apologies.  I guess I really do need to go have a quiet time somewhere.  Maybe have a few drinks.  Mellow out a bit. Because, I mean, after all it doesn’t matter if I drink NOW, DOES IT, HONEY?!  DOES IT?!

Damnit.

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I read it for the articles….

So, I’m thinking of going to see the Katy Perry movie tonight.  Because, well, Katy Perry.

Pull Pin For Service

Today, I do here-by verily dub and proclaim this day to be…

“Go Hug A Grenade” Day.

As in, my life is entirely too full of people to whom I’d like to just up and say, “Go hug a grenade, you mendacious twatwaffle.”

I’m thinking Hallmark could make a killing on the cards.

Get it?  A KILLING?!  HAH! 

Seriously, though.  It’s one of those days.

The Office Mates From HELLLLL!

Yes, we all have them. Well, no, okay, not ALL of us, because, like, 10% unemployment, but……….anyway.

After far too many years squandered in various office jobs in various environments, I’ve come to discover that most office denizens can be classed into a few basic categories.  True, I may just have a karmatically unique ability to land amongst wierdos and social outcasts, but overall my observations have supported the theory that these creatures are commonly found in most office environments. To wit:

1) The Stealth Nose Picker.  Also known as the, “I’ve managed to convince myself that no one can see me picking my nose as I duck down behind my computer monitor” guy.  Yes, dude, we see you as you tenaciously work that pinky finger in to well past the second knuckle questing for that elusive gold.  And, we’re all pretty sure that you’re the one who flicks them all over the back side of the bathroom stall door, too.

2) Mr. “I’m Too Damn Busy/Important to Make Another Pot” Guy.  Yes, you know and love this person. And by “love” I mean want to stake them out on a fire ant mound covered in nothing but a Honey WheatBerry Jamba Juice smoothie.  You know, the person who drinks five or six cups of coffee a day, but will empty the last drop from the caraf with a bitter sigh of frustrated regret and betrayal that “someone” couldn’t keep the damn thing full for him, and so he has to settle for half a cup.  And, who then jams the pot back in the brewer and walks off, wearily shaking his head, leaving it stone cold empty despite all the colorful signs quoting Terry Tate saying, “IF YOU KILL THE JOE, YOU MAKE SOME MO!”  If you try and corner them about why, just WHY they didn’t make another pot, the answer will invariably be some variant of, “I was in a hurry and didn’t have time“.  Yeah, that’s right, because those YouTube videos aren’t going to watch themselves now are they?

3) The “I Didn’t Drink The Last Of It” Guy.  A close relative of Number 2,  this is the person who, regardless of how much coffee is (or isn’t) left in the pot, will always leave just a liiiiittle bit left in the bottom, even if it’s a whole whopping tablespoon or two.  This helps assuage any potential guilt by ensuring the ability to — with utter integrity and deniability — claim that they DIDN’T, in fact, drink the last of the coffee, because technically there are a good 14 or 15 molecules of it still left in there.  So, nooo, I DON’T have to make another pot (see #2) and get off me.

4) Speaker Phone Guy.  Ah yes, my personal favorite.  Usually a manager or sales rep.  Invariably results from an excessively over-optimistic self-evaluation of the “hip-ness” of the individual . For some reason, these offenders seem to be overwhelmingly male; mostly faux Alpha Males who want everyone to know just how central they are to everything going on by sharing all the intimate details of their phone conversations with everyone around them.  Conversations beginning with some variant of, “Hey Buddy! How they hangin!” followed closely by a hilarious personal anecdote involving “those chicks at that bar last night.”  And for some reason, despite all the advances in modern technology, micro-circuity and audio enhancement widgets that can pick up a fly farting half a mile away, SPG feels it necessary to talk loud enough for the guy in the corporate office in LA to hear him from Memphis…WITHOUT the phone.  Because using a handset it just so…so…”the little people.”

I’m sure there are many more, like “Always Leaves His Print Job On The Printer For Several Hours” Guy, and “Farts and Hope No One Notices Even Though OH MY GAAWD!” Guy.  But that, dear readers, is for another day.

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