Category: Humor

Humor, Office, University, Work

Very Important Panic

“Fellows who know all about that sort of thing – dectives and so on – will tell you that the most difficult thing in the world is to get rid of the body…”
– P.G. Wodehouse

So, on Friday we had a majorly important visitor.  One of international consequence, influence, and meddling.  His security detail/entourage/People were on campus days in advance and had to be herded around the whole university.  I had to put together information packets for them detailing our VIP’s time down to minute increments.  It was a well-knit, flawless operation.

Until the grounds crew, digging around the Law School, unearthed a large plastic bag of large bones: partial leg bones, ribs, and coccyx. 

Cue flashes of  Ted Bundy, Jack the Ripper, Dexter, and Hannibal Lecter.  As you can imagine, it was a thrilling, suspenseful hour or so until we got an Anthropologist to inspect them (Sidenote: I really think all police departments should be located on university campuses.  Think of the treasure trove of experts at your fingertips!). 

They turned out to belong to a deer.  What a let down.

Nevertheless, the weekend was a welcome event after the excitement.  Monday has come way too early.

Fabulous, Friends, Humor, Marriage, University

Spunky Chap With His Hat at a Jaunty Angle

“Strange to see what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition.”
– Samuel Pepys

The Marriage Mart, of Regency fame, is alive and well on this campus.  We’re getting close to the time of a semester (directly after finals, usually) that people rush to get married before the summer term starts up.  In fact I have a small horde of friends tying the knot in the next two months.  In a year or two, I’ll be attending baby showers.

This vid gets a Tip O’ My Hat to Sav for finding it, and check out her site for another dose  (that one in honor of the mutual lambasting by colleagues, acquaintances, and Fox News we endured for our less than hateful attitude towards current events in the capital).

Drama, Health, Humor, Life, Snark, Stupid People

Know-Nothing. Party.

C.’s Quick Translation for Online Oppinuendo on Health Care

You liberal/conservative idiot! :   I respectfully disagree with you.

Don’t you have a brain?! :   I respectfully disagree with you.

The Republicans/Democrats are out of touch with the American people!  Down with them!  Drag them into the streets! :   Rep-R/Rep-D voted against my personal opinion! 

Obama is the Antichrist! :  I’m conservative.

Obama is brave to take this problem on! :   I’m liberal.

Stop making asinine comments! :   I have weighed and measured such information as I have found, and I now find myself on the other side of the aisle from you.

You socialist nazi! :   I respectfully disagree with you.

You conservative nazi! :   I respectfully disagree with you.

This is a choice between good and evil! :   This is a choice between political ideologies, about which I feel very strongly.

It’s unconstitutional! :   It personally offends my sensibilities.

I can’t even begin to tackle your logical fallacies! :   I refuse to attempt to see things from your liberal/conservative point of view and prefer to argue.

As a future doctor I don’t want to have the government dictate the terms of my work (requirements, treatment standards, paycheck, etc.) to me! :   I much prefer to dictate the terms of my work  (requirements, treatment standards, paycheck, etc.) to my patients myself.

Go ****/$$$$/@@@@/%%%%  yourself! :   I’m afraid we just can’t see eye to eye on this. 

The End Times are coming! :   I am seriously displeased with the turn of events.

I’m moving to Canada! : I am not actually moving to Canada despite ranting to the contrary for some time. 

 

There, now you find yourself able to navigate the intricacies of Facebook, comment threads, and forum mudslinging.  Take a few calm breaths to recharge and think of some withering profanities, and when you feel ready, charge back into the fray.  Discussion doesn’t seem to be the name of the day, so feel free to bandy tired clichés back and forth, quote the pundits/talking heads in lieu of actual original thought, and mistake insults/gloating for a solution.  Carry on!

Fashion, Humor

The Downside

“Darling, the legs aren’t so beautiful, I just know what to do with them.”
– Marlene Dietrich

Last week in an effort to hurry Spring along by dressing the part (which worked swimmingly, by the way!) I broke out this pretty thing I scored on Ebay:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Darling, no? 

The problem?  As J. and I were walking to the car for lunch, I happened to glance down and see this:

Pictured: artist's rendering of my legs.

 

“Why did you let me outside looking like this?!” I demanded.
“You’re a quarter Slovak, I have no idea why you have albino legs,” he retorted.

Humor, Office, Work

Horror!

 “Work is the curse of the drinking classes.”
– Oscar Wilde. 

It's definitely a rage stroke.

I haven’t complained about work in a while, and there is a very simple reason for that.  I had a rage stroke.  Seriously.  I got so angry that the rage literally had nowhere to go so it just retreated to a corner of my brain and fizzled.  Between what I consider to be bad management with our pet project (which is still giving us a ridiculous amount of grief), and ego running our office in terms of funding, personnel relations, and department communication and day-to-day running, I was just FED UP.

Then, suddenly and blissfully, I just didn’t care anymore.  Of course I’m not so foolish as to think the apathy is permanent.  Just a few days later our copy machine threw up its metaphoric hands and said, “To hell with it,” Hennessy and I got so stressed that she had a minor meltdown and I spent a cathartic ten minutes kicking a brick wall before I went home, and self-entitled people began pouring out the woodwork (think they’ve been hibernating?).  

To top it off, Dilbert™ for the past couple of days has been frighteningly like our department.  Either Scott Adams secretly works here, or my worst fears have been confirmed and every job in the world is exactly the same. 

And still they don't get it...
And still they don't get it...
I promise this isn't an exaggeration. Really.
No. REALLY.
Humor, Office, University

It’s Alive!

“The trouble with troubleshooting is that trouble shoots back.”
– Unknown

So, while documenting records in our database, I must have tapped some keys in just the right order to summon the devil.  Or something.  Because this popped up in that scary font only techie types use:

This version requires a [something or other thing that I don’t understand] directory to store your alias files.  Shall I create it for you?  Y/N

At a loss, I type “N” and assumed it would all go away.  The response…

Very well.  I won’t create it.

But you may run into difficulties later.

Die, evil computer program, die!  Help, my computer has become self aware!

I wouldn't do that, C.
Family, History, Holidays, Humor

Luck ‘o the [Insert Nationality]

“The list of Irish saints is past counting; but in it all no other figure is so human, friendly, and loveable than St. Patrick – who was an Irishman only by adoption.”
– Stephen Gwynn

This might be the only holiday where people have to actually genetically alter themselves to feel like they qualify for the desired binge.

For some reason, come St. Patrick’s Day every single person in the US seems to acquire Irish geneology, even where previously there was none before.  And everyone gets wildly protective of their geneology and suspicious of others.  I overheard a loud girl on her cell phone while walking from car to office today, “Yeah, I don’t know where she gets off saying she’s Irish!  She just dyes her hair red.  I mean, my family, we’re Irish…”  

This is particularly funny to me these days because the state I live in is notoriously English and Scandinavian in terms of population.  Blonde hair and blues eyes abound and names ending -son/sen are very much the majority.  (Note: mobile phone girl was a Viking’s daughter if ever I saw one!) 

Now, we do know we have some Irish ancestry because we have family records detailing which of them got gruesomely killed in the battle of Boyne, but I digress.  The point is that my father is…wait for it…half Slovak.  So my Dad has darker skin and tans wonderfully, as do all my siblings, and don’t get me started on my fantastically beautiful black-haired, blue-eyed, dark-skinned cousins! 

And me?  I’m short, brunette, green-eyed, incredibly pale (un-tan-able) and bad-tempered.  That’s right: a leprechaun.

Food, Friends, Fun, Humor, Husband

Come Together

“Video games are bad for you?  That’s what they said about Rock’n’Roll.”
– Shigeru Miyamoto

Last Friday, J. and I headed north to the city to play with Angel and her husband Hotty.  Both of the men lived/worked in Korea at some point and converted their respective wives to the cuisine so we went to Angel’s favorite restaurant, got ice cream, and retired to their basement flat to play Rock Band.

In retrospect, I think I liked him because he was (also) touchy about his height.

Growing up we didn’t have gaming systems and to this day they remain verboten at Chez Parents, so I have never developed the necessary finger-eye coordination and thumb dexterity required by video games.  My gaming experience was limited to watching Peregrine playing Final Fantasy back in the day, and trying Spyro The Dragon (exactly two times) while babysitting.  And since I didn’t know what the point of the game was or how to achieve it, I mostly just scampered around whatever level I was on blowing fire and falling off things into oblivion while evil signs flashed “GAME OVER,” or something of the sort.

Pictured: Angel, Hotty, C. (with mustache), and J.

So, Beatles Rock Band went about as I expected.  They started me on the drums which was manageable on the easiest level, but still confusing as I couldn’t get the timing of my whacks on the drum set vs. the scrolling instructions right until J. told me to ignore it and go along with the beat instead (oOOOoohhhh.  Rhythm.  Right). 

At some point I graduated to guitar and luckily we set it to “impossible to fail” because I proceeded to slaughter the music.  Then I got really ambitious and went from “Easy” to “Medium” and discovered my lack of hand-eye coordination is not just limited to sports.  And I must be mildly dyslexic because for the life of me I couldn’t manage to match my fingers with their assigned keys, much less with the dots of color that wouldn’t stop rolling towards me.  And chords!  Impossible!

I think I’ll be settling back into video game retirement now, thanks.

Humor, Life, Weekend, Work

Beware the Ides of Monday

“Julius Caesar was killed for one reason,
the Senators decided to accuse him of treason,
the day was the Ides and March was the season,
he wanted to be king, they wanted his head.”
– stanza of a poem I wrote ten years ago.  Won me a school competition.

Monday feels a bit, appropriately, like this today:

Ouch!

 

Editor's Note: If only all brutal monday mornings were accompanied by a young Marlon Brando.
Drama, Family, Humor, Money, Office, University, Work

Wealth And Consequence

“Not for all the money in the world would I let any children of mine develop into Pendletons!”
– Jean Webster, Daddy-Long-Legs

Dear un-named child of an extremely generous university alumni: I am very grateful for your father’s contributions and service.  I am sure that the whole school thanks him for his patronage.  You, on the other hand, are not your father and are not entitled to his privileges.  He has given us a lifetime of service and hard work, you have give us a series of debilitating migraines because of your rude, unbelievable behavior.  I do not care how much money another person has donated, you are an insufferable ass and no amount of money will make you less responsible for your actions.

Wealth doth not a gentleman make.

I got home yesterday absolutely burning with rage after dealing with this boy. 
“If,” I snarled at J., “we ever become as successful as we hope, we are donating everything to PBS and cancer research.  I’ll be damned before I see any of our family act like that!  The things I wish I could have said!”
“You don’t have to take apart every jerk that you deal with you know.”
“But I want to.  It would make the world a better place!”

If I be waspish best beware my sting!

I come from some WASP stock myself, but if I ever behaved the way this kid does, my parents would gleefully disown me!