Rant in My Pocket

...how many hits I could get if I started making entries like "I want hot lovin" or "my asparagus is all wobbly". Maybe some "I sat on a whoopie cushion while telling Barbra Streisand about my elf-related fantasies" might get things cooking.

Consider this:
An elf can fit into places you can't, you mountain of human blubber, you.

Sincerely,
Mr. F
(elf sex)

In other news, I just put my tie through the shredder.

Luckily (or so my head tells me), during the struggle the motor burned out.

I'm sure Ms. Couchon thought that all the noises were perfectly normal, including but not limited to:
shrieking
kicking of the wall
froth being emitted from between clenched teeth
coffee cups gone a-kilter off the desk and smashing on the floor
the rather large combo dry-erase/bulletin board toppling off the wall and crashing onto my head (this was about the same point that the motor started smoking).

To her credit, she did come check in on me when she smelled the smoke.

I must say, a tie is DEFINITELY the wrong thing to shred.

Mr. F

controversy -- n. The action of disputing or contending one with another; dispute, debate, contention. a. as to rights, claims, and the like.

Example: While I try to avoid controversy in my everyday life, I often find myself mired in it at work.

I blame this on the disputatious and contentious nature of my employees. I myself am quite a liberal guy, overall, I think.

Signed,
The Loquacious F-Man
wishing he still had a tan

information fatigue -- n. Apathy, indifference, or mental exhaustion arising from exposure to too much information, esp. (in later use) stress induced by the attempt to assimilate excessive amounts of information from the media, the Internet, or at work.

Example: I suspect I am suffering from information fatigue, as I can only bring myself to poke at the front section of the newspaper each day, and never actually open it. In fact, this has been going on for weeks now. If Kevin had let me have my rathskellar way back when, this never would have happened.

If you hear the sound of weeping and wailing and the gnashing of teeth coming from my office, don't be surprised. Sausages, of course, would be appreciated.

Dear Minions:
I have returned from the palmy wilds of Florida. Actually, it wasn't that wild, because I was in Orlando, except perhaps the field trips to each of the Hooters in town. They have like 6 of them. Or maybe it was 7. I lost count. So did Lenny.

What I didn't know is that they run their own airline now. Hooters Air. I am serious. Not usually, but right now I am. I am still whacking my desk over missing THAT opportunity.

Anyways, I'm back. And I'm tan. And I have lizards. Tiny lizards. No alligators though, sorry. Too hard to pack.

As ever,
The Boss