Rant in My Pocket

I am repeatedly inspired to new heights by the searches that bring people to the Zero Unlimited page. The latest? DOOLEYBOPPERS!!!

Which, incidentally, Kevin the loser banned from the workplace back in May. Because he is a jerk. I mean, yes, he probably saved us from future lawsuits (which is indeed his job, it is good to see he is working and not just lounging around in those six-million-dollar shoes of his), but what about the rest of us who know how to keep our dooleyboppers under control???

I ASK YOU!!!

We could all be running around wearing Mistletoe Head Boppers at the Christmas part this year IF IT WASN'T FOR MISTER "YOU CAN'T DO THAT"!!!!

Signed,
The Boss of Your Dooleyboppers
Mr. Paul Freeman

That Gyrobo couldn't be bothered to tag me, so I'm tagging myself.

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence
4. Post the text of it and the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that “cool” or “intellectual” book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag three people

Okay. Here goes. I was hoping my copy of JAWS was still kicking around, but this'll have to do.

To Walk the Night by William Sloane
"But this isn't pitching any hay. What I'm getting at is, do you think Mrs. LeNormand came from a family that was, say, of the proletariat or -- er -- the bourgeois, or is she an out-and-out bloodsucking capitalist?"

"I never thought about it." The question puzzled me, like everything else connected with Selena.

Now, for taggin. I tag Lila Couchon, John the Clog-hater, and Slappy the Dummy. You can hate me for it later.

Also, who hired that jerk Dickie Belcher that keeps leaving obnoxious notes on my desk about tightrope compliance?!

It wasn't me, was it?

I got an e-mail about stackin' the grizzles. It got me to thinking. If you could stack grizzlies like pancakes it would make a pretty big pile. But no matter how much syrup you poured on it, it would still smell like hell and be full of fur.

Is somebody listening to "Rubber Dolly" over and over again somewhere in the basement?!!! I keep hearing it, but I can't figure out where it's coming from.

I've check in my desk drawers, I've looked for speakers hidden in the ceiling lights, and spent about a half hour in the closet at lunchtime with my ear to a cup on the floor.

ARGH!!! I don't care if her mom won't buy her a rubber dolly because she smooched some guy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's very sad. I am the ONLY PERSON who has oompaloompas as one of my interests on my blogger profile. This is odd, because I found all sorts of other things on Blogger about Oompaloompas, which were very informative. Now I feel even closer to my little guys.

For instance: I can tell you that THESE impostors are NOT Oompaloompas no matter how much paper hair they stick under their hats!

Also for instance: Otto has learned as Thing #% Learned While On Sabattical "5. Don't touch the oompaloompas." Apparently they have rabies. I will have to check mine to see if they've had their shots, and keep them away from Otto's oompaloompas at all cost.

This other site wants to know if there are any oompaloompas in here but then everything is in Swedish or something so I don't know what they're going on about.

I did find something about hot oompaloompa dance moves, but it was so cursory and vague it left me wanting.

I also found that Zero Unlimited is not the only office to employ oompaloompas within their hallowed halls.

I wonder how Mr. Wonka is taking it, does he have his panties in a bunch?

Also, some strange people have been dressing their dogs up as Oompaloompas. I gasped and stuffed my wristrest in my mouth to stop the screaming when I stumbled across this site.

Had an interview with that Hutch dude the other day. I'm not sure how he got an appointment, but there he was in my office when I came in from my meeting with the committee. Seemed a pretty game fellow, although he seemed surprised that no one had turkeys on their feet. To humor him, I told him I'd see what we could do about that.

I bet I can at least get folks to wear some Dutch clogs. Even if it's just on their hands, like these guys.

Well look at that. Another month has flown by on its little pink birdie wings, and left me here laughing. Or sobbing, depending on what is going on. I feel that as your boss, it is my duty to at least some of the time to (pretend to) be accountable for my actions.

Thusly:

I didn't do any vocabulary on Monday because some evil minded person or persons, having wantonly injured most of the gnomes that have been lately set out in and as an ornament to my office, by putting frosting on them, caused me great distress, at which point I was very busy telling Ms. Geraghty how to make WANTED posters which would offer a reward of twenty dollars and a sack of cheese to any person who will discover and bring to conviction the perpetrators of so vile an act by my order.

Later it turned out I only had a sack of cheese, as my twenty had gone missing overnight during sometime I spent at Shooters with Lenny, so it's just as well no one came forward, even though it ticks me off to no end that my oompa loompas had to waste hours of their valuable time cleaning off the gnomes noses and knees with toothbrushes and chamois cloths.

Last week was taken up by avoiding preparations for the Employee Barbecue with the exception of the bacon and sausage which I was all over.

The week before was a good one, I don't remember much of it. However the sack of cheese did materialize at about that time.

The week before that was spent drinking jug after jub of soda and then shoving tubes of mentos down our throats. Lenny and I were trying to figure out if that thing about exploding was real. There was this hot chick juggling her innards all about in that video after she did it and then she blew up all over the camera. Lenny thinks it was fake but you will notice he went along with it and was in fact the first test subject in our experiments after Stanley got away from us even with the hose that was tying him to the dolley.

So I've been kind of busy.

More vocabulary soon!!!! I promise, really.

Yours truly,
Mr. Paul Freeman, CEO
Zero Unlimited

This confuses me. Please, a bat upside the head would be a mercy.

Tottie toot to you too. Please explain to me why there are birds outside freaking out and tweeting at almost midnight?!!! Freaks.

Dear brethren -- we have a particularly beatific word today.

beamy-- adj. 1. Emitting beams of light, radiant; (1582 BENTLEY Mon. Matrones 104 The beamie Sun large light doth giue.; 1813 SHELLEY Q. Mab ix. (1853) 49 Bending her beamy eyes in thankfulness.)
b. transf. Radiated, umbellate. Obs. rare. (1562 TURNER Herbal II. 79b, The wilde carot hathe..a spoky or beamy top lyke vnto dill.)
2. Massive as a (weaver's) beam; (1809 HEBER Palestine 351 Lords of the biting axe and beamy spear.)
3. Possessing full-grown horns; antlered. (1697 DRYDEN Virg. Georg. III. 625 Thou mayst..beamy Stags in Toils engage.)

Example: I am unsure whether I would rather be beamy (Ah! Forsooth he is beamy, and I must don sunglasses when looking at his radiant self!), beamy (Lordy, his hair is beamy as a wild carrot's!), beamy (Beware his beamy spear, it will a-thwock you in the gizzard betimely), or beamy (Avast, his beamy head will poke you in the rump if you loiter too long about ye olde water cooler!).

We will be taking a poll.