Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.

5.12.2005

Gah.

Still no news.

Also. On behalf of the people in this county who aren't absolute fucking nitwits, I'd like to apologize to the folks in Washington DC. Jakey and Obadiah over at the Smoketown Airport don't truck much with them thar fancy "Instruments" in flyin' mo-sheens. That's why they didn't bat an eye at 2 guys headin' out in a cessna with a Rand McNally atlas and a ruler. Jakey and Obadiah haven't been out of the county, 'cept in a horse and buggy, and had no idea where them two fellers was takin' the mo-sheen to.

Sheesh.

Also, I love the fact that they didn't interrupt King George's bike ride. Probably, they knew he either:
A. Couldn't hear them anyway, over the noise from the playing cards in his spokes.
B. Would be startled by the loud noise, and fall over, training wheels or no.

Lovely.

Also, a little somethin' for my crazy bosslady.



Dear Bosslady,

When you told me last week, that you'd send me a Founder's Message to edit, I believed you. I even believed you the week before. By today, I stopped believing that line of crap. Here are a few other lines I also refuse to believe.

1. That you "woke Stoltzfus up at 9:00" and are "going over to work on the Save the Date cards right now".

Nope, sorry. You may have awakened him, but you most certainly didn't head straight over to his house to work on the cards, which must be at the printer tomorrow, which you have known needed to be finished for months. How do I know this? Because when I finally spoke with him at 2:00, he hadn't seen you.

2. That you are going to come up to the office tomorrow at 1:00.

Bullshit. Just like you've been saying you'll come to the office every day so far this week. The only difference now is that if you don't show up tomorrow, I'm going to your house, and I am not leaving until you pay me for last week's work, the items I bought for the office with personal funds, and this week's work. After that, I will change my phone number. Because, No.

3. That you have volunteers ready/interested in working in the office.

Sure. Just like you had a business plan, and were working on a board of directors ready at my interview. Just like I was getting health insurance after 90 days.

Also, calling me at 2:30, to tell me that "this distance is going to be the death of me" isn't endearing. That would be why I laughed at youm then said "I know. It's just as far for me to get here, and it's a colossal pain in the ass." I know it was a free office space, but let's be honest with ourselves, shall we? You couldn't be bothered to lift a finger/give me information/do what you promised when you were working 100 feet from my office. Did you really think you'd drive 25 miles? (only 15 for me, but it takes me just as long. Go figure.)

Good luck with those "volunteers". I've got my shit out of the office, and probably won't be back after I get my paycheck (and you bet your ass I'm cashing it immediately, lest she put a stop payment on it or something stupid). The manual's on my desk. If you can make out the big words I used, have at it.

For the love of the tasty baby jeebus, just pay me-
Sauce

1 Comments:

Blogger Pope Lizbet said...

Saucey, my upstairs neighbor is a boxer...need her taken out?

6:34 PM  

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