I cannot flirt to save my life. As it goes, I spend the majority of my life around people I am interested in trying to make sure that I don't come off creepy and insane; there is no time available to flirt. Plus, whenever I do try, it comes off as horrible and fake, like a socially inept 14 year old girl trying to talk to her senior crush in front of his locker.
Ahem. What I'm saying is, I'm a little awkward in the real world. As you may know.
------------------------------
So yesterday I got home from work and went to check my mail before hitting the apartment, as is my way. On the approach to the mailbox, I happen by this cute guy who is walking his ginormously-even-cuter dog. (Thing the First that you should know about me - a guy with a cute dog is instantly 50 time more attractive to me than one without. I am weak like that.) The dog proceeds to try to eat my face with the power of friendship and dog slobber, and thus we are forced into at least polite conversation.
As I continue on my way, now weighing at least 5 additional pounds from all the saliva, we engage in what I come to suspect is actually flirting. I mean, I've never actually worked it out firsthand, but I imagine this interaction is what flirting would feel like. There is banter, and mild entendre, and more than necessary eye contact, and smiling.
I can dig it.
I get to the mailbox, pop in the key, and yank out all the mail. Which on this day consists of exactly one item: The Victoria's Secret Valentines Catalogue. (Disclosure: it is addressed to LaSister, who used to live with me, but had yet to have her mail forwarded.) As one would expect, this item is huge, pink, and features a mostly naked woman on the cover.
Now, like I said, I don't have a lot of firsthand knowledge of flirting, but I'm pretty sure nothing in the world can kill off some innocuous homosexual flirting like the sudden appearance of the Victoria's Secret catalogue in one of the banterer's hands. Cute Guy and his Cute Dog were gone in one of those cartoon-like puffs of smoke and I was left standing out in the park next to my apartment wondering exactly when God decided he hated me.
"It's...uh...not mine?"
Friday, February 17, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Two More Reasons To Be Scared of Google Users
I've been getting a whole bunch more hits than usual up in this place ("Hi new people!") because I got trawled by the unstoppable assimilation machine that is the Google engine recently.
Thus I present to you the two most disturbing ways that people have reached my site in the past 48 hours:
Search for : "Jason Frank Predator"
That's just a little too specific to suit my tastes. It has a very National Geographic feel to it - "While Jason and Frank enjoy their leisure time watching movies and making fun of each other, little do they know that their one natural predator waits in the shadows, biding his time."
AND
Search for : "songs related to "the lug wrench""
Okay, this is less disturbing and more funny, but note how "the lug wrench" is in quotes; we're very specific in what sort of songs we want to relate to. I also love how popping that into Google gives you me, followed by a wikipedia recap of a particularly gripping episode of The Incredible Hulk - wherein there is a injury that may or may not be lug wrench related.
------------------------
And in other non-surprising news, I don't have a damn thing to talk about today.
See ya.
Thus I present to you the two most disturbing ways that people have reached my site in the past 48 hours:
Search for : "Jason Frank Predator"
That's just a little too specific to suit my tastes. It has a very National Geographic feel to it - "While Jason and Frank enjoy their leisure time watching movies and making fun of each other, little do they know that their one natural predator waits in the shadows, biding his time."
AND
Search for : "songs related to "the lug wrench""
Okay, this is less disturbing and more funny, but note how "the lug wrench" is in quotes; we're very specific in what sort of songs we want to relate to. I also love how popping that into Google gives you me, followed by a wikipedia recap of a particularly gripping episode of The Incredible Hulk - wherein there is a injury that may or may not be lug wrench related.
------------------------
And in other non-surprising news, I don't have a damn thing to talk about today.
See ya.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
The Secret Arts of Targeting
Now I have had my share of bad jobs. I've worked carnival slides in 110 degree weather, I've served beer at concerts while standing in two feet of backed-up stadium water. I've guarded fashion shows and rode herd on a pack of horny 16 year-old boys at a summer camp.
But there is a level of disconnect to all of these things where you're allowed to laugh at the sheer absurdity of your required performance every once in a while. After the reigning Miss USA insults you to your face and then proceeds to get trapped in the cordon maze at the entrance to the fashion show, it's almost expected that you turn to the other guard, roll your eyes, and have a little snicker at her expense. When a counselor-in-training climbs into the rafters of your cabin and falls onto a bed, snapping the legs off it, it's okay to ask him if he recently donated his brain to science (dumbass) and then go out and play frisbee for an hour or so.
So I cannot say with any real level of empathy that I know what the cashiers at Target go through on Valentines Day. But I feel their pain on a very visceral level. Because you're right out there in the open at all times and you've got to maintain that efficient, friendly facade no matter what. There is no letting the customer see your reaction to the things they purchase. I don't know that I could handle not passing judgment on the customers that came through my line.
This leads to:
Yesterday after work, I stopped by Target to get my anti-Valentine's Day setup. I get in line and drop on to the conveyor belt: 1) really cheap bottle of white wine, 2) extra large family size tube of chocolate chip cookie dough, and 3) movie theatre size box of Goobers (I was denied my box set of Grey's Anatomy (sold out), which is the saddest part of this entire story). Which is a little embarrassing, but hey, I've got no shame.
However, there are also two guys in front of me in line. Guy A has: 1) bottle of red wine, 2)bouquet of roses, 3) little box of chocolates, and 4) seriously, the largest box of condoms I have ever seen in my life. Guy B, directly behind him has: 1) two bottles wine, one white and one red, 2) gigantic box of chocolates, 3) bottle of KY *ahem* personal lubricant and massage oil, and 4) box set of the first season of Queer as Folk(US).
How on Earth does a cashier go through all three of those customers and not spontaneously combust from holding in the laughter?
Kudos to you, Mr. Target cashier - you're a bigger man than I. (Because apparently I have the mentality of a 13 year-old.)
But there is a level of disconnect to all of these things where you're allowed to laugh at the sheer absurdity of your required performance every once in a while. After the reigning Miss USA insults you to your face and then proceeds to get trapped in the cordon maze at the entrance to the fashion show, it's almost expected that you turn to the other guard, roll your eyes, and have a little snicker at her expense. When a counselor-in-training climbs into the rafters of your cabin and falls onto a bed, snapping the legs off it, it's okay to ask him if he recently donated his brain to science (dumbass) and then go out and play frisbee for an hour or so.
So I cannot say with any real level of empathy that I know what the cashiers at Target go through on Valentines Day. But I feel their pain on a very visceral level. Because you're right out there in the open at all times and you've got to maintain that efficient, friendly facade no matter what. There is no letting the customer see your reaction to the things they purchase. I don't know that I could handle not passing judgment on the customers that came through my line.
This leads to:
Yesterday after work, I stopped by Target to get my anti-Valentine's Day setup. I get in line and drop on to the conveyor belt: 1) really cheap bottle of white wine, 2) extra large family size tube of chocolate chip cookie dough, and 3) movie theatre size box of Goobers (I was denied my box set of Grey's Anatomy (sold out), which is the saddest part of this entire story). Which is a little embarrassing, but hey, I've got no shame.
However, there are also two guys in front of me in line. Guy A has: 1) bottle of red wine, 2)bouquet of roses, 3) little box of chocolates, and 4) seriously, the largest box of condoms I have ever seen in my life. Guy B, directly behind him has: 1) two bottles wine, one white and one red, 2) gigantic box of chocolates, 3) bottle of KY *ahem* personal lubricant and massage oil, and 4) box set of the first season of Queer as Folk(US).
How on Earth does a cashier go through all three of those customers and not spontaneously combust from holding in the laughter?
Kudos to you, Mr. Target cashier - you're a bigger man than I. (Because apparently I have the mentality of a 13 year-old.)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Valen-whats?
Because I've gone over, in exacting detail previously, how much I hate this "holiday," we're not going to discuss it anymore. I firmly plan on spending my night at home with a bottle of wine and my new copy of the first season of Grey's Anatomy and it's going to be awesome and only a little bit commercial. So there.
----------------------------
Instead, since I forgot to do it earlier, we're going to discuss the Oscars, and how much I love them. I mean, I understand empirically that they're basically worthless and go on forever, but the whole thing is still near and dear to my heart. And this year I was mucho impressed with the nominations, so it's doubly exciting.
Because I am feeling very detailed today, we will go through the whole damnable list:
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Capote"
Terrence Howard in "Hustle & Flow"
Heath Ledger in "Brokeback Mountain"
Joaquin Phoenix in "Walk the Line"
David Strathairn in "Good Night, and Good Luck."
Things you need to know beforehand: 1) I love Brokeback Mountain, 2) I refuse to see Walk The Line, for reasons that can only be called mean spirited, 3) In Cold Blood is a really good book.
Jason's Conclusion: Heath Ledger really needs to win this, but if Hoffman takes it, I won't whine too much. And I don't care how much I like Mssr. Phoenix, I really hope he doesn't come close. Aside: I love that Terrance Howard got nominated, just on principle, and Hustle & Flow is my next rental.
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
George Clooney in "Syriana"
Matt Dillon in "Crash"
Paul Giamatti in "Cinderella Man"
Jake Gyllenhaal in "Brokeback Mountain"
William Hurt in "A History of Violence"
Jason's Conclusion: I'm sorry, but I don't get the Clooney. Can't explain, but yeah no, nothing doing. And I hate Matt Dillon's face. I don't really like Paul Giamatti, but I can appreciate that he's a good actor, and I didn't come anywhere near A History of Violence. I thought Jake was very, very good and underrated in BM, so I hope he wins. But barring that (because...come on), I think Giamatti should get it.
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Judi Dench in "Mrs. Henderson Presents"
Felicity Huffman in "Transamerica"
Keira Knightley in "Pride & Prejudice"
Charlize Theron in "North Country"
Reese Witherspoon in "Walk the Line"
Jason's Conclusion: (Before anything else: I cannot believe that Gwyneth Paltrow did not get nominated for Proof. Easily the best bit of acting I saw all year, and...nothing. At any awards ceremony. She should fire her agent-type person. Anyways.) It finally comes down to it, a category wherein I haven't seen any of the movies nominated. Yes, I know, my reviewing card should be revoked. But that doesn't stop me from having an opinion. And it is - I love me some Reese Witherspoon and I love me some Keira Knightley, but again I'm anti-Walk the Line, so I root for Keira. Although if Reese wins, I will still feel a warm glow. Oh, and Felicity Huffman rules my TV world (do you people remember Sports Night? God, I loved that show.) but not my movie world. If she wins, that's cool too, though. I cannot lose in this round.
----------------------------
Instead, since I forgot to do it earlier, we're going to discuss the Oscars, and how much I love them. I mean, I understand empirically that they're basically worthless and go on forever, but the whole thing is still near and dear to my heart. And this year I was mucho impressed with the nominations, so it's doubly exciting.
Because I am feeling very detailed today, we will go through the whole damnable list:
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Capote"
Terrence Howard in "Hustle & Flow"
Heath Ledger in "Brokeback Mountain"
Joaquin Phoenix in "Walk the Line"
David Strathairn in "Good Night, and Good Luck."
Things you need to know beforehand: 1) I love Brokeback Mountain, 2) I refuse to see Walk The Line, for reasons that can only be called mean spirited, 3) In Cold Blood is a really good book.
Jason's Conclusion: Heath Ledger really needs to win this, but if Hoffman takes it, I won't whine too much. And I don't care how much I like Mssr. Phoenix, I really hope he doesn't come close. Aside: I love that Terrance Howard got nominated, just on principle, and Hustle & Flow is my next rental.
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
George Clooney in "Syriana"
Matt Dillon in "Crash"
Paul Giamatti in "Cinderella Man"
Jake Gyllenhaal in "Brokeback Mountain"
William Hurt in "A History of Violence"
Jason's Conclusion: I'm sorry, but I don't get the Clooney. Can't explain, but yeah no, nothing doing. And I hate Matt Dillon's face. I don't really like Paul Giamatti, but I can appreciate that he's a good actor, and I didn't come anywhere near A History of Violence. I thought Jake was very, very good and underrated in BM, so I hope he wins. But barring that (because...come on), I think Giamatti should get it.
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Judi Dench in "Mrs. Henderson Presents"
Felicity Huffman in "Transamerica"
Keira Knightley in "Pride & Prejudice"
Charlize Theron in "North Country"
Reese Witherspoon in "Walk the Line"
Jason's Conclusion: (Before anything else: I cannot believe that Gwyneth Paltrow did not get nominated for Proof. Easily the best bit of acting I saw all year, and...nothing. At any awards ceremony. She should fire her agent-type person. Anyways.) It finally comes down to it, a category wherein I haven't seen any of the movies nominated. Yes, I know, my reviewing card should be revoked. But that doesn't stop me from having an opinion. And it is - I love me some Reese Witherspoon and I love me some Keira Knightley, but again I'm anti-Walk the Line, so I root for Keira. Although if Reese wins, I will still feel a warm glow. Oh, and Felicity Huffman rules my TV world (do you people remember Sports Night? God, I loved that show.) but not my movie world. If she wins, that's cool too, though. I cannot lose in this round.
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Amy Adams in "Junebug"
Catherine Keener in "Capote"
Frances McDormand in "North Country"
Rachel Weisz in "The Constant Gardener"
Michelle Williams in "Brokeback Mountain"
Jason's Conclusion: My deepest and darkest secret: I really loved Junebug, to a ridiculous degree. Like, I may like it even more than Brokeback. Seriously. So Amy Adams needs to win this award. Hard. That said, I love every other actress nominated, Constant Gardner was excellent too, and Michelle Williams rocked that role unlike anything else. Really, its another one of those categories that I can't lose in. But yeah, Amy Adams all the way. (Aside that will make no sense to anyone who has not seen the movie: He just wanted to tape the meerkats for her! Oh, Benjamin McKenzie...)
Best animated feature film of the year
"Howl's Moving Castle" Miyazaki
"Tim Burton's Corpse Bride" Tim Burton and Mike Johnson
"Wallace & Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit" Nick Park and Steve Box
Jason's Conclusion: Do we need to go over again how much I loved the Moving Castle? And how much I care that it didn't make a damn bit of sense (answer: none)? Good. So I want it to win. But I watched the Were-Rabbit last night, and it was pretty good, even though moving clay freaks me out. So it'll be okay if that one wins.
Achievement in directing
"Brokeback Mountain" Ang Lee
"Capote" Bennett Miller
"Crash" Paul Haggis
"Good Night, and Good Luck." George Clooney
"Munich" Steven Spielberg
Jason's Conclusion: Ang Lee should have won for Crouching Tiger and he needs to win this time too. Next!
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)
"Brokeback Mountain" Gustavo Santaolalla
"The Constant Gardener" Alberto Iglesias
"Memoirs of a Geisha" John Williams
"Munich" John Williams
"Pride & Prejudice" Dario Marianelli
Jason's Conclusion: I can't believe I typed all that out just to say that I loved the music in The Constant Gardner and I hope it wins. My priorities are misplaced today.
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)
"In the Deep" from "Crash" Lyric by Kathleen "Bird" York
"It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" from "Hustle & Flow" Lyric by Houston et al
"Travelin' Thru" from "Transamerica" Music and Lyric by Dolly Parton
Jason's Conclusion: How do you not vote for Dolly Parton here? I mean, okay, yes it is very cool that a song with the word "Pimp" in the title made it, but we already had the shocking thing when Eminem won all those many years ago. I am very sad that that song from Brokeback Mountain didn't get nominated, though. That was my jam, yo.
Other things that I don't really feel like listing out: Brokeback should win for best adapted screenplay, I liked Match Point enough to root for it for Original Screenplay, and I hope Batman Begins wins whatever the hell it was nominated for, just on principle. Anything else I don't care about, but would like to see King Kong win a bunch of technical stuff just because.
And last and least interesting:
Best motion picture of the year
"Brokeback Mountain"
"Capote"
"Crash"
"Good Night, and Good Luck."
"Munich"
Jason's Conclusion: Brokeback Mountain by a country mile. Reasons herein. "I wish I knew how to quit you, indeed."
Friday, February 10, 2006
Meme Friday
Because I am both very sick and very tired, I'm not posting anything of consequence. What I am doing is a dumb meme, which provides the illusion of content in place of me having to think while my stomach is in a constant state of upheaval.
Four Jobs I've Had
Four Jobs I've Had
- Law Library Shelver - 4 consecutive years
- Carnival Worker - 3 months, sporadically
- Fashion Show Guard - Two, 2 week stints
- Camp El Tesoro Store Manager - One glorious (hideous) summer
- Bring It On - "Follow me or perish, sweater monkeys!"
- The Emperor's New Groove - "Why do we even have that lever?"
- Mean Girls - "That's why her hair is so big, it's full of secrets!"
- Center Stage - "Dance what you feel!"
- Chicago, IL - ages 0 to 1
- Orange, TX - ages 13 - 18
- Dallas, TX - ages 18 - 24
- Homer, TX - ages 7 - 11
- The Office - my new obsession. I love me some Jim.
- Arrested Development - my ire that this show is cancelled knows no bounds
- Grey's Anatomy - Sandra Oh! There needs no more explanation. (But anyways: I *heart* George!)
- Scrubs - "I would never swim in a pond, they are infamous for serpents."
- Galveston - the ugliest beach you ever did see
- Orlando - or wherever the hell Disney World is
- Arkansas Ozarks - my favorite vacation spot
- Austin - you've got to admire their drunken spunk (also: excellent BBQ)
- Monte Cristo Sandwich - deep fried for maximum deliciousness
- Buttermilk Pie - so sweet that it fuses your mouth shut
- Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwiches - contrasting flavors = awesome
- French Toast - the one dish I can make perfectly every time
- Television Without Pity - to fuel my TV obsession through the written word
- Damn Hell Ass Kings - a portal to so much funny
- Penny Arcade - The only webcomic anyone will ever need
- ESPN.com - Look how straight I am
- In my Bed
- In a Bar
- On my couch
- Switzerland
- Frank - even my arch-nemesis needs things to occupy his time
- Erin - obviously
- Devon - because she promised to keep updating to keep me entertained during the day
- Emily - because she needs to post. (guilt-trip!)
Monday, February 06, 2006
Unwanted Musings
I spent the morning really slowly eating a Yoplait Yogurt cup (by dipping the spoon into the yogurt but not actually scooping any of it out, and then carefully licking said spoon clean. Repeat ad inifinium) and pondering exactly how they are able to so accurately recreate the flavors that they offer.
I mean, yes, "Peach Cobbler" and "Key Lime Pie" are beautifully descriptive, in a way that delights the mind with possibilities of flavor, but in my Americanized mind I'm not expecting anything that would actually taste like what's being advertised. Except, it totally does. Peach Cobbler, despite containing nothing but peaches, still manages to have a cobbler-esque taste to it. And I'll be damned if I can't taste some pie-ness inside that Key Lime. This is uncharted territory for me and I'm not sure if I can get behind this truth in advertising.
When I was little, I was always enthralled by those 106 color Crayola boxes of crayons. I mean, with that amount of options it's like the world is at your fingertips, just waiting for you to grab the precise color that you need for any occasion. But I was always disappointed in the end result - "Raw Umber" and "Hot Magenta" were entirely superfluous versions of Brown and Red. And then when they added those descriptive names once I hit junior high, I truly became a cynic. "Macaroni and Cheese?" "Razzmatazz?" Yeah, really. No. Tell me another one, corporate America.
Was this going anywhere? I forget.
Anyways, so there was a good thirty to forty-five minutes of my morning, silently debating with myself the merits of flavors that actually were what they claimed to be. Somewhere near the end I decided that this was fine for yogurt, but most definitely needed to stop short of most anything else. In the real world I hate watermelon, but love what candy companies term "watermelon flavor." The same goes for Grape and Cherry. I mean, I love grapes and cherries in their real life manifestations, but would mourn the loss of the artificial versions as if they were my own children.
------------------------------
After I wore out that line of reasoning within my own head, I moved on to other stimuli. I've gotten to a point of almost Zen-like reasoning with my Sudoku.
I mean, yes, "Peach Cobbler" and "Key Lime Pie" are beautifully descriptive, in a way that delights the mind with possibilities of flavor, but in my Americanized mind I'm not expecting anything that would actually taste like what's being advertised. Except, it totally does. Peach Cobbler, despite containing nothing but peaches, still manages to have a cobbler-esque taste to it. And I'll be damned if I can't taste some pie-ness inside that Key Lime. This is uncharted territory for me and I'm not sure if I can get behind this truth in advertising.
When I was little, I was always enthralled by those 106 color Crayola boxes of crayons. I mean, with that amount of options it's like the world is at your fingertips, just waiting for you to grab the precise color that you need for any occasion. But I was always disappointed in the end result - "Raw Umber" and "Hot Magenta" were entirely superfluous versions of Brown and Red. And then when they added those descriptive names once I hit junior high, I truly became a cynic. "Macaroni and Cheese?" "Razzmatazz?" Yeah, really. No. Tell me another one, corporate America.
Was this going anywhere? I forget.
Anyways, so there was a good thirty to forty-five minutes of my morning, silently debating with myself the merits of flavors that actually were what they claimed to be. Somewhere near the end I decided that this was fine for yogurt, but most definitely needed to stop short of most anything else. In the real world I hate watermelon, but love what candy companies term "watermelon flavor." The same goes for Grape and Cherry. I mean, I love grapes and cherries in their real life manifestations, but would mourn the loss of the artificial versions as if they were my own children.
------------------------------
After I wore out that line of reasoning within my own head, I moved on to other stimuli. I've gotten to a point of almost Zen-like reasoning with my Sudoku.
Congratulations! You solved the Sudoku in 9 minutes, 51 seconds!
Hard puzzles
solved:
32
Your average time:
15:42
Your fastest
time:
9:51
I can't quite place what appeals to me so much about ordering these stupid numbers. I mean, it's not even as challenging as, say, a crossword puzzle. It's barely a step up from the games of my past (say, solitaire. Or the dreaded minesweeper). It's essentially just applying basic logic to a tiny set of integers. But there's still a residual thrill I get from forcing a Hard puzzle to my will in under 10 minutes. (For the last 10 games I have abandoned the "How am I doing" button until my Sudoku is complete, deciding that fact checking is for the weak. Yes, I'm aware that I've hit rock bottom in terms of geekdom. It's like declaring that you do crosswords "only in ink." This is what we in the industry refer to as hardcore lame.)
The whole thing puts me in the sort of mindset that I used to have, when I loved math once upon a time. Back when that was my declared major and before differential equations left me actively detesting word problems. Logical underpinnings and things that just suddenly fall into place once the rules are applied appeal to me greatly. Which is saying nothing except that I like it when I have confirmation that my brain hasn't turned completely to a pulpy mush under the combined strain of American Idol and 8 million Blockbuster movies.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Breaking Point
An Open Letter to Anyone Who Has An Office and Children (But more specifically to the one who is located in the office next to mine):
Hi. I see you have an office. That's nice, I have one too. Ah, and I see that you have children. Again, that's nice. I do not have children, as I tend to think of them as a plague on humanity and one of the most unfortunate side-effects of needing to extend the life of our species. But like I say, to each his own - good for you, making a family, furthering your bloodline, etc. I'm sure you're very proud.
The part I take offense with is the fact that you have brought your small child to the office. Now I assume that this child is not some sort of mathematical or business-minded savant and is not acting as your employee. If this is actually the case, then I apologize and leave it to you and the child-labor board to discuss. But as the child is currently banging his head against the wall over and over and over again, I will go on with my assumption that he is not under your employ. And also that he is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you catch my meaning.
So I have to protest this little home-invasion scenario you've got going on here. I'm considerate enough to not bring my crazy roommate up to the office to throw things at me and insult the size of my head, so I would hope you'd show similar consideration in bringing your house to the office. But apparently that ship has sailed.
But really, the main part of my complaint (besides the fact that the repeated banging of his head is against the wall that is 18 inches from my body) is that you thought it wise to accessorize your small child with a one-note recorder, the musical instrument equivalent of an ice-pick to my brain. Because your child, erroneously believing that he has some measure of musical talent, has taken to playing the rhythm from Jingle Bells, over and over and OVER, on just that one note. While banging his head against the wall.
And we are very close to the moment in which I will enact some cubicle justice and snap that recorder in half. Which will probably cause the small child to cry, but let's face it, even incomprehensible wailing would be better than One Note Jingle Bells right now.
So in the future, let's all save each other some serious grief, and leave your family at home to be tended by the TV, like God intended.
Thanks,
Jason
Hi. I see you have an office. That's nice, I have one too. Ah, and I see that you have children. Again, that's nice. I do not have children, as I tend to think of them as a plague on humanity and one of the most unfortunate side-effects of needing to extend the life of our species. But like I say, to each his own - good for you, making a family, furthering your bloodline, etc. I'm sure you're very proud.
The part I take offense with is the fact that you have brought your small child to the office. Now I assume that this child is not some sort of mathematical or business-minded savant and is not acting as your employee. If this is actually the case, then I apologize and leave it to you and the child-labor board to discuss. But as the child is currently banging his head against the wall over and over and over again, I will go on with my assumption that he is not under your employ. And also that he is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you catch my meaning.
So I have to protest this little home-invasion scenario you've got going on here. I'm considerate enough to not bring my crazy roommate up to the office to throw things at me and insult the size of my head, so I would hope you'd show similar consideration in bringing your house to the office. But apparently that ship has sailed.
But really, the main part of my complaint (besides the fact that the repeated banging of his head is against the wall that is 18 inches from my body) is that you thought it wise to accessorize your small child with a one-note recorder, the musical instrument equivalent of an ice-pick to my brain. Because your child, erroneously believing that he has some measure of musical talent, has taken to playing the rhythm from Jingle Bells, over and over and OVER, on just that one note. While banging his head against the wall.
And we are very close to the moment in which I will enact some cubicle justice and snap that recorder in half. Which will probably cause the small child to cry, but let's face it, even incomprehensible wailing would be better than One Note Jingle Bells right now.
So in the future, let's all save each other some serious grief, and leave your family at home to be tended by the TV, like God intended.
Thanks,
Jason
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