BigChiefBanos

...I remember when I was young, I had myself convinced that I could walk between the raindrops. Well, not so much convinved as I wasn't that messed up, but I told myself I could. And damn if it didn't seem like I stayed dryer... I had to walk a little funny, kinda swaying back and forth to avoid the drops or something... but when you think about it, there really is a lot of space between the drops... It ain't like one solid sheet of water... bunch of little individual drops, here and there... they don't HAVE to be right where you are standing...
Now a days I like to have a little fun with it and pretend I am in the Matrix... shit falling at me in slow motion and I am soooo zen I can see them coming and get out of the way if I want to... but I don't need too, you know, cause I can bend and manipulate the raindrops to my will...
Dude... maybe I am like the Rain Buddha, but just don't realize it yet... at one with the wetness... totally aware of the moisture... I could sit under my umbrella and it would be my Bodhi Tree ...
Accept the rain, feel the rain... be the rain...

OK, so I was on the bug yesterday, as it my want, and I had to sit near the Sausage again. He was sleeping. He is growing out his hair (still) and looks quite like a Chia Pet...
Anywho... I was feeling a little queasy for some reason, had a sense of dread... like impending doom... when, out of the corner of my eye I see the Sausage start to move forward, hands heading for his face... suddenly, some sort of explosion came out of his general facial area... and his hands, instead of acting like a shield, they were more like a funnel, some sort of viscious shotgun, apparenlty aimed directly at me...
This gust of wind, it hit me in the side of my face, and I was awash in foul exhaust...
Dammit, he has done this before, you know, coughed or sneezed all over me, and it lingers for days... I can still smell it... my eyes, my eyes feel all sticky, like some sort of film is coating them... I feel all greasy and dirty...
Of course I just sat there, didn't do or say anything... but I am thinking of getting one of those little portable fans, blow it back at him... but what good would that do, eh? He IS the stench... he would probably get some sort of boner (some sort, out of the many possible boners to be had) from the pheromones... Heh, a sausage with a sausage... or something like that...

Do NOT click on THIS LINK!!!

Although, and I mean this completely seriously, the image on the other end is one of the most fabulous things I have ever seen. Completely safe for work... but muy peligroso!!!

OK, click on THIS ONE... not nearly as good, but this is what the lo-fi version looks like.

First off... check this out: http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/. Type your last name in and it gives you all sorts of funky data...

Anywho... I went in to get some coffee in the lunch room (we get free coffee, for rizzle) and there was this big ol' cart full of coffee supplies and stuff. Stuff like Coffee, cups, sugar, etc... Then this dude come walkin in dragging to big boxes of them styrofoam cups, draggin' it like he was questioning his career choice. I was all like, DAMN... how the hell do you end up with a job like that, going around to different companies and cleaning up their coffee area... how depressing. Imagine going from place to place and seeing a sign saying "your mother does not work here, please clean up after yourself" with some sort of witty "yo' momma" note scratched on it... over and over...
I had these thoughts 'cause every once in a while I see some suit from upstairs or some dude in a BMW or something and feel like maybe I don't have the greatest job in the world... and I imagine them thinking, damn, I am glad I don't have to do what HE is doing...
Where am I going with this??? Uhh... something about a pecking order, a hierchy of job preferences... fear... thats it... like I could end up down there instead of up there...
I remember something or other, about this job I had once... Thought I was applying for a job in a mailroom... thought, how romantic is that... shoving letters into boxes and delivering packages, schmoozing with secretaries... I knew there was something up at the interview... there were a couple scrubs there waiting to be interviewed, freaky looking dudes, then they interviewed us all at the same time. They asked a single question then we each had to answer it... I was like WTF... then we had to take a test to see if we knew the proper order the alphabet was supposed to be in... maybe something like #'s too... and I think there may have been a typing test where you had to type more than 12 words a minute or something...
Anyhow, I got the job... started the next day, just like that... turns out it was like a mass mailing center... stuffing hundreds of envelopes every day, folding cellphone bills, sorting letters and putting them in bins... paid like minimum wage, too... and the TEMPS... Damn the TEMPS... DAMN THEM TO HELL... It seemed that in order to temp there you had to be missing multiple fingers, maybe a foot or something... no drooling, that was not allowed, might stain the letters, but everything else was allowed...
Shoot... lost my flow... anyhow, to quote SJB... "You have seen more of me than I will ever see of myself, I hope you are not as offended as I am..."