Gau's Incredible Bus Ride and the Idiot Squad
A Wednesday morning and the incredible wait for the bus. I've been waiting at this stop for the last twenty five minutes and I feel an overwhelming sense of frustration. That, I'm being framed to qualify for this meaty position at the top of the heap of the Idiot's Guild of the World. And 'Long, Grammatically Incorrect Sentences Academy.' To qualify, all I need to do is stand around like this for another fifteen minutes and a search party will track me down with the expert assistance of a toilet snake and a renegade milkman.
Yes, I am blogging from a bus stop, furiously moving my stylus over my pocket PC with my raspberry out while other passengers waiting around are giving me the evil eye. Utter contempt. "Humph! Asshole! Show Off! Twit!" would be varities of words chosen to pick yours truly. Truth be known, I don't care! Fuck y'all! It don mattuh whu de playah! It mattuh who de human nipple!! I know for a fact that if I don't get to work on time, I will be sacrificed in a ritualistic ceremony, complete with a mojo and a provocative dance sequence inspired by mating primates. Ah, at last. Here come de bus, playah! Far ...out!!!
30 minutes later...
Glory be to the Lord of the Rings! I'm in the office, finally! Although the lady that drove me to work was the kind that would strike fear in the hearts of the bravest of middle aged warriors. I handed her the transfer with a "How ya doin'?" tip of me hat, followed by a "thank you, you're very kind" tip of me head. Her left cheek flinched like bovine skin as if to dust off a fly, while beads of sweat trickled down her nostrils, the size of genetically engineered donuts (Winchell's crossed with Michelin in some remote science lab). I tiptoed into the back of the bus before she breathed fire and turned me into human toast.
You'll be wondering what am I doing , typing my blog, when I'm supposed to be busy at work? Patience, my overanxious apple of the Partridge family eye. My workstation's grunting furiously at a render which gives me enough time to chew cud on this 2.8 giga'hurtz' baby and spit the nuts out in the most charismatic manner. But it's still crazy as hell in here! To add chaos to the commotion, Alex is mastering his cartwheels to his favorite playlist. Music from and inspired by the movie 'Gut Wagon Buzzards in Heat.' I don't have a clue from which desolate music store he picks up those infernal CDs. Most of the time it feels like his corner of the office is a dark cloister with huge groin buttresses complete with cobwebs, large gargoyles and eerie stained glass motifs. Somewhere in this dark bowel of belly-hell, he sits, sipping squirrel blood from a goblet sculpted out of a single piece of earwax. Fucking Alex! Bah!!
The rest of the day will be the equivalent of the peak hour (repeated back to back, eight consecutive times) on a Saturday evening at the Moscow Circus. I will be the chief clown-in-charge while the other idiots scurry around wild animals (the clients, et al) in an apparent attempt to amuse an audience (more clients, et al) with the iq level of macadamia nuts in a chocolate chip cookie. Well, wish me luck, my good friends...
Yes, I am blogging from a bus stop, furiously moving my stylus over my pocket PC with my raspberry out while other passengers waiting around are giving me the evil eye. Utter contempt. "Humph! Asshole! Show Off! Twit!" would be varities of words chosen to pick yours truly. Truth be known, I don't care! Fuck y'all! It don mattuh whu de playah! It mattuh who de human nipple!! I know for a fact that if I don't get to work on time, I will be sacrificed in a ritualistic ceremony, complete with a mojo and a provocative dance sequence inspired by mating primates. Ah, at last. Here come de bus, playah! Far ...out!!!
30 minutes later...
Glory be to the Lord of the Rings! I'm in the office, finally! Although the lady that drove me to work was the kind that would strike fear in the hearts of the bravest of middle aged warriors. I handed her the transfer with a "How ya doin'?" tip of me hat, followed by a "thank you, you're very kind" tip of me head. Her left cheek flinched like bovine skin as if to dust off a fly, while beads of sweat trickled down her nostrils, the size of genetically engineered donuts (Winchell's crossed with Michelin in some remote science lab). I tiptoed into the back of the bus before she breathed fire and turned me into human toast.
You'll be wondering what am I doing , typing my blog, when I'm supposed to be busy at work? Patience, my overanxious apple of the Partridge family eye. My workstation's grunting furiously at a render which gives me enough time to chew cud on this 2.8 giga'hurtz' baby and spit the nuts out in the most charismatic manner. But it's still crazy as hell in here! To add chaos to the commotion, Alex is mastering his cartwheels to his favorite playlist. Music from and inspired by the movie 'Gut Wagon Buzzards in Heat.' I don't have a clue from which desolate music store he picks up those infernal CDs. Most of the time it feels like his corner of the office is a dark cloister with huge groin buttresses complete with cobwebs, large gargoyles and eerie stained glass motifs. Somewhere in this dark bowel of belly-hell, he sits, sipping squirrel blood from a goblet sculpted out of a single piece of earwax. Fucking Alex! Bah!!
The rest of the day will be the equivalent of the peak hour (repeated back to back, eight consecutive times) on a Saturday evening at the Moscow Circus. I will be the chief clown-in-charge while the other idiots scurry around wild animals (the clients, et al) in an apparent attempt to amuse an audience (more clients, et al) with the iq level of macadamia nuts in a chocolate chip cookie. Well, wish me luck, my good friends...
posted by Shaking Shenoy at 4/27/2005 09:34:00 AM
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