Damn, I crack myself up with shit. Here are a few things I've written, some funny, some bitter.
August 2004
Aberdeen, Scotland
In other news, here in Aberdeen a woman slept with her adult son.
Apparently he'd had a bad asthma attack, and as she was rubbing his
back and calming him down, "It just turned into something else."
Now, I ask you, sleeping with your ::shudder:: Mom is bad enough, but damn, how the hell did people find out?!
Son's friend: "Hey, I heard you slept with yer ma!"
Son: "Aye, and she was shite!"
During the court case Mom was heard to have said,"Aye, we're still living together, but not as partners."
Something to keep in mind:
Oct. 27, 2004
Buying bags of candy the week before Halloween was an incredibly bad idea.
Dear Customer...
Jan 23, 2005
Customer, holding a 46X72 curtain in its package: My window is 94 inches wide, will this cutain fit?
Oro: No, you need a 72 or 90 inch curtain.
Customer: But my window is 94 inches, 90 won't do.
Oro: It's 90 inches per curtain, so it'll be a total of 180 inches. The one you're holding will only make 92 inches.
Customer: Well, it's only two inches, that'll be big enough.
* * * * * *
Customer, with 90X90 package of curtains in hand: Hi,
um, I have a window that's 46 inches wide, but I want to cover the
entire wall with this curtain. Can you tell me if it will fit?
Oro: How wide is your wall?
Customer: I don't know.
Oro: Oh, I can't tell you if it'll fit or not without the measurements of the wall.
Customer: Why not?
Oro, trying not to smile: ...Because I've never been to your house?
Customer's husband: Oh, yeah...
Customer: So you mean we'll have to go back and measure? For fuck's sake...
And I quote:
April 1, 2005
I bought The Enemy the other day, and came across this amazing passage:
I'm French," she said. "You're American. There's a world of
difference. An American gets sick, she's outraged. How dare that
happen to her? She must have the fault corrected immediately, at
once. But French people understand that first you live, and then you
die. It's not an outrage. It's something that's been happening since
the dawn of time. Ot jas to happen, don't you see?"
And then this, a few paragraphs later:
"I understand," she said. "Truly, I do. I asked myself the same questions. It's like walking out of a movie. Being made to walk out of a movie that you're really enjoying."
p. 122-123, The Enemy. Child, Lee. Bantam. 2005.
April 6, 2005
'In the course of an evening, a night and the
following morning, perhaps a half-dozen words
exchanged between them. And, she suspected, the
forging of a vast, depthless friendship. These
were the mysteries of men, so baffling to women.
Where silences could become a conjoining of
paths. Where a handful of inconsequential words
could bind spirits in an ineffable understanding.
Forces at play that she could sense, indeed witness,
yet ever remaining outside them. Baffled and
frustrated and half-disbelieving.
Words knit the skein between and among women.
And the language of gesture and expression, all
merging to fashion a tapestry that, as every woman
understood, could tear in but one direction, by
deliberate, vicious effort. A friendship among
women knew but one enemy, and that was malice.
Thus, the more words, the tighter the weave.
Seren Pedac had lived most of her life in the
company of men, and now, on her rare visits to
her home in Letheras, she was viewed by women who
knew her with unease. As if her choice had made
her wholely uncertain, cause for suspicion. And
she had found an unwelcome awkwardness in herself
when in their company. They wove from different
threads, on different frames, discordant with
her own rhythms. She felt clumsy and coarse among
them, trapped by her own silences.
To which she answered with flight, away from the city,
from her past. From women.
Yet, in the briefest of moment, in a meeting of
two men with their almost indifferent exchange of
greetings, she was knocked a step back - almost
physically - and shut out. Here, sharing this ground,
this trail with its rocks and trees, yet in another
world.
Too easy to conclude, with a private sneer, that
men were simple. Granted, had they been strangers,
they might well be circling and sniffing each other's
anuses right now. Inviting conclusions that swept
aside all notions of complexity, in their place
a host of comforting generalizations. But the
meeting of two men who were friends destroyed such
generalizations and challenged the contempt that
went with them, invariably leading a woman to anger.
And the strange, malicious desire to step between them.
On a cobbled beach, a man looks down and sees one
rock, then another and another. A woman looks down
and sees...rocks. But perhaps even this is simplistic.
Man as singular and women as plural. More likely we
are bits of both, some of one in the other.
We just don't like admitting it.'
p.144-145. Midnight Tides. Erikson, Steven. Bantam 2005
June 2005
The Lonely Dead (US title The Upright Man):
There's
nothing like the waiting room of any office of government or its allies
to remind you how lucky you are. You enter a non-place, non-time. You
sit on battered chairs in murky blues and greens that nobody ever names
as their favourite color. You stare at signs that have no bearing on
you, non-specific communiques from the land that punctuation forgot.
You wait until the waiting loses all sense of direction or purpose,
until you become like a stone deposited on a field millenia ago by a
careless glacier. You are here. This is all you have ever known. In
the meantime you are stripped of any sense of individuality, of the
idea that you might be different from anyone else in the room except by
virtue of your particular problem; and so you become that problem,
defensively, accepting it as identity, until swells and suppurates and
becomes all you are. As a species we'll tolerate being close to
others, but not so close, and not in those circumstances and when we
feel so small: we become rows of dry, fretting eyes, hating everyone
around us and sincerely wishing our neighbor dead so we can move up one
place in the line.
Or maybe that's just me. p.88-89. Marshall, Michael, The Lonely Dead (he also writes under Michael Marshall Smith)
When honesty sucks:
May 2005
Is that phone call about someone dying?
Is someone breaking in to the house?
Why won't my neighbor's dogs stop howling?
Why do the birds have to get up so damned early?
What the hell was that dream about?
Did I just pee?
Which is why I found myself in the shower at 6:34 this morning.
I sincerely hope this is not a sign of my future. Because, people. I don't care that there are Depends, I am way the fuck too young to be using them, capice?
And really, there's nothing so sexy as your husband stumbling into
the office while you're playing a video game and asking, 'Did I wet the
bed?', and then having to admit that no, it wasn't him.
I'm just sayin'.
And in Medical News:
Oct 20, 2004
The gynecologist my friend OG
saw about her 'sex is so painful it makes me cry' visit told her that
the optimum time for getting pregnant was 5 days before and 5 days
after her period.
Oh course, she also told OG that OG was lucky her boyfriend hadn't left her, after so many months without sex.
I'm guessing she got her medical degree from a bag of chips.
June 2005
Hey, Endoteers, did you know that the cause of Endometriosis is red meat?
No?
Cuz, according to Bella magazine (women's 'lifestyle/true life' rag
in the UK), eating too much red meat is one of the prime factors.
And, apparently, you can cut your risk by eating more fruit.
Simple!
I don't know why you all don't pass this important information on to other women. Hmph.
Also, the key to finding a husband and having children is to lose weight.
Who knew?
Things I've done at work besides help customers:
January 2006
Without measurements
I can't help fit your curtains
Ugly curtains, too
~*~
Dear customer go
to hell, your screaming toddler
too, you po-faced cow
~*~
Work - four letter word
so simple to say, and yet
money is needed
~*~
Babies scream; me too
suffering without the words
to say, Please fuck off
~*~
Guess what; I hate you
For this I went to college?
Minimum wage sucks
~*~
This job, how I hate
it, the monstrosity breaks
my soul triplicate
~*~
When dying inside
approach colleagues cautiously
danger lurks therein
~*~
Time for the linky links:
Turn up the volume on this worksafe bit o' wonder and watch someone drive their neighbors bat-shit crazy during Christmas. (internets, it's totally awesome)
Ever wondered what Science Fiction and Fantasy fans do at those conventions? Here's my Worldcon 2005 report.
Wow, that a heck of a lot f fun. I am so freakin' glad I no longer work at StoreX. Although it was great blog fodder, it has to be said...
Oro, working through 2006
Recent Comments