The Office

I have been blessed with an office job and what a blessing it is considering I can help myself to complimentary tea and coffee free of charge anytime I want. Booya. If the bland walls and “window view” of the adjacent office building weren’t enough to truly inspire me, I have the joy of listening to other “office-like” conversations. Take today for example, when Herb Hardwick took the time at about 2:34 p.m. to call his wife and inform her that the “guys went out to lunch for Ryan’s birthday.”

In office-like environments, birthdays are a big deal and it is customary to treat the celebrated individual to a lunch of some sort at a cheap, but seemingly expensive place such as a Panera Bread or a Bucca di Beppo. It is at this pathetic location that a co-worker will compensate for the fact that the office gang took you to Panera with a remark such as, “The bread bowls. Now those things are great with soup.”

Today Herb Hardwick, who is located across the hall from me, called his wife to inform her of the birthday lunch. Office conversation between Herb and his wife went something like this.

I had no idea they served steak sandwiches.

They literally must have just added it the menu.

Surprisingly good. Surprisingly good, because they have more steak than bread.

That must be the trick.

Well, I guess we’ve been eating our steak sandwiches at the wrong joint then, haven’t we?

Dead serious. The bread was smaller than the actual steak itself.

I’ll tell ya, I would have thought the other way around, more bread, less steak, but I guess that’s why I’m not in the sandwich business.

Seriously.

I have no idea where they would get this small bread. It’s not normal bread.

They must have connections.

You’re telling me.

Who would have thought?

I salute you Herb Hardwick. We must appreciate the simple things in life, and if that means a steak sandwich for you, then by all means buddy, rave on.

Black Beauty

There is something to be said about an article of clothing whose night like fabric literally inspires, motivates and musters unnecessary emotion. Yes, I am talking about black denim jeans: the world’s definition of black beauty. It's an article of clothing that was most likely conceived on the back of a motorcycle in the midst of some regrettable Sturgis trip. It's tricky and evasive in nature. It is trained to blend in with its surroundings; to appear as dress slacks, but alas no! It's denim.

It is most distinguishable when paired with a pair of bright, white Reeboks, or a cut off tee. Its beauty can only be appreciated against of back drop of pine trees underneath a setting sun. The pockets large enough to hold any essential Swiss army knife or necessary beer cozy; it's zipper remains oiled and attentive in the event of a quick, inappropriate public pee. Going to a funeral? Simply pair with a short sleeve, button down pastel dress shirt. A rock concert? Simply wet with a garden hose to administer the effect of cheap leather. Bow down to the almighty, the trump slacks, God's choice for everyday wear: the black denim jean.

Melanoma

I think every once in a while we hit lows in our lifetime where we are forced to take a step back and evaluate who we are and who we are becoming. The other day I decided to go to a tanning salon. I won't even beat around the bush and give you some lame excuse like "i need a base tan or I burn", I just simply wanted to rid myself of the gift that winter had given me...pale skin. Upon entering the salon I felt like I was at a travel agency because you have to buy things in "packages". This package comes with a month free, that package comes with lotion. I knew that I wasn't going to be in this for the long term, so I chose the smallest package. My only requirement was to buy a bottle of lotion. All right, whatever. That's when the girl turned around holding a bottle in each hand and said, "We have chocolate diamonds or Chocolate sun"
That's when I had an outer body experience...what had my life come to where I was making decisions between two "chocolate" lotions.
Were there real chunks of chocolate in them?
Why does the woman in front of me resemble a carrot?
Why are there playboy stickers in a cute basket?
Why do all the tanning beds resemble space ships?
Why am I here?
I needed to go. I needed to leave and rid myself of the year round bronze promise. Instead of taking the high road and apologizing for wasting her time, I opted for chocolate diamonds and proceeded to "bed 10", where I inevitably after an impressive 4 minutes, got sunburned.

I was thinking about this the other day, and to be honest, I don't know if this was an original thought. At the time I thought it was, however it may have been just stuck in my subconcious from a movie a long time ago.

The other day I was contemplating the idea if, god forbid, I were to lose a limb. Let's say and arm or a leg in some awful accident. I am completely traumatized by the accident and upon arrival at the doctors office I am notified that my arm cannot be put back on and I will have to get a prosthetic. So here comes my thought; what if they only had black prosthetics left? Or what if a black man went in, and god forbid, had lost his leg and they only had a white prosthetic left? I came to the conclusion that it would suck.

There's strong..and then there's army strong

From what I can gather from the commercials....apparently being in the army means
Being deployed to the grand canyon where you will be handed a flag
Your mission is to rock climb at sunset to the top of this cliff
Once you make it to the top, I want you to salute and everyone will notice how cool your shadow looks in the sunset
Too scared to rock climb? No worries, I will put you in a tent with the coolest computers you have ever seen.
Don't like computers? Not a problem. Why don't you just stand there and we will have a beating drum in the background.
Welcome to the army.

Mother of the Year

If you have yet to encounter true "trashiness", then please by all means turn to VH1 ad watch Flavor of Love. When I haven't had my fill of ass or cellulite for the day, I hit up the ladies of Flavor of Love to fulfill my cravings. I'm not a religious viewer, but I recently caught an episode where Bunz confessed that she was a mother. Not a surprise, considering most of the women on the show are mothers to multiple children, but Bunz said this, "I gotta go home. I can't have Flav playin' with me like this. My kids don't have a babysitter and I've gotta get home to them"
What?
You've been on the show for a while now and your kids don't have a babysitter?
Imagine being six years old and having your mom be a Flavor of Love girl. All the sudden you're left to fend for yourself because Mom's gotta go "shake it" for a man whose eligible for the AARP. Needless to say it would be a rough childhood. Kids, this could happen to you. You could be left behind, so I've come up with some simple indications that you should look for when determining if your mom will abandon you for Flav.
1. She refers to her hair as a "weave"
2. She sounds like she has peanut butter in her mouth when she talks
3. When she wants something she strips for it
4. Her ass is the size of a MACK truck

Depend-able

The other day I was sitting in my apartment craving something sweet. Instead of taking advantage of the flour, sugar and eggs that I had, I opted to hit up Walgreens to purchase cookie dough as a result of pure laziness. I have discovered that while waiting in line to check out, I judge people based on their purchases. I was eyeing the purchases of the gentlemen in front of me; aquafresh toothpaste, dawn dishsoap and oh my god, Depends adult diapers? I immediately sized him up and estimated his age to be roughly 60. I suddenly felt awkward that I was behind this man who was clearly having some difficulty with his plumbing when I thought, "Oh my god. There are probably thousands of people, just like this man, walking around in Dpends diapers!" I was shocked. Have you ever been down the Depends aisle? As if your self esteem wasn't already lowered by your need for adult diapers, Walgreens has conveniently placed every other shitty item imaginable in that same aisle. So as you shamefully walk towards the Depends boxes, you find yourself passing the shitty Walgreens socks and 80's make-up caboodles. I suddenly felt his pain. How terribly embarresing to have to purchase this item. He turned around and looked at me as if to say, "This green Depends box is your destiny." Our ages were suddenly revealed as he purchased Depends and I stood there with a box of cookie dough. Another shopper probably assumed that I was his grandaughter and that grandpa was going to need those Depends after he ate the cookie dough.