Paging Mr. Herman
I do not recall whether I spoke about the horse man from the sixth floor. The sixth floor is the psych unit of this hospital. Horse man is, in a nutshell, this guy who was admitted because of his addiction to having sex with horses. Now what I want to know is, how exactly does one find that one enjoys this? Also, do you have to sweep the horse off its hooves? Take it to a romantic dinner in the finest pasture? Buy it flowers I guess for a snack? I mean how does one decide that one even wants to woo a horse? It is a mystery. Not unlike the mystery of how Shit Guy decided that shit is a great conditioner and exfoliant. Shit Guy was smearing shit in his hair and pushing it into his ears. Security was called as this is not sane behavior. Hopefully, they gave him a smack down. That shit is just nasty. Enough about the crazies.
So there have been a couple of examples of me being a pretentious, pompous ass lately. One was two days ago. I was at work, go figure, and taking a smoke break. This little old guy walked outside where I was. He said, "Gittin' cold aint it?" I looked at him straight faced, grasped the cuff of my lab coat, and tugging it twice ever so gently said, "Yea well I would not know as I am wearing this." I said something like that anyway. Then, realizing how much of an ass I had sounded like, I proceeded to carry on the most awkwardly boring conversation about the weather soas to try to set things right in the world once more.
The other example is not as big of a deal as the old guy. Basically, there were only two technicians working last night, this night shift guy and yours truly. Well, this nurse was screaming about her medicine. She said I had already been to the floor and did not have it. Well night shift guy and I went up there together to take her meds to her and rub her nose in her retardation. She said that another guy had just been up there delivering meds. Blah blah blah blah...anyway, to make a short story long, at some point there was mention of me having a twin. I was about to say that it must be my doppelganger acting up again, but I doubted the intelligence of the nurse and night shift guy. Sort of thought that word would go over their heads, so I said nothing. How assy is that?!
What else? Karma. Karma hates me. What? She does. Karma absolutely hates me. Actually I huess she loves me. She is always coming to see me. For example, I once convinced my little sister that she had contracted AIDS. Now, I have "the hiv." I used to make fun of this boy in school who had EXTREMELY dry skin. We called him Snake Boy. Hey, it was elementary school. Now, my face stays dry as does my scalp. Not dandruff just dry. Then there was the whole homeless thing. I kept making fun of them and whatnot after my car was broken into. Since then I have had to sleep in my car a couple of times as my mom lives an hour away and I cannot afford gas. Plus, my cell phone was turned off, so I could not get in touch with any friends and stay with them. Oh and if you go to Rabid Chinchilla Productions, assuming it is even still up and running, and watch WIRK 1 and 2, you'll notice a fat chick. The fat chick is this girl from work that I hate. The skinny goober guy is my boss. I call the fat chick Rotundra the Salami Queen. After I made those toons, I started gaining weight. It is one thing after another. Maybe if I make fun of rich people...hmmmm...
I had a jam session earlier to Ace of Base and Ricky Martin. What the hell is that all about? I mean I saw the sign earlier. Then I tried living the crazy life. Why? I don't know. I think it was some freakish repressed fag urge or something.
Nicole said this:
"Whatever happened to canned corn hash beef? The good stuff! They just don't make meat like they used to. Now ya got ya beef. REAL PORK. Your so called "CHICKEN." Back then ya didn't know what the hell you was eatin. Didn't have to worry bout no mad cow...salmanela...E-BO-LIE...typhoid fever...thyroids...Just some Spam and some buttuh rice."
It amused me.
I am just a strange sort of little creature who lives in a magical world of make believe...waiting on Prince Charming. I have had "Prince Heartbreaker," "Prince Junkie," "Prince of Pain," and most recently "Prince No We Are Not Together But We Are Not Dating Other People To Date Someone Else Would Be The Equivalent Of Us Breaking Up Because We Are Only Dating One Another Even Though We Are Not Dating." Actually I may or may not still be dating the latter. Still not sure what is going on there. So if you are Prince Charming, here I am already!! Not that I am desperate to find him by any means. Just beginning to think he does not exist. Or if he does, and I have in fact met him, he confuses the crap out of me.
That is all for now. I will write again when I am able.
GODDAMMIT, I hate that trollupy garden gnome bitch from hell who calls herself my co-worker.
I do not recall whether I spoke about the horse man from the sixth floor. The sixth floor is the psych unit of this hospital. Horse man is, in a nutshell, this guy who was admitted because of his addiction to having sex with horses. Now what I want to know is, how exactly does one find that one enjoys this? Also, do you have to sweep the horse off its hooves? Take it to a romantic dinner in the finest pasture? Buy it flowers I guess for a snack? I mean how does one decide that one even wants to woo a horse? It is a mystery. Not unlike the mystery of how Shit Guy decided that shit is a great conditioner and exfoliant. Shit Guy was smearing shit in his hair and pushing it into his ears. Security was called as this is not sane behavior. Hopefully, they gave him a smack down. That shit is just nasty. Enough about the crazies.
So there have been a couple of examples of me being a pretentious, pompous ass lately. One was two days ago. I was at work, go figure, and taking a smoke break. This little old guy walked outside where I was. He said, "Gittin' cold aint it?" I looked at him straight faced, grasped the cuff of my lab coat, and tugging it twice ever so gently said, "Yea well I would not know as I am wearing this." I said something like that anyway. Then, realizing how much of an ass I had sounded like, I proceeded to carry on the most awkwardly boring conversation about the weather soas to try to set things right in the world once more.
The other example is not as big of a deal as the old guy. Basically, there were only two technicians working last night, this night shift guy and yours truly. Well, this nurse was screaming about her medicine. She said I had already been to the floor and did not have it. Well night shift guy and I went up there together to take her meds to her and rub her nose in her retardation. She said that another guy had just been up there delivering meds. Blah blah blah blah...anyway, to make a short story long, at some point there was mention of me having a twin. I was about to say that it must be my doppelganger acting up again, but I doubted the intelligence of the nurse and night shift guy. Sort of thought that word would go over their heads, so I said nothing. How assy is that?!
What else? Karma. Karma hates me. What? She does. Karma absolutely hates me. Actually I huess she loves me. She is always coming to see me. For example, I once convinced my little sister that she had contracted AIDS. Now, I have "the hiv." I used to make fun of this boy in school who had EXTREMELY dry skin. We called him Snake Boy. Hey, it was elementary school. Now, my face stays dry as does my scalp. Not dandruff just dry. Then there was the whole homeless thing. I kept making fun of them and whatnot after my car was broken into. Since then I have had to sleep in my car a couple of times as my mom lives an hour away and I cannot afford gas. Plus, my cell phone was turned off, so I could not get in touch with any friends and stay with them. Oh and if you go to Rabid Chinchilla Productions, assuming it is even still up and running, and watch WIRK 1 and 2, you'll notice a fat chick. The fat chick is this girl from work that I hate. The skinny goober guy is my boss. I call the fat chick Rotundra the Salami Queen. After I made those toons, I started gaining weight. It is one thing after another. Maybe if I make fun of rich people...hmmmm...
I had a jam session earlier to Ace of Base and Ricky Martin. What the hell is that all about? I mean I saw the sign earlier. Then I tried living the crazy life. Why? I don't know. I think it was some freakish repressed fag urge or something.
Nicole said this:
"Whatever happened to canned corn hash beef? The good stuff! They just don't make meat like they used to. Now ya got ya beef. REAL PORK. Your so called "CHICKEN." Back then ya didn't know what the hell you was eatin. Didn't have to worry bout no mad cow...salmanela...E-BO-LIE...typhoid fever...thyroids...Just some Spam and some buttuh rice."
It amused me.
I am just a strange sort of little creature who lives in a magical world of make believe...waiting on Prince Charming. I have had "Prince Heartbreaker," "Prince Junkie," "Prince of Pain," and most recently "Prince No We Are Not Together But We Are Not Dating Other People To Date Someone Else Would Be The Equivalent Of Us Breaking Up Because We Are Only Dating One Another Even Though We Are Not Dating." Actually I may or may not still be dating the latter. Still not sure what is going on there. So if you are Prince Charming, here I am already!! Not that I am desperate to find him by any means. Just beginning to think he does not exist. Or if he does, and I have in fact met him, he confuses the crap out of me.
That is all for now. I will write again when I am able.
GODDAMMIT, I hate that trollupy garden gnome bitch from hell who calls herself my co-worker.
posted by Preston at 8:41 PM
