Life in tapes

Hi, Julia here. The boss is busy watching TV. Its weird, but it is the show with that really old phonebooth, only, now the guy travelling in it is Moe, but I can't see Larry, Shemp or any of the Curlies anywhere. Instead there is this cute guy who is wearing a skirt, but the boss claims that he is "straight as an arrow", whatever that means. They are fighting, like, robotmen with handles on their head. Anyway, I reminded him that he should remember to update his blog, but he just threw me a tape that he had lying around and said "Transcribe this". So I did. I am writing my bosses name as "boss", since he doesn't really want me to tell you his real name. I dunno why. His real name is not Boss. That is a silly name. Anywho, as he always says:


Mark: Whatcha got there, dude?
Boss: Found me dictaphone. I'm just sitting here, playing with it.
Mark: I am so gonna steal that thing and edit the first sentence out.
Boss: Hehe.
Mark: How is this whole secretary thing working out for you.
Boss: Assistant, Mark. She is my assistant. And it is working out pretty good.
Mark: She seems a bit... vapid, doesn't she?
Boss: Yes, but I get the sneaking suspicion that a lot more is going on inside of that pretty head.
Mark: Yeah, the word "shiny" is chanted repeatedly.
Boss: No, no, I think that she might be smarter than we give her credit for.
Mark: Nah, probably just "shiny", and what about that hot little thing across the street, huh? Huh? You tappin' that? Huh? A bit of the old in'n'out? Huh? The Horisontal Hula? Huh? Putting the caddle out to graze? Huh? Playing The Yakkety Sax? Huh? Painting the garage? Huh? Surfing the Pacific? Nudging the Saynomore? Huh? Grabbing the bus to...
Ashley: Oi! I am right here.
Mark: Well, so you are.
Ashley: Yeah. I have been here for fifteen minutes.
Mark: Oh. So before I started euphemising.
Boss: She was sitting five feet away, you git!
Ashley: I gave you that Cornetto.
Mark: You did not. That redheaded one...
Boss: Julia.
Mark: Yeah, she gave it to me.
Boss: She's not here. She went to visit her parents, out in the country.
Mark: Since when?
Boss: Since yesterday.
Mark: But where did I get this Cornetto?
Ashley: Are you high?
Boss: Shiny.
Ashley: Hey, have you guys ever done drugs?
Boss: Why?
Ashley: Come on, I wanna know. I love gossip. I feed on gossip. I am woman, hear me digest on tabloids and juicy anecdotes. Come on, have you done drugs.
Mark: Define "drugs".
Ashley: You know, like, extacy.
Mark: I have given quite a lot of it.
Boss: I am more of a downer kind of guy.
Ashley: Really? You have done drugs?
Boss: No?
Ashley: Come one, tell me.
Boss: No, tell me about your drug use.
Ashley: Okay. Back when I was 16, I used to smoke pot with with my friend Kerri.
Mark: Dopefiend in the house.
Ashley: Come on, I want to know stuff about you. Mark shares everything about himself, wheter you want to or not, but you never talk about your past. Come on. Tell me something seedy and weird that you have done.
Boss: I have done nothing wrong. Ever.
Ashley: There has to be something unusual and dark in your past.
Boss: No. I'm normal. I'm human. A normal young human male.
Mark: He is right. Except for, like, one one-night stand, he has done nothing weird, ever.
Ashley: Oh, that creepy guys slutty girl?
Mark: That's the one.
Ashley: How did he ever get clean?
Mark: He filled a tub with rubbing alcohol and he burned his bedsheets.
Ashley: So you have done nothing wrong, ever? No juniors running around?
Boss: Nope.
Ashley: No addictions?
Boss: No. Well, I do love to watch the Smurfs, but I can quit anytime.
Ashley: No physical defects?
Boss: I can't grow a beard.
Ashley: No weird obsessions?
Boss: Oh, tons of those
Ashley: Oh, right. But, if you ran for leader of this country, what would they find.
Boss: Nothing. That is my ludicrous claim, and I stand by it.

Then the tape ran out. And my boss thinks that I am pretty and smart, so, all in all, this was a good day.

An apology for the delay in updates.

I was working on a really funny post, or so I throught. About the man who drives the icecreamtruck. But, when I had written about half a page, it turned out to be not as funny as previously anticipated. Well, it sucked, so I have to come up with a new idea. I know that it shouldn't be so hard to come up with ideas, but things have been quite slow recently.

But that is the nature of blogging, right? Sites have to go through more times of updatelessness than of updating. It am pretty sure that weeks of not updating blogs are part of the rules of owning one. In fact, I think that it is one of the first rules of nettiquette. So, eh, no update untill I come up with a better idea.

It is like Grandpa Windsong says, "Things take the time they take, and you need to wait for them to take their time". Ofcourse, Sergeant Grandpa always says "What is your major malfunction?!? Get of your lazy butt and do some damn work, you maggot! Now, gimme ten jokes and a visual gag!". Well, that's granddads for you.

Ofcourse, there is Grandma Felicitys boyfriend Bubba, who has begun insisting that I refer to him as Grandpa Paris, whose advice is for me to get laid. I have tried to explain to him that my choices are my neighbour, whose special talent for violence combined with her femine touch are something that I need, and that she is therefore not one-night-stand material, also, is not interested in me, romantically, and my assistant, who is, by the way, spending an unusual amount of time here lately, who is way to chipper for me to have sex with and who I cannot afford to lose, right now. He has offered to send a prostitute to my house, but, frankly, there is not enough detergent and rubbing alcohol to clean me and my house after having had a hooker here. Still, it is better than her ex, Mr. Nekrowski, who offered to import a wife from eastern europe, and even throw in the cattleprod for free.

It appears that my apology for not updating has gotten out of hand. So, I should probably stop before this turns into a proper post. So, sorry for the lack of updates. I am sure that I will write a new post any day now.

I need a catchphrase

Because if there is anything that I have learned after watching a lot of TV-sitcoms, you gotta have a catchphrase. I looked through the archives in order to find something, but it appears that the only thing repeated are a varietion on "Then Ashley beat them up", which is not very T-shirt friendly. I need to write less stories that ends with Ashley storming out of her house and punching everything that moves. Something like "Dy-no-mite!", "Eeeeey" or "Did I do that?". But not those, because those have not only been used, but they are also quite stupid.

"Home is where the ankle monitor is". No, that is a bad catchphrase, though I might make it the site tagline.
"My pants are burning". I don't know what that means, but I can imagine thousands of people chanting it at random times. That is sounds stupid, that is another thing.
"Don't blame the shut-in!". Well, I am stuck in my house. And I don't want to be blamed.
"Gotta go wash my hands". I already says this phrase about 12 times a day. Downside, it sounds insane.
"Gotta get my groove on". Well, I have never actually said this phrase. And I really don't want to. Upside, if I was on TV, that is when the audience would go "WHOOOOO!"
"I know I should do something about this, but I'm not gonna". To long. A catchphrase has got to be short and precise, so even the biggest idiot can repeat it. And the biggest idiot probably will repeat catchphrases. And no way that could fit on a T-shirt. How ever much I like the phrase. I might just use it, every once in a while.
"I dare you". Okay, short and simple. Downside, to ordinary a phrase to copyright. Ofcourse, that is what I throught about "You're Fired".
"Waddami, jinxed?". Sucks.
"Jus' doin' mah time, Boss". Well, I am not in real jail, so it is kind of meaningless.
"Well, thats just stupid". Can't disagree there.

Keepin' a low profile

There are people from my past out to get me. People that I have not seen for years, but who has tracked me down, people who has wronged me, and will again. That's right, school reunion. I am stuck in my house, so I can neither run, nor hide. Someone even had the gall the send a letter, asking if they could hold it in my house, since I cannot leave. Apparently, as it turns out now, I was quite popular, in school, despite me hating my classmates and everything they stood for. Well, actually they didn't stand for anything. Well, actually I once saw Janet Ravenburgh and Hank Obermeyer stand for nearly two minutes straight. They were having sex up a wall. Weirdest dang prom I ever saw. They made king and queen too.

We threw a burning chair out on the porch. It appears to keep the reunioners at a distance. All the doors and windows have been barricaded, but they are still outside. We have been communicating with Ashley using large cards, from the roof, but according to her, she looked out the window, and 17 guys immediately came over to hit on her. I hid Julia, who, by the way, has been forced to wear a T-shirt saying "I will never again write in someone elses blog, however good my intentions might have been", in the basement. For her own good. She didn't really understand why, but that is because she doesn't know these people like I know them. Or, knew them. Whatever.

I tried the classic method, of yelling "Hey, you kids get of my lawn", but, alas, years of old men screaming this has desensitized them to the point of them hardly reacting, beyond a call for beer. I tried rapping, since the most pathetic thing ever is white people rapping, but it must have become popular sometime after I stopped paying attention to the modern music scene, in the mid-nineties. Have they forgotten the lesson of Vanilla Ice? Well, yeah, who remembers Vanilla Ice?

Anyway, I remember from my school days, that if you do not stop your classmates from waiting to party, they could be waiting for months. Vince Skankbone and Terry Gollyhop had to repeat the ninth grade after waiting three months for a party, outside a random house. Turned out that the owner was 83 years old. Boy, did Vince and Terry get drunk at that wake. Anyway, I needed to cut them off at the root. Luckily, Denby came by, and he is an instant party killer. Really quite facinating. It is like Moses parting the sea. Only, if Moses was a short, weaselly guy and the sea was a bunch of twenty-something slackers running for their cars, since no one cool most be seen in the same place as Denby unless they are A: Physically hurting him or B: Making fun of him. Those are the rules and so shall it be.