Saturday, September 27, 2003

Norwegian Log: Day Four

Due to a third New Student Orientation and a Last Minute 'This Report Needs to be Completed before Monday Afternoon' Command from the Powers-That-Be at work I spent the majority of my day on the job...'chained' like the Desk-Monkey that I am (from 7:30 AM to 4 PM).

Thus, not much to report other than that I am 'shagged out after a long squawk' and desire Very Much several/many Cool Beverages of the Beer-Variety.

Odd Exchange (of the Real Variety OR How to Mess with a Co-Worker's Mind)

For no apparent reason I got caught up in a conversation about jeans with a co-worker whilst taking a break from the hustle-bustle:

Co-Worker (CW): I think need some new jeans.
Me: (quickly scan said CW's pants) Oh yeah? You should always purchase your denims at Gas Stations.
CW (?!?): Why's that?
Me: Trucker Jeans are the way to go. They're that deep shade of blue that never fades even after 100s of times through the wash.* The only drawback is that you have to avoid getting them wet when you're wearing them-- whether it be from a sudden downpour, a spilled drink, or the tears of a clown-- otherwise you'll find that your underwear and tubesocks get stained blue from them.
CW: I don't wear tubesocks.
Me: do wear underwear, yes?
CW: Duh.
Me: Don't say that I didn't warn you.
CW: ???

Ah...anything to make the time at work more enjoyable, eh?

Early Morning Dog Fun

One other incident of Note was my attempt to get the Dog to take a dump before I left for work.

Roger has his own agenda most of the time when it comes to First Poo at Dawn. This morning it appeared that things were going to happen in a rather rapid-fire manner meaning that I was assured a quick 'In and Out' with the beast. He rushed to the front yard and assumed 'the position' and the following unfolded:

(I will now attempt to translate the thoughts that were crossing my dog's mind as he prepared for the delivery of a tightly coiled 'lawn ornament of the Stink Variety')

This is good. This is good. Get it out of me and then I can eat. Eating is good. Here it comes. Here it comes. Hey...look! An apple core in the gutter!!! Time to call a 'retreat' in order to inspect said discarded goody. Why is the Hairy Guy yelling at me now?

Twas a great day, indeed.


*Of course it could very well be that the secret to the non-fading-deep indigo is that Truckers send their pantalones through a spin cycle as often as our celestial friend, Haley's Comet, visits our section of the Solar System and NOT a result of some secret Trucker Jean dying method. I don't know. RUSTLER'S never responded to my unsolicited inquiries.


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