A small midweek update....
Alternative Usage
( Property management, her toilet was "acting weird" )
SC: “Ok, I won’t use the toilet unless I have to go to the bathroom.”
…that implies that you have other uses for the toilet which you are now denying yourself. I know the function of mine is pretty straightforward and its uses limited so I’m almost afraid to ask what other uses you’ve discovered? Wash basin? Punch bowl? Butt moistener? Automated Cat Bath ( Although you'd really have to sit on the lid to hold it down... )?
SC: “I don’t usually flush it at night anyway.”
…umm….so….you’re saving it all for the morning?
867
Me: “Alright, and the postal code please?”
SC: “X-X-X….you mean box number?”
Did I say box number? No? Well then, that would logically imply that no, I did not mean box number. Strangely enough I meant what I originally said when I said “postal code”. I know from years of arduous experience that Nunavut is some sort of ass backwards bizzarro world that seems to be completely disconnected from the real world with the sole exception of phone lines. Since you were born, raised and if there is any justice in this world, will die cold and alone in that barren arctic bizzarro world you’re just going to have to trust me here: When I ask a question, I need the answer to that question. Not the answer to an unrelated question you hallucinated or otherwise made up on your own.
867
Me: “Ok, and what would you like to order?”
SC: “Um…”
From the background: “HATS! I WANNA ORDER A HAT!”
SC: “<Yelling at people in background> What do you wanna order?!”
( From here there is much mumbling and discussion for some time. )
SC: “Uh….I’ll call you back. We haven’t decided yet.”
Ahh….this scent….it’s somehow unsettlingly familiar…..what was it again? Oh right, failure. It’s the kind of aroma that wafts out of the back end of a bloated hippo carcass on the Serengeti as it slowly bakes in the sun. The kind of smell that clings to your clothes for 3 days. The kind of smell that nothing short of tomato juice or fire will get off your skin. The kind of smell that seems to permeate the entire landscape north of he 60th parallel.
Gah...
Attention White Guys That Still High Five that got on at Broadway: Your pizza smells like goat ass. Not run of the mill goat ass either. Goat ass that’s had a fever and the runs for a fortnight and no one’s had a chance to hose it down yet. Please live a little and invest more than 78 cents a slice next time. Because I’m pretty sure whatever toppings you have on there were adopted from the SPCA several days prior.
Accommodations
SC: “I see shuttles for the other hotels here, the Travel Lodge, the Best Western, the Park & Fly-“
Ah yes, the Park & Fly, that’s a rather nice hotel you know. You should go there. I highly recommend it.
Confidence
SC: “I’m sure you can get me a better rate at the <hotel> then $72.”
I’m sure I could! I’m sure I can do lots of things! I’m sure if I click my heels together times and wished really hard I could shit rainbows and make puppies sing Christmas carols! It doesn’t mean I’m going to try though. You know why? Because that would be stupid. Much like your statement.
Sigh, fine, but just this once.
Caller: “Hi, this is Khan from <company.”
<sigh> ok, you’re just making it too easy now, but I guess it’s kind of mandatory:
KHAAAAAAAANNNNN~!
There, happy?
Wait, what?
Me: “Alright, do you have a pen?”
SC: “I have my daughter’s head, that’ll work.”
……wait, what? I’m really trying to figure this statement out. Is she short and obedient, therefore ideally suited to be using as a flat surface and/or beer rest? Is she an idiot savant with a gift for memorizing numbers? Is her face made out of charcoal so you can just sort of slam her into the paper and smear her around? Was there turbulence and she got a pencil lodged in her eye that you can’t remove until the paramedics arrive? What’s going on here?
2 more shifts left.....
Alternative Usage
( Property management, her toilet was "acting weird" )
SC: “Ok, I won’t use the toilet unless I have to go to the bathroom.”
…that implies that you have other uses for the toilet which you are now denying yourself. I know the function of mine is pretty straightforward and its uses limited so I’m almost afraid to ask what other uses you’ve discovered? Wash basin? Punch bowl? Butt moistener? Automated Cat Bath ( Although you'd really have to sit on the lid to hold it down... )?
SC: “I don’t usually flush it at night anyway.”
…umm….so….you’re saving it all for the morning?
867
Me: “Alright, and the postal code please?”
SC: “X-X-X….you mean box number?”
Did I say box number? No? Well then, that would logically imply that no, I did not mean box number. Strangely enough I meant what I originally said when I said “postal code”. I know from years of arduous experience that Nunavut is some sort of ass backwards bizzarro world that seems to be completely disconnected from the real world with the sole exception of phone lines. Since you were born, raised and if there is any justice in this world, will die cold and alone in that barren arctic bizzarro world you’re just going to have to trust me here: When I ask a question, I need the answer to that question. Not the answer to an unrelated question you hallucinated or otherwise made up on your own.
867
Me: “Ok, and what would you like to order?”
SC: “Um…”
From the background: “HATS! I WANNA ORDER A HAT!”
SC: “<Yelling at people in background> What do you wanna order?!”
( From here there is much mumbling and discussion for some time. )
SC: “Uh….I’ll call you back. We haven’t decided yet.”
Ahh….this scent….it’s somehow unsettlingly familiar…..what was it again? Oh right, failure. It’s the kind of aroma that wafts out of the back end of a bloated hippo carcass on the Serengeti as it slowly bakes in the sun. The kind of smell that clings to your clothes for 3 days. The kind of smell that nothing short of tomato juice or fire will get off your skin. The kind of smell that seems to permeate the entire landscape north of he 60th parallel.
Gah...
Attention White Guys That Still High Five that got on at Broadway: Your pizza smells like goat ass. Not run of the mill goat ass either. Goat ass that’s had a fever and the runs for a fortnight and no one’s had a chance to hose it down yet. Please live a little and invest more than 78 cents a slice next time. Because I’m pretty sure whatever toppings you have on there were adopted from the SPCA several days prior.
Accommodations
SC: “I see shuttles for the other hotels here, the Travel Lodge, the Best Western, the Park & Fly-“
Ah yes, the Park & Fly, that’s a rather nice hotel you know. You should go there. I highly recommend it.
Confidence
SC: “I’m sure you can get me a better rate at the <hotel> then $72.”
I’m sure I could! I’m sure I can do lots of things! I’m sure if I click my heels together times and wished really hard I could shit rainbows and make puppies sing Christmas carols! It doesn’t mean I’m going to try though. You know why? Because that would be stupid. Much like your statement.
Sigh, fine, but just this once.
Caller: “Hi, this is Khan from <company.”
<sigh> ok, you’re just making it too easy now, but I guess it’s kind of mandatory:
KHAAAAAAAANNNNN~!
There, happy?
Wait, what?
Me: “Alright, do you have a pen?”
SC: “I have my daughter’s head, that’ll work.”
……wait, what? I’m really trying to figure this statement out. Is she short and obedient, therefore ideally suited to be using as a flat surface and/or beer rest? Is she an idiot savant with a gift for memorizing numbers? Is her face made out of charcoal so you can just sort of slam her into the paper and smear her around? Was there turbulence and she got a pencil lodged in her eye that you can’t remove until the paramedics arrive? What’s going on here?
2 more shifts left.....
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