I gave my notice and handed in my letter of resignation. Woo hoo! Or, as a friend of mine used to say, "Party ass, man!" (Not to be confused with, "Party, ass man!")
Sick of the poke of the Man's thumb in my eye, I marched into my boss' office and said, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it any more!"
And I stared -- oh, I stared long and hard -- and then I said, "I'm not out of order! You're out of order! You're out of order! The whole trial is out of order! They're out of order!"
I sensed I was on a roll. "Cut the horseshit, son," I said. "Who dropped a whole truckload of fizzies into the swim meet? Who delivered the medical school cadavers to the alumni dinner? Every Halloween, the trees are filled with underwear. Every spring, the toilets explode.
"Now you listen to me, you smooth talking son-of-a-bitch," I continued, "let me lay it on the line for you and your boss, whoever he is. Johnny Fontane will never get that movie!"
Did I show her, or what?
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Notes from Maggie's Farm (part 2)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
You could have reminded her that "Charlie don't surf."
wow? really? just don't start working out in your garage in the mid-afternoon and buying pot from your teenage neighbors, and you should be ok...
So your finally going to start that porn ring you've always talked about. Time to start living the dream brother!
You should of sent a flame thrower through that place!
Ahhhh, the beauty of a comma, Ass Man!
Party ass, man v. party, ass man.
That's a helluva tossup as to which is funnier.
I hope you leveled my favorite line at her:
Hey. If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like Frank Shirley, my boss, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where's the Tylenol?
-Clark Griswold, Christmas Vacation
Of course , you'd have to modify it a bit as it's a She not a He, and therefore her name probably isn't Frank Shirley and she probably doesn't live on Melody Lane.
Probably.
Good for you. Good. For. You.
Post a Comment