Now I Need A Snack

P-Ziddy saw this during his lunch break one day (Downtown Tulsa).



Scooby-Doo, where are you?

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Thwack!

We were digging through some old stuff, and found a smallish whiteboard that was my wife's back before we got married.

"I remember this thing," she said. "I had it in school, but it's pretty useless now."

"Let me take it to work," I said. "It might be helpful to have, and if it's not I'll throw it away from there." All were in agreement.

I showed up at work with the old whiteboard under my arm. LadyPatsFan and P-Ziddy were the first to see. "What's that?"

"It's just something to slap P-Ziddy with," I said. LadyPatsFan's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Really?!? Can I use it?!?"

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed the whiteboard from me and took a swing. P-Ziddy just barely got his shoulder up to deflect the blow. THWACK!

Big Dawg popped around the corner in an instant. "I just heard P-Ziddy get hit with something. I want a turn."

THWACK!

K-Too jumped up. "Are we hitting P-Ziddy with things? Sweet!" THWACK!

Eventually I wandered over to my desk, empty-handed. The thwacking noises continued for some time. When they finally died down, LadyPatsFan showed up at my desk with a dinner-plate sized shard of whiteboard. "That was awesome! Are you sure you don't want a turn?"

"No, that's OK. I have to drive later."

"Your loss."

I visited P-Ziddy's crumpled form. "Sorry about that," I said. "I had no idea it would get out of hand."

P-Ziddy mumbled angrily at me. "I will... burn you... forever..."

I'll need to find some flame-retardant underwear before he's able to walk again.

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But I Got A Good Haircut

I got my hair cut last week. At the place I use, they always have me sign in. When they are done, the lady who cut my hair initials it. I never knew why until this most recent visit.

The phone rang. I heard bits of the conversation. "She did what? Well, I'm sorry ma'am. Who was it that cut your hair?" There was a long-ish pause and the lady made a confused face. "Really? Uh... OK. I'll check."

She hung up and announced to the room at large, "That customer says the lady who cut her hair was old and heavy-set."

Here I should mention an important detail. Every person cutting hair was a lady. None were older than 30. None were even the slightest bit overweight.

"Did you get her name?" The ladies descended on the list. They found where the offended customer had signed in. "Who cut her hair?" "It was Stacy!"

Across from me, the shortest, youngest, and thinnest of the hair-cutters looked up in horror. She was so small I could fold her up and put her in my pocket. "What?!?"

"Hey Stacy, apparently you're old and fat!" "No! I'm only 21!" "Are those dog years?" "No!" "Those jeans must be REALLY slimming!"

Stacy made mock slapping gestures at all of them. All of us guys getting haircuts exchanged glances. This was dangerous territory. The ladies were having fun, but if a male were to make a joke here it could end very badly. Silently, we all nodded to each other. Mutual ignorance and shared deafness were our only chance.

As I paid my bill, the lady made a comment about Stacy. "She's the most petite of all of us, isn't she?"

Desperation hit like a hammer. I pointed randomly. "Look! A thing!"

I ran for it while she was distracted.

My hair looks awesome this week, and as an added bonus, I got out alive.

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So, This Thing Happened...

It's time for a quick break from the complete silliness you've come expect from me.

I got hit with an incredibly nasty flu-like stomach virus called Gastroenteritis. For the record, it's not any fun. I'm recovering nicely, though.

One very cool thing, though... while I was at the hospital, I got visited by both my managers from work. Those visits were both really awesome.

Today I'm grateful that I feel better and that I work at a good place. A very good place. :)

There will be a more traditionally silly blog post for you this Thursday. In the meantime, have a great week!

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Cow Stick

You all have seen my Optimus Prime potato-head, right?



Right. Thought so.

Also, remember the collection of old toys from my dad's toy chest?



Excellent. Nothing gets by you!

Anyway, I brought a couple of dad's old toys up to work with me and added them to the diorama.

P-Ziddy marveled at the ambiguous farm animal with a rear-axle stuck to his rear. Then, struck by wild inspiration...



Prime is now holding a Cow Stick. "Watch out!", shouted P-Ziddy, "Or I will beat you with my Cow Stick!"

"I dunno," I said. "He looks too jolly for bludgeoning. He looks like he's holding a party favor."

P-Ziddy flashed an evil grin. "Well, one week a year in Vegas a 'Cow Stick' could be considered a party favor."

There was a very long pause. I didn't dare look P-Ziddy in the eyes. "You can't prove that I get that joke," I finally managed.

"Right."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." "Sure."

"He doesn't look anywhere near *that* jolly." "Of course."

I blame P-Ziddy.

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What I've Got For You

Lunchtime! I walked out of the office to a nearby Subway. Good times.

The guy on the right. Two of him. Work with me!

I was headed back to the office with my to-go bag when I passed Large and In Charge. The two of them were skipping across the street like half of Laurel and Hardy twice.

I said hello. Large eye'd my bag and grinned. "What have you got for me?"

"Love," I replied. "And respect."

"You've never had either of those," said In Charge, poking Large in the ribs. His finger sank in to the second joint.

Large slapped him away without looking. To me he said, "I will gladly pay you Tuesday for..."

"No deal," I cut him off. I was tempted, but Large's mustache is too small to pull off that impression.

"Hey, he's not as dumb as you look," said In Charge, giggling.

They wandered off, bickering. It's a pretty normal state of affairs for those two.

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Chim-Chimney

At work, our health insurance is changing. Thus, we all got health screenings.

They brought in some "Traveling Nurses Association Of Mobile Nurses Traveling" group to handle the particulars. It was just a bunch of ladies with smocks and bags of cotton balls. Seriously, that stuff was flying around like confetti. It was a little wild, but at least the atmosphere was festive. They even had clowns.

The last step involved sitting down with a nurse to talk over my results. She was wearing a vest with vertical red and white stripes. "Step right up!", she happily squealed.

She went over my numbers. "This is good, this is good," over and over. Apparently I have very good numbers. Then it got weird.

"If you were a lady," she said, "I'd compare you to Mary Poppins! Perfect in every way!"

There was a brief awkward pause while I searched for a silver lining. My falsetto just improved... Spoons as blunt force objects... that trick with the umbrella would really cut down on the morning commute...

The nurse continued. "I guess since you're a guy I'll just compare you to Bert the Chimney-Sweep."

I blinked and grinned. "Did you just compare me to Dick Van Dyke?" "Yes." "I'll allow it."

I got up to leave. The nurse looked me hopefully. "Can I guess your weight?"

"Sure, go for it." She looked me over. "16 pounds?"

She's good.

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