Actually, since "The Office" is in its 5th or 6th season, "that's what she said" is probably more 2004 than 2009, but nevertheless, it is still quite a popular catchphrase in my office. Because work, after all, isn't really about dilligence, accuracy or productivity--it's about amusing oneself and one's co-workers as many times as possible within a (hellaciously long) 8 hour time span.
That being said, there is a new catchphrase in town.
A little over 2 weeks ago, my co-workers and I were coming back from lunch, when one of them asked my boss's assistant (let's call my boss Caleb--BTW, how's that "Fake Name Generator" working for ya?) the following question: "What is the most outrageous thing that you've ever heard Caleb say?"
Just to back up a bit and give you some context, my boss has one of the filthiest mouths that I have ever heard on a human being. Now, I say this fully admitting that I have a foul mouth. My mouth has been genetically hard wired for profanity. My grandmother, an ex-Navy nurse, WILL drop the "F" bomb--and not occasionally--habitually. I think the first time I heard her say "bullshit" I splurted milk out my nose. Of course, her colorful choice of words no longer phases me. My mother, weirdly proud of her foul-mouthed heritage, continued along in that tradition. So naturally, I'm desensitized from not only the cursing that takes place around me, but also from the abhorrent words that drop freely from my mouth. (In an attempt to curb my cursing, I started replacing "f&*k" with "balls," which I thought went well until I saw the look of horror and disgust on one of my friend's faces as he asked, "Did you just say 'balls'? Like big, hairy balls?" Now, I can't stop saying "balls.") I'll just sum this up by saying that there isn't much that shocks or offends me in the realm of "dirty" words.
That being said, my boss's assistant responded to the question by telling us how when one of Caleb's old clients simply wasn't paying his bill, she mentioned it to him and after a few minutes of frustrating exchanges, he burst out, "He'd damn well better pay or I'm going to jump on his face and s#!t down his throat!"
While you are pausing to consider the weight of that statement, I have to tell you that we (who heard it first) were busy laughing our asses off. In the weeks since I first heard that life changing sentence, I've taken a very rough straw poll and found that most people place this type of comment in 1 of 2 boxes. Either you find it HILARIOUS or you find it DISGUSTING. (Personally, I find it hilarious because it's disgusting, but I like to think out of the box.)
As you can probably imagine given our collective response, "I'm going to jump on his/her face and s#!t down his/her throat" immediately became the new office catchphrase. We also spent a serious amount of time debating a) the most effective and meaningful way to use this phrase in our boss's presence, b) how soon to do it and c) if he would even recognize that he was the person who had contributed to (what was sure to add up to) hours of delight at work.
Cut to almost 3 weeks later, when my co-worker Ruben became my personal hero by using the new catchphrase in our weekly meeting, in front of my boss, with a straight face. I have no idea how he was able to gather the strength and presence of mind to pull this off, but he should be rewarded profusely and honored by all office workers, everywhere.
And the exchange went something like this:
CO-WORKER #1: I'm so frustrated with these people! I don't know what to do! I'm tired of dealing with these assholes. They have no idea of Customer Service.
RUBEN: You need to just jump on their faces and s&*t down their throats.
(Everyone in the meeting erupts in laughter while my boss sits there, unaware of what has just happened and processes the situation rather than the individual comments of his employees.)
DUCHESS PETTIGREW (through tears of laughter): Ruben, you're my hero.
(The boss gets up and exits, muttering--we think--the catchphrase to himself.)
Best. Day. Ever.
Please feel free to this phrase liberally around your office, but don't mention my fake name or my boss's fake name, because I don't want him to...well, you know--
*As usual, there is FUN linked to today's title.*
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
WHO IS Duchess Pettigrew?
Good Question. Believe it or not, Duchess Pettigrew IS a real person. She's just not me. For those of you who are wondering why I would start a blog under a name that isn't mine, I will answer: some things (in fact alot of things) in this world don't make sense and are, in fact, beyond comprehension--and this blog is one of those things.
Comprehension is overrated anyway. Knowing everything isn't the solution. Think about this little tidbit: knowledge might just be a curse and not a blessing. As Spiderman's uncle once said, "With great power comes great responsibility." So if knowledge is power, then knowledge comes with responsibility. And if you have a GREAT amount of knowledge....well, you're getting the point now, right? I think it breaks down something like this: knowledge = responsibility = death. Or it might be somewhat more complicated than that. I'm still working it out.
But I digress. And actually, there is a "why" behind Duchess Pettigrew, I just felt like blathering on a random tangent....
If you know me, then you know that I love to use a fake name whenever I can. Not because I don't like my name (although being named "Venus" might have been cool), but because I have a very common name. Whenever I use my real name at the Coffee Bean, I usually end up mistakenly getting someone's extra dirty, extra hot, skinny, 3 pump mocha latte or some crap like that because, inevitably, someone else with MY name was in the Coffee Bean and jumped the gun. To avoid this from happening, I use names like "Violet" or "Edith" or "Constance"--and by the way, fake names are surprisingly handy. You can whip them out at restaurants when you put your "name" in for a table, overseas when you are trying to be mysterious, or when making prank phone calls to your mom (and yes, I have used them for all of the above).
Which leads us, quite conveniently to the subject of Ms. Pettigrew.
I had to go to jury duty twice last year (and there's a story behind that, but perhaps for another time) and during the second go round, while I was sitting in the jury corral trying to comprehend (yes, a cheesy callback to the earlier subject of knowledge) the disturbing images and annoyingly idiotic voice over of the "Jury Instruction" film, a monotoned voice began calling out names. And one name, that of Duchess Pettigrew, immediately stood out to me as not only a distinctive, bizarre name but as an opportunity.
An opportunity to "steal" her name and slap it onto a blog dedicated to distinctive, bizarre nothings.
There's an underlying connection here from the unknown (to both of us) subject (Duchess) and the attempt to know someone "anonymous" (me) through their blog which is signed with a fake name...but that would lead us down the road of comprehension and knowledge and we don't really want to go there right now. At least, I don't. You, of course, are more than welcome to explore this theory on your own time.
So, there you go. One mystery that you can comprehend. Kind of. Though, on a global level, it's probably not going to do you any good.
Oh, and don't forget to check out the link attached to today's blog title. FUN. We can all agree on that, right?
Comprehension is overrated anyway. Knowing everything isn't the solution. Think about this little tidbit: knowledge might just be a curse and not a blessing. As Spiderman's uncle once said, "With great power comes great responsibility." So if knowledge is power, then knowledge comes with responsibility. And if you have a GREAT amount of knowledge....well, you're getting the point now, right? I think it breaks down something like this: knowledge = responsibility = death. Or it might be somewhat more complicated than that. I'm still working it out.
But I digress. And actually, there is a "why" behind Duchess Pettigrew, I just felt like blathering on a random tangent....
If you know me, then you know that I love to use a fake name whenever I can. Not because I don't like my name (although being named "Venus" might have been cool), but because I have a very common name. Whenever I use my real name at the Coffee Bean, I usually end up mistakenly getting someone's extra dirty, extra hot, skinny, 3 pump mocha latte or some crap like that because, inevitably, someone else with MY name was in the Coffee Bean and jumped the gun. To avoid this from happening, I use names like "Violet" or "Edith" or "Constance"--and by the way, fake names are surprisingly handy. You can whip them out at restaurants when you put your "name" in for a table, overseas when you are trying to be mysterious, or when making prank phone calls to your mom (and yes, I have used them for all of the above).
Which leads us, quite conveniently to the subject of Ms. Pettigrew.
I had to go to jury duty twice last year (and there's a story behind that, but perhaps for another time) and during the second go round, while I was sitting in the jury corral trying to comprehend (yes, a cheesy callback to the earlier subject of knowledge) the disturbing images and annoyingly idiotic voice over of the "Jury Instruction" film, a monotoned voice began calling out names. And one name, that of Duchess Pettigrew, immediately stood out to me as not only a distinctive, bizarre name but as an opportunity.
An opportunity to "steal" her name and slap it onto a blog dedicated to distinctive, bizarre nothings.
There's an underlying connection here from the unknown (to both of us) subject (Duchess) and the attempt to know someone "anonymous" (me) through their blog which is signed with a fake name...but that would lead us down the road of comprehension and knowledge and we don't really want to go there right now. At least, I don't. You, of course, are more than welcome to explore this theory on your own time.
So, there you go. One mystery that you can comprehend. Kind of. Though, on a global level, it's probably not going to do you any good.
Oh, and don't forget to check out the link attached to today's blog title. FUN. We can all agree on that, right?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
A Perfect Day for Bananafish...errr...Blogging
Well, I have been wanting to start a blog, but have been putting it off (and putting it off and putting it off) because a) I fear committment, b) I fear writing, and c) I fear the consequences of committing to my writing. However, since I have convinced myself that a regular blog might possibly improve not only the content but the speed of my writing, here we both are. You and me, that is. The blog, as it stands, is not alive. Yet.
So, what, you ask, will be the topic of this blog? I'm not really sure as a matter of fact. I have a hazy idea which consists of: catalogs of my many insecurities and obsessions, first-person accounts of my family relationships (preliminary title: "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly"), sarcastic comments, bizarre incidents (of which I have more than my fair share), random interests (such as updates on the impending Giant Squid Invasion and the impending Class 4 Zombie Invasion), and general ridiculousness. Hazy, yes, though hopefully, at no time boring.
But why the reference to the Salinger story, you ask? First and foremost, I remember reading it in my junior year of high school (before Nirvana smelled Teen Spirit and before Google answered Everything I've Always Wanted to Know About Sex) and thinking that there was something...wrong/off about it. To name a few things: Muriel lacquers her nails red in a white dressing gown, Seymour grabs ahold of Sybil by the ankle(s), Muriel is "badly sunburned" despite having used sunscreen, Mrs. Carpenter dresses her prepubescent daughter in a yellow bikini and calls her "pussy," and Sybil, we find out, like to chew candles (This is all before we find out that bananafish like to gorge themselves to death and the main character commits suicide.). The story is jam packed with strange imagery....so David Lynchian (which is probably why I like(d) it).
Major downer of a story, am I right? (I've included a link, just in case. Click on my blog title and see! Oooo! Technology!) BUT (the point is coming soon, I promise), it just so happens that I read the attached Newsweek article wherein the author proposes that we are "a culture of liars" and it made me.....THINK. Since I try not to think on a regular basis, I was naturally deeply, deeply disturbed. And since I've made liars and the subject of lying a hobby of mine, I couldn't help but agree with the author.
I reread Salinger's story today because it was the first thing that I thought of after I read the Newsweek thingy. BUT WHY, you ask? Well, I suspect it's because Salinger's story is full of liars (until now, I had never thought of it like that)--you could just as easily call them "active pretenders" as well, though Bennett's article does use the horrible "L" word. So we are all deceiving each other, according to Salinger and Bennett? Life is deception? Why....yes, yes it is...alot of the time.
In fact, I've just deceived you into reading this blog (if you have read it this far, then you MUST be bored by now--see, I lied eariler when I said you wouldn't be) which is really about....well, nothing really. Gotcha!!
So, what, you ask, will be the topic of this blog? I'm not really sure as a matter of fact. I have a hazy idea which consists of: catalogs of my many insecurities and obsessions, first-person accounts of my family relationships (preliminary title: "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly"), sarcastic comments, bizarre incidents (of which I have more than my fair share), random interests (such as updates on the impending Giant Squid Invasion and the impending Class 4 Zombie Invasion), and general ridiculousness. Hazy, yes, though hopefully, at no time boring.
But why the reference to the Salinger story, you ask? First and foremost, I remember reading it in my junior year of high school (before Nirvana smelled Teen Spirit and before Google answered Everything I've Always Wanted to Know About Sex) and thinking that there was something...wrong/off about it. To name a few things: Muriel lacquers her nails red in a white dressing gown, Seymour grabs ahold of Sybil by the ankle(s), Muriel is "badly sunburned" despite having used sunscreen, Mrs. Carpenter dresses her prepubescent daughter in a yellow bikini and calls her "pussy," and Sybil, we find out, like to chew candles (This is all before we find out that bananafish like to gorge themselves to death and the main character commits suicide.). The story is jam packed with strange imagery....so David Lynchian (which is probably why I like(d) it).
Major downer of a story, am I right? (I've included a link, just in case. Click on my blog title and see! Oooo! Technology!) BUT (the point is coming soon, I promise), it just so happens that I read the attached Newsweek article wherein the author proposes that we are "a culture of liars" and it made me.....THINK. Since I try not to think on a regular basis, I was naturally deeply, deeply disturbed. And since I've made liars and the subject of lying a hobby of mine, I couldn't help but agree with the author.
I reread Salinger's story today because it was the first thing that I thought of after I read the Newsweek thingy. BUT WHY, you ask? Well, I suspect it's because Salinger's story is full of liars (until now, I had never thought of it like that)--you could just as easily call them "active pretenders" as well, though Bennett's article does use the horrible "L" word. So we are all deceiving each other, according to Salinger and Bennett? Life is deception? Why....yes, yes it is...alot of the time.
In fact, I've just deceived you into reading this blog (if you have read it this far, then you MUST be bored by now--see, I lied eariler when I said you wouldn't be) which is really about....well, nothing really. Gotcha!!
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