There are no bad owners, only bad dogs

2005-12-30

Random musings and blatherings.

The Best Parts About Getting Nothing for Christmas: A Brief List

1. No wrapping paper to clean up.
2. No thank-you notes to write.

That's about it.


A Brief Story About Wednesday Night

The first margarita was a really fantastic idea -- maybe the best idea I ever had.

The second margarita was still pretty much genius. That Juan might be full of shit and tell all sorts of tall tales about getting $100 tips from Tommy Lee Jones, but he can mix a bad-ass margarita.

The third margarita was not exactly a bad idea, per se, but it was not especially good, either.

I was late to work on Thursday.

fin.


I am home today because EduMart generously gave us the day off (Monday, too!). So instead of being at work, I am working at home. Dork!

I started the day with taking the bad dogs to the park for romping and pooping (mission accomplished!). We ran into three other dogs there, all of which seemed to be bad. Katy took off running toward them, full speed, but when one of them started running toward her, she turned tail and ran back toward me. He chased her in a big circle about three times, then she decided that I might finally be useful and came to hide behind my legs. Then Buster got into the "creek" and splashed around, which would be ok if the "creek" weren't actually some sort of open sewage run-off thing. Who wants e coli?!

I continued the day with homework, and lots of it. This was difficult due to the fact that neighbors are remodeling in the back and I hear really loud Tejano music blasting all fucking day. I hope the ass face who invented the accordion is currently rotting in hell. La musica es muy mal. La musica me duele. However, my deep and abiding interest in behaviorism and B. F. Skinner prevailed. I hope B. F. Skinner is also currently rotting in hell.


Work has been interesting in that I got hauled down to HR not once (my usual) but twicety yesterday! The greggers later asked me if a day goes by when I don't make someone cry at work.

The first was for the continuing episodic operatic Never Ending Story that is LaZBoy. He was recently transferred to another department, but the HR dude didn't tell his new supervisor ANY of the back story. When the captain filled her in, she refused to sign his "Welcome to Our Department!" paperwork, meaning that he still works for me. He has continued to refuse to turn over his company-owned equipment. The situation is all in the hands of the Big Cheese right now, but the meeting yesterday was funny for several reasons. One, the captain always starts these meetings by discussing recipes. Then we segue into firing people. Two, a new HR dude was there so a lot of old ground had to be covered. At one point he was querying the new non-boss about "Did he come in Tuesday? For how long? What about Wednesday?" In my kind and caring way, I said "Why does it matter where he was on Tuesday? Have you read any of the documentation?" "Well," he responds, "if you're away from your job for three consecutive days without calling, it's considered job abandonment."

I gave him my best Eat Shit look, in a caring and kind way, and said "But he's already abandoned his job five or six times according to that standard. Why does Tuesday matter?" And the HeadCheese of HR said that he had a new agreement with LaZBoy starting on Monday. I asked if that agreement was that he would come to work. Yes, was the reply. I asked how that was different than the old agreement. Then I shut up before I started shooting blood from my eyes.

So that was the first trip to the dungeon. The second was related to a hilarious incident that occurred last Thursday wherein I was trying to get our two newest team members, Tweedledum and Tweedledumber, to do some work. I outlined a bunch of crap on my whiteboard using several different colors for emphasis, then listed a shitload of tasks that need to be done yesterday, and started putting names next to tasks. I assigned a PowerPoint presentation to T-dumber and some other writing to T-dum. Later that day they came to me and told me that they (they work in a hive of two) didn't know how to use PowerPoint and couldn't do the presentation. we went round and round about this for about 5 minutes, I got sick of it and said I'd do it myself. They spouted a lot of other crap about being pushed to the side and I told them that I had put a big list of tasks on the board and they could have as many of them as they wanted, but then they said they would be on vacation for the next week.

I told the captain this tale a few days later after going home that Thursday night and drinking away the pain of the words "I don't know how to use PowerPoint." So of course, they denied having told me that plus made up some other crap, but what they didn't know was that the actual work that they did turn in was plagiarized from a published document. And I found the source. Can you say fucked? I knew that you could.

So there was a lot of whining on their part about how they didn't know stuff and a lot of yelling of "That's not acceptable!" on mine.

So that was fun. I'm sure the story's not over yet, either.

Happy New Year!

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