16 May 2006

“By the savagely pointed breasts of Madonna! What do these people want from us?”

Asked Irish Bob, with wildly rolling eyes. “Chill young padwan” I replied.

Oh yes, I need to pay him back, but this needs to be at a time when I can record it on video.

A little background: The CEO of our New Corporate Overlords™(LLC), is a kindly old chap who looks like Grandpa Walton, or perhaps that fat, old, oatmeal/diabetes supplies fart, Wilford Brimely.

”We shall no inundate you with our personnel.” He says. “We know how small and busy you are. We shall send only four (4) people.”

Fine. Four (4) people, we can make accommodations for. There are 10 of us here. We have room for four (4) more.

We do not have accommodations for the twelve (12) that show up. This is more people than we have in our company. I am forced to ask Bob to talk to one of the sub-groups for the day.

I would ask
Wilford Brimley to explain himself, but apparently, he is out of the office, busy shaking down his bitches on MLK boulevard and can not come to the phone.

I highly respect our new CEO.

However, this leaves me only one course of action. English is the visitors' second language, so I must explain our technology to them in Physicsese.

They are not physicists.

Nor are they are engineers.

They are accountants

Who now have migraines.

Life is good!

And that's the way I likes it.