28 December 2006

Well, then.

No posts for two months. That should prove: 1). I am adhering to the plea agreement, and 2). The new firewall at work effectively blocks any Blogspot site.

Not that I feel there is anything wrong with this. A successful company really can’t have its employees spending half of the day porn surfing, now can it?

Anyway, I was told this by an indignant Über Manager from the Mother-ship (Corporate HQ). He went on to inform me that my computer had been used to access a porn site during business hours.

Well it had, but it was a simple mistake. You see, I was looking for Allied Electronics’ web site and accidentally transposed a couple of letters. Next thing I was at “Huge-Titties.com”. It could have happened to anyone.

“But you were there for four hours!” Sniffed the corporate Nabob.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t notice at first. First there was the unfortunate misspelling of ‘Circuit Broad’, which seemed to fixate the silly machine on electrical dominatricies. I thought the computer had a virus. Then I searched for ‘Industrial Transformer’ and was shown something no one should ever have to see. ‘Robots, well something in disguise’. Definitely not the sort of thing one would feel comfortable attaching wires to. It was then that I realized that I was at the wrong website.”

The return sniff was less assured. It was time to go on the offensive. “Besides, it’s not like I spent the entire week viewing ‘Mary-Kate and Ashley’ porn like Irish Bob!”

It’s true. They make me Bilious. For years they’ve been these sweet kids and the minute the turned street legal transformed themselves into tarted up ho-wannabes. For God’s sake they look like two Kowloon prostitutes* that have spent the afternoon mud wrestling on Tammy Faye Baker’s face. Not sexy at all, especially when your mental image of them is as little kids. Irish Bob should be arrested.


Now, don't get me wrong about Tammy Faye Baker. I’m not knocking her. She represents over 40% of the US strategic cosmetics reserve. If we are ever forced to go to war with France, she alone will insure that all those Goth kids are happily supplied with all the cosmetics they need.

Well, less unhappy then. Happy that they can express their crushing despondency through the medium of pancake base and eyeliner.

* I was once propositioned by two Kowloon prostitutes. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so they both looked about twelve. “No way!” I said. “You’re both way too young. Now your older sister over there…”

“That’s Cheng, our Pimp. He’s not our sister!” They replied, laughing hysterically.

“Really?” I squinted at him. “My mistake. From a distance it looks like he’s got a nice pair of Allied Electronics, you know.”


And that's the way I likes it.