Austin's Lesbo BBQ

Ha. Gottcha. I don't hate everything. That'd just be plain ridiculous. But, it was a good title for grabbing your attention, was it not?

In fact, it's hard for me to even come up with anything that I really hate...besides Avril Lavigne...and maybe people who ask me for spare change while I'm on the clock...oh, and people who desperately wave their hands in class so they can query, "Is this going to be on the test?"*...and I best not forget drivers who use their horns for punishment rather than warning (Thanks! I've really learned my lession THIS time..by the way, that's what your middle finger is for)..."baby" tees, which I call "tees for females that lack underarm sweat glands"...those who wait for parking spaces to become free when there's ample parking available, because it might just save an extra twenty feet of using the bipedalness evolution granted you....the term "well-traveled" (what the fuck does that mean?)...and...and...and...

How did I get started on this? I know I'm this cynical, but really, do I have to bore you sweet, innocent readers? All three of you...anyway.

Now...on a happier note...I'm going camping tomorrow! I feel like I have alot to get away from, although when I really think about it...I don't. But let's just play make believe...

Here, I'll start.

*Like any other fantasy/dream sequence, this should start off with that cloudy, drug-haze effect that Oprah gives all her shows...coupled with a nice horizontal wave....*

Setting: Thursday morning. 10 a.m.

Me (addressing a coworker): Geez. I'm sure glad my long weekend is about to start. I've just had the most unbelievable month. I mean, you know how it's gone, with the Mexican Consulate insisting that baby whale be a menu staple or else the entire country was going to sue for the rights to the "Mex" half of Tex-Mex...and then, just to make things worse, fucking Colin Powell calls and asks ME for a job...he claims he's sent me numerous letters regarding the open position...I don't know, I guess might have just tossed them with the rest of the junk mail...Oh, hold on one second, my Blackberry's ringing in an email and a missed call...when did this happen?

Less important coworker: If there's one thing that everyone can agree on, it's that you NEED this break. Am I right? Oh sure...I'll wait.

Me (briefing coworker on email response): Right then. It's settled. Madonna will play the office's annual Flag Day gala, but Sir Elton regrets to inform us that he'll be tardy for the occassion...he says he's prepared Neil Armstrong to do a rendition of "Rocket Man" to make up for his absense...and if that bloke know what's good for him, he'll bring those faberge egg gift baskets he promised the staff during our last brucheon...

Less important coworker: Huh. Yeeeah...IF he knows what's good for him...right?

Me: Uh....yeah. Um, you don't look like you're doing anything important...why don't you get on that research study I've had to postpone for the last few months. You know...the Terri Schiavo cryogenic egg and DNA "Right to After-life" project? Jeb's been bugging me about that for a while now...

Less important coworker: Sure, I can start it, but you know that the foundation won't listen to anyone else but you...

Me: Yes. I know this...but I think I'm going to take off early today. I have faith in you and the rest of my subordinates. Just do your best and when I get back I'll have some warm cookies for you, ok? Take messages...and if you really need me, the chopper's available 24 hours and they know where I'll be...but, please...really save it for emergencies...

Less important coworker: Certainly. You have nothing to worry about. Take off early...you truly deserve it.

Me: Jah...You're telling ME!

*fading dream sequence*

Oh. Hello again. What was that all about? Who knows....

That's it. Yet once again...I'm out. I'll be back in a few hopefully with some fun real stories to tell.



*thank God I'm not in school anymore so I don't have to hear that regularly...but still...it's a characteristic you can just see in people.