Sheesh. Last night was what some native peoples used to call a three dog night, which I'm told means you need three dogs surrounding you just to stay warm.It also means that Jeremiah was a bullfrog, but I think the meaning of that phrase is lost to posterity.
It's cold as a butt here, to borrow a phrase from Mrs. Droogie. I made it to work thanks to the layer of sleet that covered the layer of snow that covered the layer of ice that covered the layer of concrete they call roads around these parts. But Mrs. D and D Jr. are at home, given that both school and day care are closed up.
There's not a lot for me to do here, as there's maybe just a dozen cars in the lot at work, so I'm writing this diary to amuse myself and hopefully you, too.
Let's see, what's in the news today...
First up, move over Hooters, there's a new wing-slinging, cleavage-bearing restaurant trying to lift money and separate clients from its competition.
The folks behind Twin Peaks (GET IT???) restaurant is hoping that sex will sell, even in a sorry economy.
"You can’t get it at home; you can’t get it at your workplace anymore. But you can get it at Twin Peaks."
Um, well... some of us actually CAN get it at home, and I never expect to get "it" at my workplace... Something tells me this guy grew up ogling the girls in the Sears catalogs..
Believe it or not, I've actually been to a Hooters before. Hey, it was a friend's birthday party and he's one of those guys who wears a lot of ironic T-shirts, so he thought it would just be the height of emo/indie self-aware cool to have a party at Hooters.
It wasn't that bad except the waitresses don't frigging shut up. Talk about hovering. I know it's their job to chat up their clients, but I wasn't even allowed to pour my own beer! She went into this elaborate beer-pouring ritual and when I said "That's OK, I can pour it myself," this statement apparently engaged the young lady's flirtation circuitry, which then got stuck on a continuous loop until I just let her at my Boulevard Wheat and sat there, sorrowfully watching her do it completely wrong.
Well, I've always been of the "Nobody's forcing them to" school of thought when it comes to jobs that require people to wear little or no clothing, but the guy behind Twin Peaks sounds like he gets his dating strategies from the guy behind "Girls Gone Wild." Somebody like that isn't anyone who should be allowed to manage workers of either sex.
Next, out of New York state, there are reports about Antonia Novello, the outgoing Surgeon General, had some, er, innovative and creative uses for the staff formerly in her employ.
The Times reports that Novello would routinely use her staff as go-fers, ordering them to shop for groceries, water her plants and pick up her dry cleaning.
On one occasion, Novello asked a health department security guard to move a heavy statue of Buddha to her apartment, later requesting that he move it again because she didn't like the way it looked where he'd put it in the first place.
Doesn't this qualify as level-jumping on a friendship? I mean, I try to be friendly with my boss and all, but there are limits. When you're friends with someone, there's a hierarchy of favors you can ask them to do for you.
Asking for help with a move is somewhere between asking to date a former fling and asking for a ride home from the airport. That's a big favor. I have a cousin who I love like the sister I never had, but she's got some heavy shit in her place. Even she could expect some groans of protest from me, asking a favor of that magnitude.
And finally, authorities in Chicagowere no doubt ashamed to admit that a 14-year-old boy managed to pass himself off as a police officer for five hours with the use of a fake uniform. His act was apparently so good that they even let him ride along in a patrol car.
The jig was eventually up, however, when officers noted that his uniform was not regulation. Police say the boy was not issued a gun, never drove the squad car on his five-hour patrol and did not issue any traffic citations. The boy is reportedly fascinated by police work.
If this kid was so interested in being a cop, why not just do what most cops do in high school and find someone like me to beat up on?
According to the story, the thing that gave him away was that his (apparently very intricate) fake uniform lacked a star that is part of the regulation uniform. THAT was what gave him away? Not the fact that he smelled like Noxema, talked about Naruto for 45 minutes straight and had a voice that creaked like a Mexican space shuttle?
And this was in Chicago? Yikes. Between this and Blago running to all the talk shows, I'm starting to think someone dumped a 55-gallon drum of stupid extract into a reservoir.
Not that I can talk, where I'm from...
See you in the comments!