Thursday, March 26, 2015

2 Broke Girls Fan Fiction

"So there's these 2 girls.  They're broke.  It might be because they are trying to do a sitcom.  But anyway, the story as I understand it is that there's this one who is brunette and she has been brought up 'school of hard knocks' style.  Then there's a blonde who grew up rich but her dad was a criminal or something.

"Then they had to both get jobs as waitresses with the MILF (but not anymore) and Garrett Morris," said some pitch man.

The rest is history.  Or as they might say on the hit television series '2 Broke Girls,' "Herstory!"

So here's the rough draft of the fan fiction I'm going to send in to the producers of  '2 broke girls.'  I hope they use at least some of my ideas.  because they are hilarious!

I don't know their names on the show, So I'm going to call the blonde one "Blondie" and the Brunette one "Shithead"

"Ok, it's coming,"  shouted Shithead to a griping customer.  It was always the same with these extras.  While she was busy trying to come up with snappy one-liners, her tables were bitching again.

"Dyn-o-mite!"  said Garett Morris.

"Hnaw Hnaw" said the horny MILF (not so much anymore).

Then there was like this Russian cook or owner or something.  He came out from the kitchen and said to the ex-MILF, "My love for you is ticking clock.  Berserker!"

While all of the hilarity was ensuing, Travis Bickle walked in to the diner and sat at a booth in the back.  He had the whole mohawk and army jacket thing going on.

"I call him," said shithead.

"You take him. He looks like a nutcase!" said Blondie.

Shithead couldn't believe her luck. Sure, he looked a little crazy, but she liked it that way.  She knew she could charm this loser.

"Whadya have handsome?" she asked Bickle.

"You talkin' to me, shitheel?" DeNiro said.

"Shithead, actually," corrected Shithead.

"Well your dead now, bitch!"

Shithead turned to Blondie to deliver the hilarious line, "On second thought, he's all yours."  She was walking back to the counter when Travis Bickle approached her from behind and a single shot rang out. The people at the counter watched in horror as the pool of crimson spread across the front of Shithead's golden nylon uniform.

Shithead dropped to the floor.  Because she was dead.

There was a mass panic as extras took cover from the madman.

Travis Bickle calmly stepped over the body, walked to the front and slapped a quarter onto the counter.

"For the mess," he explained and walked out of the diner and into the street.

To anyone watching from outside, Travis looked just like a 1970's version of Robert DeNiro.  He shot a wry smile at an aging Cybill Shepherd.  She was wearing that same old red dress.  "Hey Betsy," he said as he raised his hand and pressed a button on a handheld remote of some kind.

When the diner exploded into a million billion pieces killing not only everyone inside who remained alive, but also all of the cast and crew and writers and cameramen and people who called in sick that day, Travis couldn't have looked more pleased.

"My hero!" exclaimed Betsy, hair blown back from the blast.  Travis took her in his arms and they lived happily ever after.


This Post FAQ

Q: So Cube - is this some sort of analogy or anagram or something for life?    

A: No.  It is not.  It's really about starting a new job.

Q: We don't get it.

A:  That's not a question.

Q: Did you really hate your old job that much?

A:  Excellent frequently asked question.  I hated it as much as anyone could ever hate a job.  But no.  Not as much as I hate the hit comedy TV series "2 Broke Girls"

Q:  Aren't you being a little ...

A:  No more questions.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

One minute of my afternoon

Today I went to an orientation for my new job that starts on Monday.  I was meeting with the orientation folks at noon to go over a bunch of information about the company.  This meeting went until about 1 PM or so.

After the meeting, I realized I needed to get some lunch.  So I went to get some lunch.  When I sat down to enjoy my tasty lunch I checked my email on my iPhone.

Tomorrow is my last day at the old company and we're trying to make sure that the people taking over my stuff know where to find it and how to use it and everything.

There was a question to me in the email about one of my services.  I decided it would be best if I answered the question right then and there instead of waiting to get back from orientation/lunch.  I had already been gone for about 2 hours at this point, so I crafted my reply.

Apple's iOS has this neat thing where when you start typing a word, it tries to guess what you're typing by context.  It's pretty good at it too.

In this message, I typed "He" and the word I wanted "Hey" was there.  After I selected it, three new words showed up for input( "I", "you", "I'm"). Siri is quite often correct about this.  I've had times where it guessed three or four words in a row correctly before I even typed anything.  The next word was "I" which Siri guessed.

So that's pretty cool.  Another cool thing is that if you're texting a person who has an iPhone, iOS tries to use "iMessage."  I don't really care if cellular or wi-fi is used, what I like is that the text balloons are a friendly blue color when you text an iPhoner.  Otherwise, they're a stupid green.  Jobs was quite the marketing genius.

But what's not cool is that Apple has iOS updates every few weeks.  It seems like every time there's an update, the predictive texting feature and the iMessage (blue balloons, remember) gets shut off.

So since I updated my phone the other day, when I was responding to the work email, I noticed I didn't get all of the time saving guesses.

I went into the settings and it was on (it always is) but the marketing genius makes you turn it off and back on again.

Next, I wanted to test it.  I had already sent the email, so I just went into "Messages" and began to compose a test message. I hit the name of a contact from my recent texts and typed "ddd"

I then accidentally sent it (corrected to "Did"):  The rest happened in less than a minute total.  Gosh, I love technology:

Thursday, March 12, 2015

The Angriest

So after many (7) years of just the most fabulous work experience a guy could hope for, it's time for me to move on.

Don't get me wrong.  I love my current job so much that I would never think of leaving under normal circumstances. Those guys at the company are a real stand up group.  I've grown and learned so much about life and the world during my tenure that it makes me go all woozy just thinking about how much I love each and every one of them.  

"If that's the case cube, why are you leaving?"


Actually, it's because of the one thing you can get free of charge just about every time you get a new job.  Free Drug Test!

Many years ago, I bought a handgun.  It was a real nice handgun.  A Kimber TLE II.  Real nice. 

I had to go downtown to the police station to register the gun.  That's the only time I have been in there.  It was quite an experience.  I was glad to have a handgun with me.

There were a lot of people there in addition to the people who worked there.  They were either visiting a loser friend or relative or bailing out a loser friend or relative.  

I was sitting there quietly waiting for my number to be called.  The woman behind the glass would be talking to somebody and somebody else would walk in and interrupt, "Yeah I came here to bail out my cousin."

"Please take a number sir,"  the woman instructed.  

"I got all the money.  I can pay now."

"Sir, please just take a number."

"That's some bullshit."

And so on.  

Finally my number was called and I then got to wait because their "Gun registration database" was down.  Whatever.  I was thinking they could just take the form I had filled out and then enter it when the "database" "comes back up"

They were thinking I could just go home and come back.  I decided to wait.
While I waited, cousin dumbass was called to the window to pay bail for cousin loser.

The lady looked up the name and said, "Ok that's $750.00"

"Holy shit,"  I thought, "this kid had $750 dollars."  I was surprised.

"$750.00!"  He said, "When I called, they said it was going to be $685.00."

Now I have never worked in any sort of law enforcement so I am unaware of the crafty fibs people often tell.  But I remember being certain the guy was lying about the $685 thing.  Then he said he thought it was really supposed to be $685.00 and the woman behind the glass was going to pocket the rest.  That didn't work out too well for him.  Jesus, people are stupid.    

So the next thing that happened was a mad scramble to scrape up the $65 dollars they were short for the bail. Cars were checked.  Friends were called.

In the end, Dumbass came up with a final offer of $722.45 or something like that.

He argued that she should take that amount and release the cousin.  She argued that "No."

So they eventually left incarcerated cousin in jail and the gun registration database "came back up" and I walked out of the police station carrying a .45 semi-automatic.

That ended up being more than I wanted to say.  Basically, the police station was full of really really stupid people.

Just like the lab where people are getting drug tested.

My appointment was for yesterday at 12:15 PM.  You can just walk in and wait if you'd like, but they "Strongly recommend" you schedule an appointment.

When I walked into the lobby of the drug test place there were 5 other people in there.  There was Anthony, Tawny and three of Tawny's children under the age of 5.  I don't know how many children Tawny has under the age of 5, but 3 of them were with her.

There was nobody at the desk/window.  Just a big sign that said "Sign In"  which I did.

Then a woman came to the window.  It was not the same woman from the police station, but I'm guessing if you can do the one, you can do the other (job - not woman).

"Tawny!" called the no nonsense voice from the other side of the window. The voice that's heard it all.

 Tawny went to the window.  Tawny is one of those people that thinks she's funny.  Like sassy/funny.  Also, she thinks people are entertained by her sass/humor, so she's loud enough for all to hear even if they are sleeping or something.

Maybe people are endeared to this disgusting woman and her ridiculous manner (Case in point: at least 3 kids under age 5).

No Nonsense said to Tawny "Will you be able to give a sample today?"

"Oh man.  Will I ever!  I ain't pissed all day!  My bladder is fin' to burst!"  She said all loud and stuff.

"Just step over to the door and I will open it for you," Said the receptionist/lab tech.

"Mama, can I come with you please," said the sweet two year old with a very hard life ahead of her.

"No you ain't comin' with me you little shit! I'm going to pee!  I don't need nobody holdin' my hand!"

"Nice," I muttered.

Two minutes later, Tawny came back out with a cup of water.  I guess her bladder wasn't quite 'fin' to burst after all.  I guess she did need to hold a hand, etc.

She drank the cup and asked for more claiming a desire to get "the show on the road."

That's when the lab tech made me want to switch jobs to lab tech.  "No!" she shouted.  "I told you, no more than 6 ounces every 30 minutes.  Maybe next time you'll learn to manage your hydration!"

Some time between when Tawny went in and out of the lab, a couple of women entered, signed in and waited.

"Anthony!" the lab tech called.

When he got to the window, she said, "I'll need to see your I.D."

"Oh shit!" said one of the newcomers,  "I didn't bring my I.D."

That's when I realized that there are plenty of reasons people get randomly drug tested.  Maybe these people really are on drugs and that's why they seem like idiots.  But I like to think they are idiots and their bosses are just hoping they are on drugs.

Now if you'll excuse me, my bladder is fin to burst.

Friday, March 06, 2015

The itch (or horrible rash)

Seven years ago tomorrow, I posted this.

It was a Friday.  I turned in my 2 week notice on that day.  I began at the company on March 24, 2008.  I begin at my new company on March 23 2015.

If you'd have told me back then that I'd make it 7 years at the company, I would have never believed you.  And I'd have been right.  6 years and 364 days.  How sweet it is.

Last year, Jack and I did some cross races.  Among our favorite was the MoO race.  Well I'm proud to say I hope to represent next year in a big way.

Thursday, March 05, 2015

I o U

I know, I know.  It's post night.  I have started this a couple of times tonight and unfortunately, both attempts were excellent.  I mean, that was really some top notch stuff there.   So good, in fact, that I decided to hang on to them until I could do them justice.  

Obviously, the stuff I normally spew out on these pages takes no more than an hour once I get going.  And that's ok.  But once in a while, the idea takes a good 65 or 70 minutes to get just right.  I just don't have that kind of time right now (I'm sleepy).  

So I'll tell you what I'll do.  I'm going to go to bed.  Then in the morning (or in a few weeks) I'll post something.  

Most likely - I will go with one of the partially developed posts from tonight.  I just need more time to make it bloody enough to be acceptable.   Thank you for understanding.