Gost Writer - Wheels of Contention

First of all let me say how excited I am to be a ghost writer. Ever since I saw that show on PBS I have thought to myself, “Could there be a better job than helping kids solve mysteries by providing clues to riddles”? I think not; however I recently realized that one of the kids on the show turned out to be gay (not that there is anything wrong with that). But I can’t help but think that may have had a little something to do with his decision. (Well that and the fact that his name is Willie).

Anyhow, let’s get down to business. Last night I was doing a little shopping at the Target and was leaving the check out counter when a younger female ran into me. Let me be more specific, she skated into me. That’s right she had on (in my opinion) one of the worst inventions created by mankind………The Wheelie shoe.

After giving her the “oh no you didn’t” look, this young gal decided to walk/skate off as if nothing ever happened.

1) Is the next generation that lazy that they can’t walk to school, or to the produce section at Target? If you need wheels to get around in the grocery store, go borrow one of those scooters. Believe me they work fine, I have used them several times.
2) My Spawn will never own a pair of these shoes. Sure I owned a pair of roller skates growing up, but when I wanted to go wheeling around, I did it at the Freaking 49th Street Galleria with other prepubescent children, and creepy old men that still thought it was the 70’s, but had a fond attachment to the song footloose.
3) These things scare me. The first time I saw someone gliding across a floor at the mall, I thought that I had got some bad mushrooms from Pioneer Park. Human beings walk, run, or jog, we DO NOT glide.
4) These shoes discriminate against the elderly or people with a shoe size bigger than 7. If these shoes we sooooooooo cool, why don’t adults use them? The last time I checked, the Dali Lama, Pope Benedict, and Matt Lauer do not use them, so why should I?
5) Why hasn’t this fad passed? I was only able to wear my parachute pants and slap bracelets for about 5 minutes, while the little brats that run into me have had these damn things for close to five years.
6) If they are going to be permanently adopted by society, can we at least make people say “go go gadget shoes”?

Thanks for allowing me to vent. Don’t worry though; I will be fine with a little help from my friend Mr. Zoloff, some group counseling, and a few hours of ghost writer season 2 now available on dvd.

Ah, the pressure to be cool. . .

This was by far the funniest conversation I've had in a long time. I have been asked to change the name of the other party involved just for protection purposes. Said party has recently agreed to make occasional "ghost writer" posts to the blog, for which I am very excited because their humor MUST be shared.

Sidenote: sections of the conversation not affecting the outcome of said conversation may have been omitted or condensed for room's sake and really, to add to the overall humor of this conversation.

GW: I am just trying to rebrand myself. I need to be a little more edgier.

Carlee: I don't know that the things we've talked about qualify as 'edgy'?

GW: I am also into Elmo.

Carlee: Wow

GW: I mean Emo
GW: My church class is teaching me how to be cool.

Carlee: 8 year olds?

GW: I teach the 15-16 year old class.
GW: Curtting is in.
GW: So is facebook.
GW: and myspace.
GW: But myspace is more for the molesters.

There was so much more to this but for the sake of time, I'll end it there, on that solid note. Thanks Ghost Writer for the commentary. Can't wait to see what develops from this!

Did I really just see that?

Either someone has the worst functioning colon/stomach in addition to having quite possibly the worst aim ever (you think you know where this is going, but you don't) or someone was having their lunch in the bathroom. That's right folks, I just saw a full, one-inch piece of french fry on the bathroom floor about a foot in front of the toilet.

I don't know which is worse - no digestive breakdown accompanied with bad aim or someone "lovin' it" in the bathroom over a carton of fries?

All I have to say is gross. Bada bup ba ba. . .

That dreaded table. . .

So, some time ago our company decided to "give a little something to the employees" and purchased a pool table, foosball table and a ping pong table. They were hoping that it would distract us from the hopeless monotony of our jobs - aka "We are getting the tables as a way for you to take a break and release stress." Like I said, hopeless monotony.

Anyway, the tables have become a little bit of an anger point for several of us. . . i.e. (loving the acronyms today) the ones of us that have been here working until after 6:30 more than once this week. Release stress, yes, good idea. Train for the Olympic ping pong team, not so good. There are people that are spending over an hour out there on a daily basis and it's starting to really tick me off. So much so that I may hide the paddles, sticks and ping pong balls that are necessary to play these games.

Case and point: I walked through the shop today at 9:30 (for all of you readers out there, that is 1 hour after we technically open our doors (like anyone is here at that time) but 2 1/2 hours after I arrived this morning, again, catching up on work) and I heard a familiar sound of a plastic ball making contact with a table, a paddle, a table, a paddle. . . I almost raged! You have been here for no more than an hour and you already need a break? Are you kidding me? It took me longer to drive to work this morning than you have been here and already need a ping pong break. If you're that dedicated, maybe you should quit your job and join a league? I've included a flier in case you are interested. SOOO over it!

For My Mom!

She probably doesn't even read this trash that I write but I thought I would post this anyway - a tribute to mom's everywhere, but especially mine. I don't know why I found this so amusing, but I did!

It finally happened. . .

What kind of world would take two kids away from their underwear-missing, head-shaving, alcohol-drinking, millionaire mom and give them to their corn-row-wearing, white-boy-rapping, gold-chain-sporting, dead-beat dad? THIS kind of world!!!

http://omg.yahoo.com/spears-ordered-to-give-kids-to-federline/news/2792

Sorry Britt. . . you lost. And bad. You lost to K-Fed which really, says absolutely nothing for you. You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting in comparison to the sickest person alive! Ok, the second sickest.

Who would have thought?