Feeds:
Posts
Comments

I’ve been a bit under the weather. The doctor prescribed me a cough medicine with codeine.

Wrapped in a warm blanket snuggle into the depths of the sofa, the darkness had settled and with it a drowsy drugged feeling. I hadn’t coughed in almost an hour.

The light from the television pushing just enough light into the room to make out the patches on Grandma’s old quilt.

Soft elevator music played in the background while a man in the lobby of a large office building buffed the floor. A comforting fog moved into my mind.

What was the name of this movie? My mind drifted like a cloud.

A deafening crash echoed through the room as a body slams on top of a truck on the screen in front of me.

My chest was heaving my body tense, I was hardly able to process what just happened. I looked around at the people watching TV with me. They were staring at me with open mouthed amazement.

“Did I scream out loud?”

“Yeah,” my roomie replied.

I screamed like I have never screamed before. Hollywood pays people for this kind of high pitched, gut wrenching scream of terror. I tell you this so that you may learn a lesson from it. If you are taking cough medicine with codeine, do not watch a movie called Devil. I had to pray myself to sleep last night.


After hours of shopping, I was trying on slacks in a brightly lit dressing room. Finally, I found a pair that fit perfectly.  Tight enough in the right places and loose in others.

When I stepped out of the dressing room to show my friend, she said, “You have the ass that could rule the world.”

Maybe I could rule the world. I seriously considered her statement before realizing there are already enough asses ruling out there now.

When Panties Fly


203 a

It was early one spring when I found myself on a French highway between Normandy and Paris with my panties strung on a line across the back window of a silver sports car. French truck drivers, not unlike American truck drivers were quick to express their approval of my delicates flapping in the breeze as I zoomed back to Paris.

This would never have happened if I hadn’t decide liquor was more important than panties. You see I worked in Europe three weeks of every month. So naturally, I decided I could forego clothing to create luggage space for more wine and champagne.

This time my brilliance got the best of me. I found myself in the unfortunate position of being in a hotel in rural France without clean panties.

Never fear, I thought, a quick wash in the sink and they’ll be dry and ready for the flight back to the U.S. in the morning.

However, come morning my “delicates” were still wet. Not to be outwitted by panties, I grabbed a string from the hotel owner and strung it across the back window of the sports car I had rented. I set off for Paris, my windows down and my line of undies flapping behind me. Admiring truck drivers honked at me all the way back to Paris.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t calculated air speed and drag, not being of the mathematically minded. As I pulled into the car rental lot to the shocked horror of the Parisian employees, one end of the string had pulled loose and the whole string was waving like a kite high above the back of that sports car shining in the morning sun.

They found me ripping my underwear out of the back window and shoving it into my suitcase just in time to catch my flight. They didn’t even had the decency to look haughty.


3 (2)

My Boss has been curious about Twitter. His daughter has an account and he wanted to check out what she might be up to. So he created an account.

The next day he came to me and said, “I’m not sure how, but my daughter figured out I was following her.”

I asked, “What’s your user ID?”

He said, “His first and last name.”

“I think that might be the issue.”

____________________________________________

He sent me a text that said “What’s your phone number?”

I sent back, “I think you just texted it.”

____________________________________________

My boss has the same first name as someone else I know. I was going to be working late so I wrote the following email.

“Dear Tom,

I’m working late tonight. I’ll have to cancel dinner.

Love you, DD”

I accidentally sent the email to my boss, who wrote back –

“We need to finish all the test cases tonight. I’m going to pick up some pizzas.

Tom, your boss not the other one.

P.S. I love you too.”

 

I love my boss. He understands me better than most, nobody’s perfect.


tiny houses my ass

I see back issues coming on.

My Office Toilet


53 (9)

I’m sitting here on my toilet while blogging you. Not on the toilet as in its intended use toilet, but in a I don’t have any funiture kind of way.

You see I got a call on Thursday offering me a job in Portland to start on Monday and I live in Dallas. I wouldn’t be able to fly back and forth every week like I’m use to. I would need to stay in Portland for six months.

It’s a really great job and is something I want on my resume. So I spent about two hours throwing stuff in my car and took off. I drove for thirty hours got a hotel and drove another twelve to get here on Saturday. Sunday I took the first apartment I looked at and here I am sitting on the toilet, using the counter as a desk.

Don’t worry the lid is down. I know that might have been a concern for some.

I ordered some furniture which should have arrived over the weekend, but it didn’t. I got a message at 5:00 a.m. saying it will be arriving this morning. So I’m sitting here on my toilet, waiting for something to sit on.

I’m calling this office in a toilet a concept now. It’s really not so bad in here. The heat lamp is warming the place nicely. The porcelean’s bright and white. I have plenty to drink (from the faucet, not like a dog from the toilet). My shampoo and conditioner smells nice. It has pretty good accoustics thanks to the shower. I think I’m going to create a powerpoint and write a book. My new title, The Office Toilet Consultant.

Oh, thank God, the sofa’s here.

Camouflage


309 (1)

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 29,180 other followers

%d bloggers like this: