Thursday, June 11, 2009

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken

As two roads diverged
the conundrum became clear
clothed or commando?


So it looks like for my "vacation" I will be working harderer than I actually do at work, which is the shit time...

Firstly, there is a karate tournament that I must attend in the lovely town of Dalton, Georgia, about an hour Northeast of Atlanta. As no one wants to fly and I am still reeling from the body cavity search I received the last time I went to the wrong grocery store (those security guards CAN search you anywhere, anytime), we (meaning the wife and kids) decided fun would be had driving down there. The implications of this should be obvious, but just in case they are not, this means as the man I am required to drive all the way down there and back, as well as entertain them and hand service myself when everyone falls asleep on the way.

As if this didn't suck enough mancock, my wife just set up a date with our neighbors to go to Omaha my first Monday out of the box to go to the zoo. I have wanted to go to the Omaha Zoo every since I found out they have a huge aquarium (I don't know about you, but when I think Nebraska I think "beautiful sea creatures), and thusly I could not say no or "Eat my fuck", which is my current favorite retort to...well everything.

SO I know what you're thinking: "A pink tutu, then a bumblebee costume, what is next, you fat asshole?" Well first of all, you shouldn't call me fat, that makes me sad (no it doesn't, and pass me the mayo for my tater tots).

Apparently after the bumblebee, everyone now just assumes when someone turns 50 I will dress up in whatever anyone can think of and dance around at work all day like a moron. This is a completely accurate and true assumption, because I will. I have nothing to prove to anyone, I have no dignity and I had a boner the entire time I was wearing those pantyhose, which was awkward but still hot (in a totally manly way). (Editor's note: I am kidding about the boner part. I had to tuck my man-junk down one of the leggings, and it was itchy all day long. I have a newfound respect for drag queens, that was the most uncomfortable experience I have ever been through). The next person to turn 50 is the lady that made the bumblebee and tutu costumes, so a couple of us nerds walked over to see what she wanted for her birthday.

I am not sure if I told you guys or not, and you should know by now that I do little to no research, ever, but a while ago as a joke I informed the ladies in the clerk's office that the IT department was going to create a "Men of IT" swimsuit calendar, complete with sequined banana hammocks, lederhosen and tasteful chocolate starfish shots, featuring mostly myself and Tylester, who is going to be Mr. March and Mr. Oktoberfest due to his penchant for fine alcoholic beverages, such as PBR, Miller High Life and Boone's Farm box wine (it's the freshest!). None of said women let either me or Tylester forget about that, and in recent months it seems the jabs are getting less joking and more serious.

So we ask the seamstress, let's call her Carla, what she wants, and she informs me that she would be insulted if she did not get said thongs or some kind of Jackass Party Boy outfit/ Chippendale's thing. What I am wondering, is since she was not smiling, was she serious? Just in case I am going to start on a very stringent ab/ core conditioning workout to go along with my already impressive strength training, which currently is laying beneath the weight bench, crying softly while masturbating and hoping I don't get caught (don't knock it til you try it)... I am now kind of considering at least creating a calendar, tasteful yet sexy, masculine yet ready for a tender caress of feminism... great times.

Such a calendar would of course be a timeless addition to any reader's wall, both at home and at work, and a great conversation starter. Consider this:

Boss: Jenkins, do you have the- Good God, what the fuck is that on your wall?

You (Jenkins): It's the Men of IT 2010 wall calendar, chock full of hot, sweaty bods and grown men wearing diapers and snuggling with Jeremy..."

Boss: Hot damn I am so turned on right now, you are being promoted Jenkins, to Vice President!

I am assuming this is how all conversations would go...regardless of race, sex, age or religious preference, "Hot Gawd!" means the same thing to Muslims as it does Hindus and Christians...

On my way to my weekly pilgrimage to Vintage Stock this week, I also plan on stopping at a certain McDonald's for some delicious... well fuck I guess a drink Lord knows I am not eating there, though I know Smeagol stands for quality I cannot get over the idea that I might be eating some beef he had handled...

I guess that's it for now, I will get back to the Smeagol-y goodness when I can, though I really want to get some more into Greyskull and work adventures, there was a surprising amount of nudity, wrongness, and broken elevators in my professional career as a semi-retarded IT specialist, so there's that.

3 comments:

Madame Ladybug (Ady) said...

The ladies at your office have a terrific sense of humour!

Stevester said...

and very strong gag reflexes, yes.

Bill Wabbit said...

FYI - you are now officially a hit in Iraq!