Sewing Your Eyes Shut Is So 1988
6/28/1

I want to write a funny Stuffo, but too much unfunny stuff keeps happening. I�m not talking morose stuff happening, just stuff that makes you think. Not �things that make you go hmm��

I can�t believe I did that. Wasn�t that some song from Freedom Williams and some other people back in Nineteen Eighty-Stupid? I don�t remember their first song, but I do remember that I like �Pump Up The Volume� by some band that isn�t them. But not the movie, I�ve not seen the movie, but my handlers say that I wouldn�t like it.

I really want to see the Star Trek Voyager episode with Andy Dick in it.

Aisai was lowering her IQ by watching sitcoms while she cooked last night. At least it wasn�t Home Improvement. She now denies that she ever watched that when she was cooking back at our last apartment.

Well, not to give any of the mysteries of where I work away, but yesterday I fought with a very simple machine. It has two parts that can be replaced, one that can be cleaned. I knew that the easy to change part had been changed last week, but it wasn�t working. So the very difficult and nasty to clean part was examined. Yuck. I cleaned it. It still didn�t work. I replaced the easy to replace part. No dice. Then I had to go back to the office to get the hard to replace part. I was told then that the hard to replace part often gets a little micro-hole in it. Lovely. I replace it.

Now, that event is over, right? No. I forgot to calibrate it with the new parts so it trashed the place. Grr.

When I was filling out chain of custody forms in the lab, the fellow who is in charge of our concession fund was in there allergy wheezing. Labman and I had fun wheezing every once in a while. The Concession Godfather is easily irritated and mostly harmless. Good office fun.

In ten minutes, I�ll go to the copy place and pick up the documents for The Powers Who Are More Powerful Than The Powers That Be. This year, rather than the burgundy binding, I chose yellow. T-boss and I thought that if we had color codes for different years it would be easier for us to determine what the deal is. The Smoking Man dismissed his opportunity to look at the documents before they were sent off.

Big Politics are afoot, and I haven�t seen The Director, AKA Rat Killer, in two days.

The amount of eavesdropping at the office is interfering with my inappropriate humor. Princess Fluffy overheard a metaphor I use to imply that we are doing everything for someone. It is often used thusly: �At some point, we�ll have to stop wiping his butt for him.� But this time I had just described a phone call that I handled from a person with mold on their house. I gave the caller to the County Extension Office. I�m not sure what it�s an extension of, really. And then I went into a scorning of foolish questions, not because of the lady, but due to the kinds of calls that The Collector seems to get constantly.

Aisai�s work had a �the most� voting thing. Aisai was voted Most Inelectual at her work. They always do dorky stuff at The Underground Lair. They even have a Fun Committee. It�s called that too. Unless someone calls it the Funk-o-mittee, which is rare, I believe.

[The typo was on purpose. It�s humor.]

I know The Collector reads this. I vote him most likely to sew his eyes shut and wear a black hurricane cloak to work. And then listen to The Carpenters.