Yesterday? Yesterday was not a good day

First off - close to three months without a post? Me and my fellow board members are filthy, useless bastards.

Now - I want to tell you a story about how much yesterday sucked for me. I'm not whining here - I simply want to inform you about how impressed I was by how horrendous it was. It started off with brunch...while I was eating, I wasn't feeling too good, but I felt it would pass. Because I've been out of the country for a month, I then went to go and pick up my car, from the home of our JTC stenographer who had thoughtfully allowed me to park it there while I was away. (This is a little off-topic, but I can't help but think that we should have picked a stenographer that wasn't graphophobic - it really affects her work.) It should also be noted that because of my time away, my sleep patterns are pretty screwed up right now, and I felt really jet-lagged.

The car took a while to start, but eventually I was on my way. Still not feeling well, my CHP suggested that we stop in at the swanky shopping mall of Bayview Village. After taking close to 20 minutes to find a parking spot, as I parked, the car died, and wouldn't start. Awesome. Owing to the pressure in my lower intestine, I quickly went down to the mall to find a bathroom, where I promptly began peeing out of my ass.

To summarize:
- jet-lagged.
- feeling like shit.
- car won't start.
- peeing out of my ass in a mall bathroom.

HFS. Anyhoo, we eventually got the good people from CAA to come and help us out (although the first guy said it was our alternator, not our battery and called a tow truck....the tow truck guy proved it was the battery), and then I went and got a new car battery installed. It was a hell of a way to spend a Saturday, let me tell you.

It's good to be back,
JohnnyM

WTF Is Up With Adults And Halloween?

You know - I don't mind Halloween. I really don't. I think it's fun for kids, and I enjoy eating all the candy leftovers. Hell - I even enjoy carving pumpkins, when you get right down to it. But what blows my fucking mind is when adults decide that they're going to get dressed up in costumes. It's just so goddamned weird.

But there are levels to this. I mean, I'd rather jam something in my eye than go to a Halloween party, but at least it's a party. When you show up looking like an idiot, you can just drink yourself into oblivion (and make yourself look like more of an idiot.) But what about the peeps who decide to wear costumes to WORK? Holy. Fucking. Shit.

On the subway this morning, I was standing across the platform from a dude, dressed like a pirate, reading a newspaper. What on earth is going through that guy's head when he's kissing the wife and kids goodbye and taking one last look in the mirror?
"Should have gone with the live parrot"?
"Wonder if I'm going to get that promotion"?
"Holy shit - I'm dressed like a pirate"?

It got more interesting once I got downtown. There were quite a few peeps who were in costumes. My favourite though is the people who I can't tell if they're dressed up or not. I mean - you're either walking around your workplace in a costume, or you can't dress yourself properly. Either way, I think it's likely time to take a good, long look in the mirror. Unless you're dressed like a pirate.

Arrrrrrrrrrrr....

More Band Names

It's been a while since we've posted anything - sorry about that. What better way to get things going again, than some good, old-fashioned band names? Here you go:

“Just The People With Butlers!”
“MS Outlook Acumen”
"Hep A Booster"
"Breast Obsession"
"Lavender Jelly"
“David O's Homemade Treats”
"The Slums Of Calcutta"
"Literary Equivalent of Masturbation"
“The Obese Felines”
"Ditch The Kids"
“Sweet Booze”
“Yeast Infection Chicks”
“Fucking Fat Farm”
“Drunk Art Appreciation”
“Cakes and Crutches”

Anybody can write the music...it's the band name that's key.

Iraq Me, Dave Petraeus

For anyone who though yesterday's post was a little nuts, I'll have you know it was good enough for the writer's at the Daily Show, who did the same thing in last night's show (the Amadeus take on "Iraq Me, Dave Petraeus" - produced and aired AFTER mine was published).

I was totally not smoking anything

This weird day dream I had is inspired by the classic Simpson's musical, and the recent meeting of the Armed Services Committee of the United States Senate.

The part of 'apes' was played by the United States Senators, the 'lone female nurse ape' by Hilary Clinton, the part of 'Troy McClure' by America's ambassador to Iraq, Ryan Crocker, and the part of Dr. Zaius by General David Howell Petraeus of the United States Army, whom you might recognize from battles such as Operation Iraqi Freedom, Operation Restore Democracy and Operation Desert Spring.

Senators: Help us, we're spending $1 trillion and losing thousands of American lives to create a new al-Qaeda base in Iraq!
Crocker: Get your paws off me, you dirty apes.
Senators: [gasping] He can talk!

Senators: [in unison, rythmed] He can talk
He can talk
He can talk
He can talk
He can talk
He can talk

Crocker: [singing] I can siiiiiing!

[funky beat of "Rock Me Amadeus" starts playing]

Clinton: Ooh, help me General Petreaus!
Senators: [in unison] General Petreaus, General Petreaus
General Petreaus, General Petreaus
General Petreaus, General Petreaus
Oh... General Petreaus

Crocker: What's wrong with me?
Petreaus: I think you're crazy.
Crocker: Want a second opinion.
Petreaus: You're also lazy.

Senators: [in unison] General Petreaus, General Petreaus
General Petreaus, General Petreaus
General Petreaus, General Petreaus

[one Senator starts breakdancing]

Oh... General Petreaus

Band Names, Volume II

As previously reported, during the discourse of JTC board meetings and/or emails, a phrase is sometimes used that would qualify and someone comments “Hey, that would make a great band name!”. Again, if for purposes of record only, please find the following catalogue of band names since our last update:

Dogs and Trains
Shoot Up The Fucking Cat
Grinning and the Exposed Ankles
Proxy Recipient
Flight opportunity
Mama MFP
Junkie Cat
Breastmilk White Russian
The Milk Machine
Slut Dressing
Colon baggies
One Trick Pony
Thinly Veiled Sexual References
Women's Emergent Needs
Horny for Summerhill
No pillow fights, no operas
CASTLE FRANK IS NEXT!
Zese baby pools
Allegations of polygamy
Being Overly Ornery
Breaking Out The Ark
Stay For The Booze
Latent Homosexual Tendencies
Tee Freaks At The Y

The chronicle of the traveling pants

The saga has come to an end, with Coco coming out on top and with a brand new pair of pants. I probably could've taken Gehan to task with the horrendous spelling in the last email, but I opted to end it quietly instead.

-----Original Message-----
From: Bernice Heard
Sent: Wednesday, August 22, 2007 4:35 AM
To: Monkey, Coco T.
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

Ok you win! Can’t have you destroying the planet due to my liking for fine Canadian tailoring! The issue will be resolved today.

(please note that the banter is not of my usual high customer relations standards;-) )

Have yourself a lovely evening.

Bernice Heard
Customer Relations Manager

Please consider the environment - do you really need to print this email?

-----Original Message-----
From: Gehan Eriyagama
Sent: Wednesday, August 22, 2007 11:52 AM
To: Monkey, Coco T.
Cc: Bernice Heard
Subject: Laundry

Dear Mr Monkey,

Please firstly let me apologise for the inconvenience you have suffered regarding the wait for your pants. I can promise you this is not the service we usually offer to our guests. I am committed to resolving this situation as fast as possible. Could you please confirm some details with me to help speed up the process.

What colour were the pants?
What make were the pants?
Who collected the pants from your room?

Thank you for your assistance and patience Mr Monkey. I will endeavour to put a close to this matter ASAP.

Kind Regards Gehan

-----Original Message-----
From: Monkey, Coco T.
Sent: Wednesday, August 22, 2007 3:47 PM
To: Gehan Eriyagama
Cc: Bernice Heard
Subject: RE: Laundry

Dear Gehan,

I’ve come to realize that the subject garment is definitely not a pair of “pants”, per your regional dialect, but is rather a pair of ‘trousers’. They are a green colour – I’d put the shade somewhere in between “I can’t believe you lost my pants olive” and “I wonder how often you guys screw up like this forest”.

They are made by Banana Republic, which is a subsidiary of Gap Inc., not a Latin American country that is politically unstable, dependent on limited agriculture, and ruled by a small, self-elected, wealthy and corrupt clique.

Due to the urgency in which I needed the pantaloons returned, I was instructed to drop them off at the front desk in a hotel-provided garment bag (which might as well have been a body bag for trousers, evidently). I’m assuming they were put out with the trash.

After reading your questions, I’d rate myself as “concerned”, “frustrated”, and “ruggedly handsome”.

If the hotel doesn’t know where the trousers are, why would the hotel wait weeks to respond to my calls and emails? We were hoping the problem, ie. the owner of said trousers, would just go away?

I can assure you, Ms. Gehan, this is definitely not the case.

Coco

-----Original Message-----
From: Gehan Eriyagama
Sent: Friday, August 24, 2007 6:54 AM
To: Monkey, Coco T.
Cc: Bernice Heard
Subject: RE: Laundry

Hi Coco,

Unfortunately I can not find your trousers, I hold my hands up as we are at fault. I would like to pay for a replacement pair. Could you buy a new pair and either scan the receipt and email it to me or post it to me on the below address.

The Paramount Carlton Hotel
North Bridge
Edinburgh
Scotland
EH1 1 SD

If you pass your credit card details to me I will have the amount refunded to your card. Thanks Coco for your patients and understanding. I apologise for any inconvenience and will try and resolve this from my end as fast as possible,

Thanks again Gehan

Caught with my pants down

As previously reported, The Carlton hotel in Edinburgh lost a valued pair of pants. My follow up activities with the hotel are getting interesting, so I thought I'd share my progress. Below is the thread to date, unedited (save names and email addresses). I've put the thread in chronological order. More updates will be posted as they become available.

-----Original Message-----
From: Monkey, Coco T.
Sent: Tuesday, August 14, 2007 5:30 PM
To: 'Carlton Reservations'
Cc: 'stay@paramount-hotels.co.uk'
Subject: Missing Laundry
Importance: High

To Whom It May Concern:

I stayed at the Paramount Carlton in Edinburgh for the nights of July 30th and 31st (room 235). I put a pair of pants in the laundry service on arrival, and found the next day that they had not come back from the service and I wouldn't have them before flying out of Edinburgh on the 1st. I was not happy with this given I called the front desk multiple times on the 31st to confirm they were going to be back in time. I was told they would be sent by mail.

I called last Friday having still not received the pants here in Canada. I was told they did not know if they had been posted, but that they would call housekeeping and call me back by Monday. I did not hear anything.

I am not willing to spend more money on transatlantic calls to collect on a pair of pants. Can you please get the appropriate people to figure this out in short order and give me a status and expected arrival. I'm not pleased with how this situation has been handled to date.

I need someone with accountability to close this issue.

Coco

-----Original Message-----
From: Monkey, Coco T.
Sent: 17 August 2007 19:58
To: 'Carlton Reservations'
Cc: 'stay@paramount-hotels.co.uk'
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

To Whom It May Concern:

I am incredibly frustrated in that I have still not received a response to this inquiry. Please respond and find resolution to my issue as soon as possible.

Coco

-----Original Message-----
From: Bernice Heard
Sent: Monday, August 20, 2007 7:01 AM
To: Monkey, Coco T.
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

Dear Mr. Monkey,

I am writing to acknowledge receipt of your email today and I thank you for bringing your comments to our attention. Please accept my apologies for any disappointment caused.

I have requested the hotel to investigate and respond directly to you. I will closely monitor the actions taken and the outcome of the situation.

You should receive a formal response from the hotel very shortly, which I trust will resolve any queries and answer your concerns. Should you require any further assistance in the meantime or in the future, then please do not hesitate to contact me.

Yours sincerely

Bernice Heard
Customer Relations Manager

Please consider the environment - do you really need to print this email?

-----Original Message-----
From: Monkey, Coco T.
Sent: 21 August 2007 22:04
To: Bernice Heard
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

Bernice,

To clarify, I've learned that by 'pants', for you Scots, I should actually be saying 'trousers'.

Coco

-----Original Message-----
From: Bernice Heard
Sent: Tuesday, August 21, 2007 5:15 PM
To: Monkey, Coco T.
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

Dear Coco,

I hope you don't mind me saying, a few had a giggle, but we knew we were looking for trousers.

I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Best wishes,

Bernice Heard
Customer Relations Manager

Please consider the environment - do you really need to print this email?

-----Original Message-----
From: Monkey, Coco T.
Sent: 21 August 2007 22:39
To: Bernice Heard
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

Dearest Bernice,

Fair enough, but instead of giggling about my confusing underpants with slacks, perhaps you guys could, you know, actually find my trousers, and return them to me as soon as possible?!

Not to get my pants in a knot, but if you lost said knickers (which I'm assuming you did since you still have no response on the matter), I'd appreciate you coming clean on it.

At this point, I think it's fair the Carlton refund me the value of the missing britches ($100 CAD, about 50 quid) by way of cash reversal on my visa.

At the risk of lodging legging-related threats, without any remuneration for what is ultimately the Carlton's inability to clean and return a pair of longies, I will have to resort to exercising my only avenue of retaliation and post an unfavorable review of your hotel on widely-used tourist websites.

My legs and I are not looking forward to a Canadian winter without my pantaloons.

Regards,
Coco

----- Original Message -----
From: Bernice Heard
To: Monkey, Coco T.
Sent: Tue Aug 21 17:39:32 2007
Subject: RE: Missing Laundry

Dear Coco,

No disrespected intended, I have been out of the office for a couple of days, but will be back on Thursday. I am not based at the Carlton, for if I was this would have been sorted out ages ago.

I will look into finding your pantaloons in the morning again or as suggested that we get you a new pair for those legs we don't want getting cold.

Have a lovely day,

Bernice Heard
Customer Relations Manager

Please consider the environment - do you really need to print this email?

----- Original Message -----
From: Monkey, Coco T.
To: Bernice Heard
Sent: Tue Aug 21 19:31:54 2007
Subject: Re: Missing Laundry

Bernice, you cunning adversary,

Not basing yourself at the Carlton and taking the hostage longjohns away from the scene of the crime was a brilliant move, but you have no idea what you are up against. Never bet against a Canadian when pants (REAL pants) are on the line.

If I do not receive a picture of the poor legwarmers shown with a copy of today's Scotsman (so I know there isn't any funny business going on) within 30 minutes, I will be forced to disregard your wishes and hastily destroy the environment by printing a copy of this email, and will remain doing so every half hour until the situation changes, or until deforestation's ugly son, Global Warming, forces sea level rise to do my dirty work, making Arthur's seat but an island.

Check, and mate.

Coco

Instructions for snapping

Not ours, from a friend's facebook post, but I felt it was so good it warranted posting. The first two comments on the page are fucking fantastic.

We Like To TIA. Don't Like It? WTF? GFY!

We here at JTC (Jump To Conclusions) have a habit of doing a lot of TIA (talking in acronyms). For that reason, I felt it would be good to explain to you - our loyal reader(s) - what some of our favourite acronyms mean, so that you too can exchange "HFS" e-mail flurries with your friends and family. Here you go:

CHP - Co-Habitational Partner

You live together. You get to see each other naked. Perfect.

GFY - Go Fuck Yourself

Usually used in response to a "Why am I the only one posting on the blog?" e-mail. Frequently used as an e-mail sign-off - e.g. "GFY, JohnnyM"

GTH - Gun To Head

Used when discussing an upcoming meeting or task that will likely be excruciating - e.g. "I have an all day meeting booked with those technology guys. GTH." Frequently used in association with the following clipart:

GYEA - Greater Yonge and Eglinton Area

Prior to us all working downtown, a common meeting area for the JTC Board of Directors. Location where many of our most brilliant ideas (Human Style, anyone?) were created. Spending too much time in this area can frequently result in raging hangovers.

HFS - Holy Fucking Shit

Used to express surprise. Usually, it's not good news.

SIUYA - Shove It Up Your Ass

Used to express irritation. Can be used in conjunction with GFY.

WTF? - What The Fuck?

Used when one is feeling incredulous towards a situation - e.g. "WTF? Is someone having sex in that car?"

*F* - (First initial) Fucking (Last Initial)

Used as a code to describe hated co-workers. For example - you work with an asshole named John Smith? No you don't - you work with JFS. Considered unbreakable by most modern cryptologists.

Please feel free to start using these acronyms liberally, and leave us some comments if you see any glaring omissions. Of course, we'll probably tell you to SIUYA.

Sex in a Car

Step #1: Open the car door
Step #2: Get in the car
Step#3: Start having sex

For you JTC aficionados out there, I would like to consider this post a sequel of sorts to Co-Co's classic "Condom Conundrum" post.

As many (both) of you know, each August, the area of Toronto in which I live hosts a quiet little festival called "Taste of the Danforth". Here's a picture of a few of the festival goers to give you an idea of what's going on:


Alright - so in reality, it's fucking teeming with peeps. Overflowing. And when you get that many people in a small area, there's bound to be some weird shit going down. Like last year, when someone stole a car, realized you couldn't drive through a million people, so turned onto my street, and hit my neighbour's house.

This year, me and the CHP decided that we were going to leave town for the weekend, to escape the madness, but because we're whores for Greek food, return on Sunday evening to catch the end of the event. When we returned to Toronto, we naturally couldn't find a parking spot in front of our house, so parked a couple of blocks away. As I was walking around the side of our house, unloading the car, my CHP suddenly started urgently calling my name. When I asked her what was up, she responded:

"There's someone having sex in their car directly in front of our house!"

This is not a sentence I hear every day. So I walked out to the porch, and sure enough - there were two peeps going at it in their Civic approximately 2 feet from the edge of my front lawn. I honestly didn't know how to react. Should I be outraged? Angry? In reality, I was fairly amused, and quite entertained. Similar emotions seemed to be felt by my 80 year old Greek lady neighbour, who was out on her porch enjoying the hot action.

OPA!

I have misplaced my pants

So a few weeks ago I arrived in Edinburgh with the CHP after several days of hiking in the Scottish highlands, which, when travelling with a limited wardrobe, can really bring home the stink. As a result, I was looking forward to abusing the laundry service at the snazzy hotel I scored on Priceline with my rancid unmentionables.

One of the foul mentionables I handed over included a pair of pants - pants which I had planned on wearing at my next few stops in Italy. The hotel missed the 24 hour turnaround on the laundry and I had to fly out of Edinburgh without them, but with a promise from the concierge that they would be posted to my address in Canada. I said "thanks a lot, you fucking fannies", flipped him the reverse-peace-sign and kicked in a window on my way out*.

Not having received to date said pants has enraged me to the point of writing the hotel a formal complaint. While the complaint itself is not so comedic, nor is the series of events, I just wanted to share some heckling prose I just received from my CHP, who really has no concern whatsoever for my pants:

Ode to My Pants

Two legs, button,
Zipper runs straight,
Soft brown caresses,
Legs its' mate.

I packed you away,
To join my fun.
Now lost forever,
What have I done?

Oh pants - I miss you.

*Note in Scotland this sequence of events would have closely matched regular custom. In reality, I actually stuck to Canadian custom, which is to pussy out of any confrontation whatsoever and show your dissatisfaction by only being midly polite - oh man, that'll teach them.

Holy shit - I haven't posted in over 2 months

Do you know that I haven't posted in over two months? Of course you do - you check the blog every day looking for your JohnnyM fix. Oh sure, CoCo has posted a few times, but let's face facts - he's trash.

Why haven't I posted in so long? Well, the reasons are numerous, but suffice to say that I've been out of the country. Fighting crime. And saving puppies.

What have I been doing with my summer? Well, let's see...I went to Scotland for two weeks. Partially because I was going to my cousin's wedding, but also to get away from yet another summer of violence on the mean streets of Toronto. In Scotland, I was greeted by peace, serenity, and a blown up terminal building:

One of the people at Glasgow airport who helped to take down one of the would-be terrorists was a baggage handler by the name of John Smeaton, who has turned into a bit of a folk hero. He has several web sites now dedicated to him, including http://www.johnsmeaton.com/. What's funny is that the first time I saw that URL, I thought that it might be a porn site dedicated to yours truly, because I read it as "john's meat on". Note to self - I need to start that porn site dedicated to myself before someone else does.

After I returned to Canada, I really have been doing fuck-all. I went to go and see the new Transformers and Harry Potter movies, because apparently, I'm a 15 year old boy. This past week, I decided that my life really wasn't hard enough, so I signed up to take part in Ironman Lake Placid next July. This will necessitate a steep decrease in my alcohol consumption, which will likely result in a fewer posts that are...you know...funny (not that I've been doing much of that lately), and a corresponding increase in posts about such fascinating topics as wetsuits, tire pressure, tubulars vs. clinchers, race nutrition, body glide, transition times, contents of special needs bagszzzzzzzz....

That said, I can't really miss the offical JTC pub crawls, so for those who have been asking, the next "cornerstone" event on the JTC calendar is happening on Sunday, November 11th, where we honour those who have died in wars protecting our freedom. Our freedom to get hammered.

Quantity - not quality,

JohnnyM

What kind of entendre said I. Double she said, so Double I did.

Given my 'colleagues' aren't really doing any 'work' for our fake 'company', and hence we have no 'posts', I thought of something to fill some space. Quantity, quality - whatever.

A few years back JohnnyM and I were in New York state on a business trip, in the magical town called Binghamton. It was a real shit hole, but oddly enough has a storied history:

• From 1923 to 1927 Binghamton was the Northeast headquarters of the Ku Klux Klan.
• The concentration of the defense industry in the town during the cold war made it the seventh most likely area in the nation for a nuclear attack.
• With 6 historic wooden carousels, Binghamton boasts itself as the carousel capital of the world.
• And finally, Unlike most small American cities, Downtown Binghamton still has a full-sized department store.

Which leads me to the real reason for writing this post. While we were there, drinking in a local watering hole, the band that had been playing the requisite honky tonk shit all night suddenly broke out into this classic song, "I Used to Work in Chicago". It's now one of my favorite songs in the world. It goes like this:

I used to work in Chicago, in a department store.

I used to work in Chicago, but I don't work there anymore.

A woman asked for some gloves, "What kind of gloves, said I",

"Rubber" she said, so rub her I did.

I don't work there anymore.

The reason it's so goddamn funny is the permutations. When the song is sung, and the request word is sung (ie. "Gloves"), you are already laughing waiting for how it will be used. For instance, here is a short list of other permutations I recall:

tools, hammer she wanted, and nailed she got

drinks, liquor she wanted, and lick her I did

hardware, bolts she wanted, and my nuts she got

German airplane, Fokker she wanted, and fokker I did

A quick scan of the net shows some people have taken this to extremes, with some outright classics:

lobster thermidor she wanted, creamed clam she got

German method of coal extraction she wanted, mine shaft she got

translator she wanted, cunning linguist she got

diamond choker she wanted, pearl necklace she got

Some Shakespeare she wanted, Dickens she got!

As you can see it's quite a creative opportunity.

Well, that's really it, just wanted to share that fucking awesome song with you. Also, through writing this post, I've also been able to determine that Wikipedia is probably better than most real encyclopedias, and from the facts available there, I learned a lot about why Binghamton sucked so much ass. Also, I finally got to use Ku Klux Klan in a post. It's been a long time coming.

Tourists: Trapped

In a couple of weeks I am flying in to Pisa, Italy, and promptly taking a train straight out of the city, forgoing the classic Tuscan sites around the field of miracles (such as the leaning tower). My decision is in part due to having been there before, but more importantly, I want to do whatever possible to avoid witnessing this horrendous scene again:

Here's Your Goddamn Post, Co-Co

Last week, I attended a conference for work (my real job - not a conference for hilarious bloggers. Unfortunately.) I sent an e-mail to update my fellow Board of Directors of JTC regarding the conference, which included the following nugget:

"Also going on at the same hotel? The 17th Annual Canadian Breastfeeding conference. I shit you not. Let's just say there are not a lot of males attending that one. And seriously - "17th Annual"?!? "

I then received the following response from a certain "Co-Co The Monkey":

"I am fucking irate. There is material for at least 2-3 outstanding potential blog entries here. I mean, come on - we’re trying to run a fucking fake company here.

'Ok everyone, thanks for coming, and welcome to the first annual Canadian Breastfeeding Conference! I am so excited to be here, it’s been a long road. Finally Canada has a stake in the ground amongst breastfeeding conferences around the world. I’m especially excited about this year’s theme, ‘Tits out!’. We have some tremendous speakers, and I encourage you to consult the program and get your tickets early - they are going quickly. I’d like to point you to page 6 of the program, which briefly outlines Saturday’s closing events, including our keynote speaker, Deloris Abrams, who will be speaking about the challenges of public feeding and will be singing copies of her latest book ‘Booby trapped: public space versus natural needs’. I hope you all have a great weekend at the conference, and don’t forget to stop by our featured sponsor’s booth, Mother’s Milkers, for a free trial breast pump - you’ll never go back to a generic pump again.'

COME ON!"

I'm a posting machine,
JohnnyM

Time for another HR Card

It's been a while, so here you go, suckers:

You know what's funny? The majority of e-Moron and HR cards are inspired by real life events. THAT'S funny.

Our 100th Post!

Well, we've now crossed the mythical barrier that so many other blogs fail to reach by making our 100th posting. To get to 100 posts, you need a certain blend of style, work ethic, humour, alcoholism and rugged good looks. Fortunately, we have all of these in abundance.

In no particular order, we'd like to thank:
- the internet
- God
- Moosehead
- Kilkenny
- The Leafs
- The Raptors (damn you, Nets!)
- our unintentionally hilarious co-workers
- assholes on the TTC
- the makers of Moleskin notebooks
- IKEA
- man made prisons
- Co-Habitational partners (CHPs)
- JTC cornerstone events
- the Y
- the T
- acronyms

By the way reader(s), do you remember back when people used to actually comment on our posts? I do. It was awesome. Please start that shit up again.

Lunch: A Commitment I'm Just Not Comfortable With

About a month ago, I was invited to a work function. As I scanned the names of the people invited, I saw that a guy I went to university with was also included. I had no idea this dude worked at the same company I did (I just love corporations!), and I hadn't talked to him in the 8 years since I graduated.

Feeling much more upbeat and social than usual, I thought I would write the guy an e-mail and ask him if he'd like to go grab a coffee. E-mails were exchanged, and a mutually convenient time was picked. Then, the guy bailed on the coffee the day of, stating that he was ill. Thinking perhaps that he really had no intention of wasting 30 minutes of his life with yours truly, I told him to re-schedule our appointment at a time that was good for him. Shocking as it may be to our reader(s), it appeared that this fellow decided that he didn't want to enjoy the social ecstasy that is experienced by those who get to hang out with me, as he never replied.

Fast forward to earlier this week, when the aforementioned work function actually happened. I bumped into the guy there, and he was all, "Hey! Sorry I never got back to you on the coffee! Actually - screw coffee! Let's do LUNCH!"

Beep, beep, beep - let's back this baby up a second. I was prepared to commit to a 15 - 30 minute coffee where if the conversation lagged, I could pick up my still steaming cup, and head back to work. (And by "work", I mean "surfing the net".) If a lunch goes south, you're completely fucking trapped. I mean, if the appetizers come, and this dude starts breaking out pictures of the wife and kids and droning on about some mundane shit, it's not like I'm going to pick up my bowl of soup, and say, "Let's do this again real soon!" as I'm walking out.

Shit. And the guy actually booked the lunch too. I think it's next week. I'm fucking terrified.

A Foreign Discussion on the Flu

So I woke up this morning feeling like shit, and my co-habitational partner asked if I was staying home.

CHP: “You’re not feeling well? What’s wrong?”
Coco: “Well, I think I’m hot blooded. Here - check it and see,” (passes over thermometer) “I got a fever of a hundred and three.”
CHP: “Come on baby, do you do more than dance?”
Coco: “What?”
CHP: “I’m hot blooded, I’m hot blooded!”
Coco: “Are you making fun of me?”
CHP: “Now it’s up to you, we can make a secret rendezvous.”
Coco: “Where – I don’t really feel like leaving the house.”
CHP: “Just me and you, I’ll show you lovin’ like you never knew.”
Coco: “You don’t understand – I really don’t feel like it. Because I’m hot blooded. Check it and see.”
CHP: “If it feels alright, maybe you can stay all night.”
Coco: “Well, I’m staying home from work today for sure.”
CHP: “Shall I leave you my key?”
Coco: “Sure, but I’ll be upstairs in bed, so when you get home, you’ve got to give me a sign, come on girl, some kind of sign.”
CHP: “Is my timing right? did you save your love for me tonight?”
Coco: “Yeah. I’m hot blooded, check it and see. Feel the fever burning inside of me.”