The Chump Chronicles, Part 3
Hoo boy, am I buzzed!
There was a power failure in the office this morning (no, I wasn't here, because I am always a full hour late for work). It was described to me thus: off, then on, off, on, then off, then finally on for good. So all the PC's, terminals, printers and servers were scrambled.
It is not my job to fix this stuff, but the people whose job it is don't know how, so I have been called all over the building all morning by folks who can't get their work done because, hey, their computer doesn't work. To work around the fact that I can't get MY work done while I'm fixing their stuff, they bribe me. With coffee. "Siddown! How you doin'? Have a cup of Starbucks. Hey, will you take a look at this..." So I have had like eight cups of strong joe today, and I haven't done one thing in my job description.
My last stop was in The Big Guy's office, and as I was wrapping things up there, who shows up but the NEW Regional IT Director, just going around to all the branches and introducing himself. What happened to the OLD Regional IT Director? That useless, know-nothing, do-nothing, sack of rhinoceros dung, whose father is a corporate executive? He has been promoted to NATIONAL IT Director. So he will be driving a Lexus and living in a penthouse, and I will be fixing all the computers.
At least I get all the coffee I can drink.
********************************************************
So, for the most part, it looks like my literary exploration into the psyche of the Modern Woman was not a big hit. I am chastened. I will stop.
There was a power failure in the office this morning (no, I wasn't here, because I am always a full hour late for work). It was described to me thus: off, then on, off, on, then off, then finally on for good. So all the PC's, terminals, printers and servers were scrambled.
It is not my job to fix this stuff, but the people whose job it is don't know how, so I have been called all over the building all morning by folks who can't get their work done because, hey, their computer doesn't work. To work around the fact that I can't get MY work done while I'm fixing their stuff, they bribe me. With coffee. "Siddown! How you doin'? Have a cup of Starbucks. Hey, will you take a look at this..." So I have had like eight cups of strong joe today, and I haven't done one thing in my job description.
My last stop was in The Big Guy's office, and as I was wrapping things up there, who shows up but the NEW Regional IT Director, just going around to all the branches and introducing himself. What happened to the OLD Regional IT Director? That useless, know-nothing, do-nothing, sack of rhinoceros dung, whose father is a corporate executive? He has been promoted to NATIONAL IT Director. So he will be driving a Lexus and living in a penthouse, and I will be fixing all the computers.
At least I get all the coffee I can drink.
********************************************************
So, for the most part, it looks like my literary exploration into the psyche of the Modern Woman was not a big hit. I am chastened. I will stop.
posted by Larry Jones at 1:26 PM
18 Comments:
maybe you should go back and read my inspirational fable :) It's not too late
well written exploration, but like all the writing we do as men, it wasn't really meant and can't really read as an exploration into the "psyche of the Modern Woman", but into the fairly timeless psche of the male.
For anyone who'd like to read L's excellent fable, and I highly recommend it, you may find it here.
Thank you, L.
Eric -- I don't claim to understand women, but I love them and they fascinate me endlessly. It's a fun conceit to say that I was exploring the psyche of the M.W., but I promise that I was honestly just trying to provide a little naughty entertainment, and I made a real effort to see the scene as a woman might see it. In this way I thought I might gain some small insight. Of course biology keeps me from going all the way over to the other side, but you imply that as men we can never even SEE the other side. Do you think you have been at it long enough to make such a call? I know I haven't.
Seems to me it was a pretty big hit. Did I miss something?
H
I'm with Holly. I guess I missed something, too.
Holly and Melissa,
As J. Eric Miller points out above, "The Gift" could be seen as only a male fantasy. My male fantasy. I was aware of that when I posted it, and since it is rather intimate, I felt exposed when I put it out there. I'm just a sensitive guy, and NOT ONE of you has come to my door wearing leather cuffs and a ball gag, to validate my effort.
In my mind, that makes it "not a big hit," although I'm grateful some of you enjoyed it.
word games!
be careful with "never"s and "only"s.
and no, i don't think "being at it"--what is it?--a certain amount of time is either here or there.
sort of like somebody can study painting all his or her life and still not become an artist.
if there is such a thing as art.
Yes, word games. Don't you want to play?
Sorry if I misinterpreted you. You said my piece "...can't really [be] read as an exploration into the 'psyche of the Modern Woman'..." I just flat out think it can. Maybe you wanted to debate whether it succeeds, which is fair, but I didn't see that in your comment.
I did use the words "never" and "only" in a couple of comments, but I thought it was what you meant.
Since you have asked "...what is 'it?'..." I meant the effort -- my effort, if we must be be precise -- to understand women. You're right that trying for a long time is no guarantee of success. On the other hand, you wouldn't want me to give up, would you, just because I haven't arrived?
Blah, blah, blah. It shows how little EITHER of you really know about the female psyche. Women are very intellectual creatures. We are much more excited by the picture we paint rather than the picture we see. If we read it or you whisper it breathlessly in our ear and we get to paint the bed and the nylons and the force of the kiss...well...that IS art.
H
P.S.
I still think you are both wonderful. It is for all of the reason above that I keep finding myself returning to your little corners of this technological abyss.
Ooh, Holly. I love it when you're strict like that.
l.
all i mean to say and perhaps too quickly or too cryptically is that we tell on ourselves, whatever we write, whatever we think we're doing, whatever we try to do, we tell on ourselves.
first and foremost.
etc.
not intended to comment on the quality of the writing (although i did comment on it, and found it good). more the explanation for the writing, the little coyness there.
j_
You're right about the coyness. I acknowledge here and here that it was scary to post because, as you say, it tells on me.
The links in my previous comment don't seem to go directly where I expected them to. Suffice it to say, Eric, that I know you're right, and I thank the readers for not busting my balls.
we all tell on ourselves. i guess we like it. in the light of the day these conversations look as if i don't appreciate that willing vulnerability about the people that blog, yourself included.
i do.
I think the lesson here is that there is an abundance of men who like women with chimichanga abundance. And there is no shortage of women who would give almost anything to ride in a Lexus. It is worthwhile to note that men can always have salt water bags augment their own breast tissue which would empower them to masturbate creatively. In fact they do. Check out the she-men sites. The problem for women is that they are still drastically underpaid in the marketplace. For many, it is unlikely that men can circumvented and the Lexus purchased directly. There is hope for women in some fields, however. As a professional table dancer, I have big salty changas AND a Lexus.
As for that first response to Ron, I have to admit and admonish you that you don't always have the sense of humor you think you have. If you only did it once long ago and want to deny utterly any serious involvement in panties now that you've mentioned it and now that we've noticed that you mentioned it, then I have to admit that I never did it at all--I just have lewd thoughts. If I've dropped these thoughts like chicken turds on your pristine blog, well, Excuse Me!
Hell, Larry, nobody knows what you really mean, I suspect. I certainly don't.
What "other" part of the post? Oh, I see, I was supposed to write a complete review on your post? Sorry, I pick and choose, randomly and insensibly. If you want Sensible people, stop writing Crazy!
I'm smiling, don't get your knickers in a knot!
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