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09.17.2003 - 4:31 p.m.

Wednesday

So JB has a new rig, the '04 Ford F-150 Lariat.

Or as I like to call it, the Big Assed Motherfucking Truck.

He drove the BAMT home last Thursday, and we took it to the airport on Friday morning. The BAMT being among other things big-assed as all hell, made it a terrifying experience navigating through the parking garage. I stared fixedly at the ceiling, certain we were going to scrape against it. Parking the BAMT was another tension-filled event, where JB sloooowly nosed into a space while I screwed my eyes tightly shut, waiting to hear the gut wrenching sound of metal screeching against metal.

Luckily, JB is a very good driver and calmly able to judge distances, where I seem to be devoid of all spatial relations skills whatsoever. Witness the large bruise that is currently on my right thigh, from whamming into my dresser drawer the other night. How can I possibly drive the BAMT when I cannot propel myself across my bedroom without a painful collision?

I did drive it, though, on a brief foray in our neighborhood which thankfully ended in our driveway instead of some difficult parking lot. It's nice, the BAMT. It handles well and it's really smooth. And the interior is awesome. Leather everywhere, heated seats, pretty shiny silver gearshift.

JB has been wanting a truck forever, so he's over the moon about it. I swear I saw him outside yesterday just petting the BAMT with a dreamy expression.

(By the way, don't you be emailing ME with a bunch of snag about fuel efficiency or road menacing or whatever, missy/mister, *I* drive a very uncontroversial Toyota Corolla.)

I made up a very nice poem about the BAMT, which I will share with you now:

Big black truck, you make parking scary
Your leather seats are bound to get hairy*
You're the biggest thing on a Seattle ferry
I can't believe the amount of shit you can carry
Who is this redneck that I did marry?

*From the dog.

:::

This is stale news, but how sad is it about Johnny Cash. I've been a fan since I was a little kid listening to "I Walk The Line" at my grandparents house. I'm not surprised, though - once his wife passed away it just seemed like he wasn't going to be around much longer.

RIP Johnny. I wonder if he'd be happy to know JB and I like to sing "Dirty Old Egg Sucking Dog" to Dog?

:::

Work has been kind of strange lately. I suppose I shouldn't repeat this story...but what the hell, come in tight where the others cannot hear so I can regale you with the weirdness of my coworkers. No inappropriate touching! Well, maybe a little.

So we have this great fringe benefit, okay? It's a bi-weekly housecleaning from a specific service called Maid Brigade. It turns out one of the engineers has been hiring a neighborhood girl to clean his house, and charging Workplace. Our office manager has gotten sick of dealing with this, because the bills come erratically, they're often not for the amount that Maid Brigade charges, etc. It was decided that this engineer should no longer buck the system and they were told that the benefit covered Maid Brigade services ONLY, and other arrangements would have to be paid out of pocket.

The shit hit the fan, people. We're talking major shit here, like...elephant-sized shit (subsequently hitting a large enough fan to complete the metaphor). The engineer's wife (who by way has a doctor-sanctioned service dog that must go everywhere with her, not a seeing eye dog, no, a dog that somehow stabilizes her questionable mental state, don't ask me how, maybe it's got a stash of Lithium packed in its butt, and by the way part two it is a long-haired chihuahua) called our office manager and FREAKED on her for a good 20 minutes about how draconian the policy was and how dare she make the change and who did she think she was making this decision without talking to everyone about how it would effect them. Then her husband, the one, you know, actually employed by Workplace, called and had a follow-up fit. Apparently they both called one of Workplace's owners at their home around midnight to complain about this as well. There was some question as to whether or not this engineer could even manage to come back to work until the matter had been "resolved".

Honestly, some of the people I work with need a healthy bout of unemployment to get a little perspective. It's housecleaning, and it's free. What the hell is there to complain about?

Well, most of our engineers react badly to change, and there's been a lot of it lately. Flailing against a benefit policy is probably engineer-ese for "My job is different now and that scares me!" (please imagine that delivered in a Ralph Wiggum voice). It doesn't make it less annoying, though.

:::

I leave you with this link, in order to drive you crazy. Keep in mind nothing is animated on that page. Aaaargh!

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JournalCon 2003

8 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

yay, diaryland