i don't get paid enough to do what I just did

One of my greatest friends on earth, we'll call her Jill, had to tend to a very delicate issue this week. Jill is a paralegal and she had clients in her office on Monday for a deposition. One of the clients in the office that day was a female stroke survivor and due to neurological complications suffers from paralysis to one side of her body.

As if attending a deposition isn't torture enough, this client happened to be on her monthly cycle the day of her deposition. I have a suspicion she probably didn't wake up that morning singing Mr. Bluebird.

Jill is a very nurturing and caring spirit. I am not saying that because I adore her, I have friends I would not give similar acclaim, I say it because it is sincerely fact. On Monday Jill was given what I hope will be her worst job assignment in her career. Jill was asked to accompany the impaired client to the restroom to assist the lady with the removal and replacement of her used maxi-pad.

You read that correctly. CHANGE her soiled, blood-soaked, foul smelling pad.

Jill's exact words to me were "I don't get paid enough money to do what I just did". She spent the remainder of the day incessantly scrubbing her upper apendages.

The question here is who is the real victim? You gotta believe the client was equally as mortified. Hasn't the poor woman been through enough? Kick her while she's down why don't ya life. The day someone assists me to the lavatory to switch out pads is going to be a very, very sad one.

Jill will be in town this weekend for tailgating and debauchery. Can't wait. Later guys,

~J

taking care of business

I'm in a rush but wanted to get this story out so that tomorrow I can move on to topics that are better and bigger [inadvertently headed that word with the letter N rather than B - thank god for spell check]. Okay, so I told a friend of mine I would share a recent story of his with my breaktheseal friends. You be the judge: did this happen? My friend is in sales and had his weekly video conference call on Monday to strategize, crunch numbers, and all that loud obnoxious fraternizing salesmen enjoy to partake in. One gentleman, ironically named Mr. Eye, was taking the call from his home on this particular morning. Let me state for the record that I am missing a few facts which would make this story less sketchy so please don't shoot the messenger. Apparently Eye was unaware this call was anything more than verbal. Eye is a Mac user. I don't know if possible but I assume he took the call from his computer - I am having a difficult time with this story too. From what my friend tells me, the Mac detects video conferencing because, well I have no idea other than the things are so damn savy they do it all. In other words, no additional software or equipment is necessary for video conferencing if you are the proud owner of a Mac. Eye is unaware of this fact. Indivdiuals on the call were perplexed with Eye's rather scraggly appearance. Some call participants thought Eye was ill. Truth be told, Eye is an avid runner and had just come in from a morning jog and took the "conference call" sweat and all. Eye proceeds to make his way to the bed while he carries on with his colleagues. Those viewing Eye could tell he was painfully distracted. Unbeknownst to Eye, there were several eyes on him. Eye proceeds to take matters into his own hands, if ya know what I mean. Again, the innocent viewers within the group on the call thought Eye was in pain possibly hurt. "Is he going to be alright". Not long into the indecent show Eye was discovered for his act of self pleasure and handed over a humiliation plaque for life. My friend assured me that Eye is actively seeking new employment.

Wait. Ohio, was this you?

I am a tad skeptical but hey, I've done worse things. [wink]

Peace!

~ Josie McSassy

I’m not living I’m just killing time

I can't take credit for todays blog title but delightedly seek any chance to plug my all time favorite band, Radiohead. Radiohead is coming out with a new album on the 10th of this month titled In Rainbows. One can download the album on said date at the price of thier choosing. Doubtful? http://www.greenplastic.com/. Personally, I could not be more ecstatic. The blog title above is a line taken from a Radiohead tune called "True Love Waits" and, although rather biased, it happens to be one of my favorite songs. I can honestly say I do not have a favorite Radiohead song. I truly love them all. The melancholy, the hardcore, the different, the weird, the rock, the punk, the instrumental. A group that defines music. They do it all.

I'll drown my beliefs
To have you be at peace
I'll dress like your niece
And wash your swollen feet
Just don't leave...don't leave
I'm not living I'm just killing time
Your tiny hands
Your crazy kitten smile
Just don't leave...don't leave
And true love waits
In haunted attics
And true love lives
On lollipops and crisps
Just don't leave...don't leave
Just don't leave...don't leave

Someone of immense charm said to me this morning “That last blog is really random. I don’t know how you come up with that stuff.” Although some might find this statement offensive, I would like to take this moment and thank him for the direct opinion. I take it as a true compliment.

I’ve been keeping many of you in suspense with regard to my new prison pal, Zuber. I have a signficaint amount of detail to share. I received my second letter from my pal Zuber this morning. Our correspondences are like clockwork. I send him a letter on Friday and by Wednesday I have a response waiting in my mailbox. My pal refers to me as a “handful” several times in his latest acknowledgment. I plan to share my pen pal exchanges with you very soon. Hold your horses.

Love, Josie

monkey see monkey don't...

Meet Ralph. Ralph is a distant cousin to my dear friend and favorite primate, Roger. For as long as I can remember Ralph has been a heavy smoker. Ralph might have coined the term chain smoker. We're working on switching him over to filtered mediums while cutting him down to a pack and a half per day. He claims he doesn't even have a taste for the things anymore. I would never say a word to the poor guy but I can see it in his climb - god damn things are killing him.

Oh Senor Don Gato Was a Cat

On a high red roof Don Gato sat
He went there to read a letter,
Meow, meow, meow
Where the reading light was better,
Meow, meow, meow
'Twas a love note for Don Gato

We all know how that story ends. Don't read the note Don Gato, please do not read the note.

My audio engine of preference has really been pushing Britney Spears’ new single “Gimme More”. The combination of a little curiosity mixed with my existing music funk created a recipe for melodic disaster. The only acclaim I can provide to the B-girl is she has one marvelous team of marketers. The perpetual exposure of negative publicity was the primary reason for my own self mutilation. It’s like watching someone try to place a derailed train back on the track. So shoot me, I gave it my ears. Two seconds after clicking the play arrow I was stunned with embarassment. What has brought me down to this low standard? It was murder of the first degree to my ears. I took off my earphones and walked away from my desk a couple of times during the observation to ensure that the disastrous melody could not be heard blaring from my phones by others in my office. There is never a good time for this jazz but certainly not at 8:15 on a Thursday morning. Inspiring minds want to know, who is the fool that listens to this garbage and thinks “wow, now that’s something". I'm sick to my stomach.

To nuetralize the havoc I am currently listening to Killing In The Name by Rage Against the Machine.

Ignorance REALLY is Bliss.

I am in a state of ambivalence which has my creativity levels flowing.

There is a quaint asian nail salon across the street from my office and I recently started utlizing their "brow waxing" services simply because they are next to free at "Queens Nails". Another bonus "Walk-Ins Welcome". It brings a smile to my face when I walk upon the handwritten "We Accept No Check" sign on the door. Asians are clearly not hooked on phonics.

I attempted to have my brows waxed yesterday. When I walked in to the salon the young asain lad inquired "what you need" whereupon I informed him I was in the market for a wax. In turn, he shouted what sounded like "you come back we no have wax no one here you come back tomorrow she not here today okay tomorrow okay". I am confused. Are you asking me a question or making a statement. Regardless I respond "You aren't leaving me with much of an option". I walk out with a disappointed disposition [tounge twister].

Today I walked in with confidence and a smile on my face. While I was informed "there be wait, k" I was assured I would be seated in the wax chair within minutes. I turn my attention to my blackberry when suddenly I am mesmorized by the love ballads playing throughout the salon. I can't lie - I was impressed. I found myself in a trance with Lionel's heartbreaking "Hello" lyrics. I even made a note on my blackberry "download hello". Next up was Careless Whisper by Wham. At this point I am fighting the urge to request a copy of the mixer. The most fascinating aspect to this experience is that the asians, who speak little to no English and who like to taint us by speaking to the other asians in the store with the language of their native tongue, knew every word to every tear jerker. I wondered if maybe one of their relatives/co-workers had recently been deported.

I have news to share. I recently developed a "pen pal" relationship with a prisoner. My new buddy's name is Steve. I will provide details tomorrow, mmmkay?

Don't you love her as she's walking out the door...

~ Josie McSass

It is rare to find individuals willing to step outside of their conventional cells. Hold on to the exceptional. ~ Josie McSass

I have a crush on Ben Stiller.
I have a minor addiction to Free Cell.
I adore string cheese.

I made a friend last night and his name is Matt. Matt is my new gay best friend. I have been in the market for one of them for quite some time. Sort of like a pet, if you will. Matt is exquisite. I had many questions concerning his lifestyle and there was no beating around the bush on his part. Speaking of beating around the bush, Matt is a heterosexual virgin.

Did you know that 33% of humans have a third nipple? I wonder how I have managed to avoid such a freak show in 32 years. Or have I??? I am trying to figure out if ths is something to be admired or ashamed of. Unique is one thing, monster is another. Three is a crowd.

Ode to IT Guy

Jerry had a little spam
big fat head
and a video cam
Jerry had a little spam
his office smells like a farm.

[This is the product of boredom mixed with a little bit of hate please do not think less of me].

Today is Pirate Day. Thanks to http://www.talklikeapirate.com/ I was able to expand my pirate vocabulary with chumbuckets which I am applying as my newest form of verbal criticism.

I am listening to The Doors. Here is a bit of trivia for those music aficionados out there. Jim Morrison’s hero was Frank Sinatra.

I ran into a nun this afternoon at my local grocery venue. I use the word ran in the literal form. Why is it that nuns always appear to be critically fragile? I thought the tiny, white haired lady was going to break when I bumped into her strikingly cold body. Odds are good that this is the only skin on skin action she has endured prior to making her devotion to god. On three separate occasions she and I met eye-to eye. I will admit the run-ins were primarily my fault. I shuffle around stores like a mad woman on a serious mission. Today I am in a hurry for no particular reason. I would like to think that Sister Helen was god’s way of shining a bit of heavenly light into my life. The holy kind, anyway. It’s rumored that sex, alcohol consumption, gluttony, and something known as “the devils music” are gratifying, but because I am a child of extreme faith I refrain from such poisonous activities.

I need to repent.

I’m a good Catholic girl. I was born and raised Catholic. I have had a love/hate relationship with the religion during my adult life. I have committed what would probably be considered sins of the carnal form within the Catholic faith. For whatever reason during the 5 times I have gone to confession as an adult I have failed to seek forgiveness for things the Catholic Church likes to frown upon such as using GD as an everyday adjective, skipping Mass on Sunday due to an extreme hangover, the pre-marital sex, the “morning after” pills, the feelings of hate I have for my office IT Guy, Big Cherry.

What of it?

I have had a priest criticize me post confession. True story. I haven't been back since.

I hope to write more tomorrow...

~ McSasssssss