I Don't Like Fridays
Yup, that's right. You heard me.
Friday's blow.
They don't have a thing on their menu that's edible, unless you're falling down drunk. I only say this, because I've been there. Slobbering and wobbling drunk and eating whatever steaming vermin they serve there. It's just plain yacky.
Then there's the day itself. It blows too. Big time. If you work in I.T. you know why and what I am talking about. Everyone else is fluttering around and excited about their weekend picnic in the park plans. They're yammering on about how they're going on weekend getaway to the wine country. They're saying how "busy" they'll be at soccer games or swim meets or whatever other yuppie good Christian fellowship they can come up with.
What am I doing on Friday? Running around like a chicken with my head cut off because invariably every monkey waits until Friday morning to come up with whatever complex and completely random request they can't live with out over the weekend. They may have known that they were going to Guadalajara for a year, but it isn't until the Friday before they leave that they relay the need for a portable rocket launcher and laptop with a keyboard that will allow them to type in Aramaic. They may have known they would be going on safari in the Australian outback for 3 years, yet they still wait until the night before to demand that you enable their Blackberry and cell phone to be fully functional while they're on "walk-a-bout".
If I had a dime for every pony or laser beam someone requested at 5:56 p.m. on a Friday, you'd all have to start calling me the Crown Prince Of Cynicism. Or the Maharaja Of Rancor. Or the Sultan Of Bitterness. Or the Arch Duke Of Acrimony.
You get the picture. Nice to know that studying for the SAT finally paid off.
Oh, there is one Friday "related" thing that does not suck. If you've never tried "Fridays - Cheddar and Bacon Potato Skins", you really should. They're sold in a bag like chips. They're a little thicker than potato chips, but they're all kinds of yummy.
Friday's blow.
They don't have a thing on their menu that's edible, unless you're falling down drunk. I only say this, because I've been there. Slobbering and wobbling drunk and eating whatever steaming vermin they serve there. It's just plain yacky.
Then there's the day itself. It blows too. Big time. If you work in I.T. you know why and what I am talking about. Everyone else is fluttering around and excited about their weekend picnic in the park plans. They're yammering on about how they're going on weekend getaway to the wine country. They're saying how "busy" they'll be at soccer games or swim meets or whatever other yuppie good Christian fellowship they can come up with.
What am I doing on Friday? Running around like a chicken with my head cut off because invariably every monkey waits until Friday morning to come up with whatever complex and completely random request they can't live with out over the weekend. They may have known that they were going to Guadalajara for a year, but it isn't until the Friday before they leave that they relay the need for a portable rocket launcher and laptop with a keyboard that will allow them to type in Aramaic. They may have known they would be going on safari in the Australian outback for 3 years, yet they still wait until the night before to demand that you enable their Blackberry and cell phone to be fully functional while they're on "walk-a-bout".
If I had a dime for every pony or laser beam someone requested at 5:56 p.m. on a Friday, you'd all have to start calling me the Crown Prince Of Cynicism. Or the Maharaja Of Rancor. Or the Sultan Of Bitterness. Or the Arch Duke Of Acrimony.
You get the picture. Nice to know that studying for the SAT finally paid off.
Oh, there is one Friday "related" thing that does not suck. If you've never tried "Fridays - Cheddar and Bacon Potato Skins", you really should. They're sold in a bag like chips. They're a little thicker than potato chips, but they're all kinds of yummy.
posted by The Idiot @ 9:00 PM
2 comments
2 Comments:
Dear Idiot Santa Man,
I'd like a pinkie macro that shoots a laser out of my computer monitor and I would like the direction of said laser to be controlled by my mouse.
Actually, I'd like, nee - demand a foot mouse for the directional control of my laser.
Or a Batmobile from Batman Begins.
It's TUESDAY, that's got to count for something!?
Oh Idiot (Dang...can I call you something else?...like Reginald?) I feel your pain. Except in my case it is Fridays and Mondays both. At the end of the week everyone panics that they won't be in touch all weekend long, and then on Mondays everyone believes they must contact me to tell me of any problems they encountered over the weekend.
How about we outlaw them?
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