Thursday, March 8, 2007

Fun with Pic Posting! AND: Office Solutions

Hey y'all, What do you think of this new font? I chose Trebuchet--but as I'm typing, it looks suspiciously like Courier New. We shall see how this turns out I guess. So, what is up? How is everyone doing today? Thanks to Adam, Peter, Liz and of course Erica for the reader response. Yeah, what is up with Big Dog shirts? Why were they considered scandalous by the majority of our parents? And more importantly, where might one find a Big Dog outlet store? My brother, "Misha", says there is one somewhere in the state of Minnesota. As for Hypercolor, did anyone actually get a Hypercolor shirt as a kid? Did that shit acutally work? I would like to know. These were strictly forbidden in my household due to the carcogen factor, but I think at some point my "cool" aunt got me a knockoff version that definitely did not work.

Peep this handsome couple demonstrating how Hypercolor gets you laid...

That is dead sexy. But it looks like that chick is getting a weird Hypercolor rash all over her arm and belly. They should've touched up that foto a bit before putting it all over the web.
Also, for the record, I want to mention that this blogger shizz sometimes will randomly delete words from my post. So it sounds I don't speak ENglish. Or that I am writing this after having crushed and snorted ADD medication off a binder. Which is not something I have done personally, but some of us have (in front of terrified prospies).

OK. So. Topic for the day is common office probs and solutions to those probs. For instance, what do you do with a chatty coworker? Or, is it OK to use personal email at work? Or, what is the correct way to ask a coworker from Arizona if her boobies are fake? Which is the office conundrum that Erica is facing as we speak.

It's been postulated that all women from Arizona have fake tits. (*Suggestions for better words for tits are WELCOME by the way and will be edited into the post*)

Here's a recent convo regarding the matter that went down at "De
l Monte Asset Management" today:

dan: alan says they're definitely fake.

erica: how would he know?

dan: exactly. i asked him. he said in arizona all the women have fake boobs and he dated a woman, a massuese, with fake boobs. now my question is this: how could he let her go?

the funniest part of the conversation was dan's insistence on using the word 'woman' instead of 'girl' so as not to offend

Yeah... I would feel so demeaned if referred to as a girl during a conversation about my fake tits...what?

Ewww. personally, I would much rather be called a girl than a woman. For some reason "Woman" conjures up images of...I don't know...THIS person:

Or THIS person:

who is the author of THIS book:

Neither of whom I feel ready to emulate at this point in my life. I'm gonna go watch the Pussycat Dolls reality show now.

Yup, that's about it for today. I = AUDI

La Tempist


Adam F-Bomb said...

Whatever, those prospies had it coming. If they didn't want to experience the seedy underbelly of undergraduate life, why would they have been trying to sleep at 2am on a weeknight? Right?

I like "boobies", because it's a cute diminutive of the female-used-and-accepted "boobs", but that may not be appropriate for Arizona-sized artificial ones. How about the more genteel "headlights" or "funbags"?

PS--Murphy Brown...can you say sass-ay?

Erica said...

I learned one thing from this ridic office convo:

I'm getting fakies abroad and then suing the shit out of whoever I work for when the office guys bet on whether they're real.

You might wanna look into this, you know, if you get bored of temping.

the Tempist said...

e, i LIKE the way you think. giant obvious fake tits from thailand + an appetite for suin' = enough riches to buy a party island for all of us. myself, i was considering planting a finger or something in my next big mac, but i think someone may have already tried that. crap.

Gina said...

where did the myth of AZ fake tits originate? is this a norse fairy tale? i haven't seen a single pair! and i can tell--remember my boss from that horrid boutique in high school who used to leave her nicotine-flavored nibbles in my lunches and made me feel the difference between her fake boobs and my real ones?