(no subject)

My work world, in three acts.

ACT ONE: Mystery.

Person: I'm not sure who I'm here to see.
Sam: Did you make an appointment with anyone?
Person: I work here, apparently.
Sam: It's such a Monday, isn't it?

ACT TWO: Disbelief.

Sam: Coworker X said, and I quote, "Can we please have someone come up and look at the toilets? I'm not sure if they need plumbing." Can you do that, and let me know if they need an actual service call or just need to be cleaned?
Coworker Fail: A PLUMBER MAKES THREE TIMES WHAT I DO. WHEN THEY PAY ME THAT I WILL GO AND LOOK AT THEM. *splurt of rage all over email*
Sam: *quietly makes a service call*

INTERMISSION: They totally had mac and cheese at the cafeteria for lunch. Why yes, I am in the seventh grade, thank you for noticing.

ACT THREE: Gratification.

BossBoss: You've been falling down on the job, Sam. You've been here, what, two years? I have yet to receive a single call notifying me of my million-dollar sweepstakes win.
Sam: Well, I've been impersonating you and collecting the winnings for myself.

(no subject)

R has a new theory of television, so he calls it: he asserts that you can reduce all of TV programming to one of three themes -- "or motives", he said darkly -- that encompass the whole of TV, advertising in particular.

He says TV makes you one of three things:

Hungry
Horny
Want to buy window blinds.

I think it's a theory with merit!

R argues that Wheel of Fortune is a beautiful melding of all three, but that's only because he's frighteningly into Vanna White.

(no subject)

R has left the building; while he was here we watched three dudes EPIC FAIL on Wheel of Fortune and I gave him the presents Mum brought for him, which turned out to be a bag of jerky and a box of jellybeans (she knows his loves). He ate all the jerky -- AN ENTIRE BAG OF JERKY -- and put the jellybeans in his pocket. Loose, in his pocket. For ease of nomming, I suppose.

Meanwhile, I tried to demonstrate "Cooking Mama" for him -- Mum gave it to me for Christmas, for the Wii, it's a cooking simulator. He was very perplexed as to why anyone would go to all the trouble of cooking, say, a flan, and then not being able to eat it. All night, "Where's the flan? You made a flan, but you can't eat it. I don't understand!"

I think Cooking Mama gave him some kind of existential crisis. "There's food...but there's no food! WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?"

Also he left me half a bottle of wine. Om nom nom.