“You should see his ass from up here.”
No..no…
I’m not talking about my wife’s conversation with her friend…
…while she was on the phone…
…as she whipped me into submission.
(she’s a good master)
I’m talking about my text conversation with one of my buddies during our quarterly corporate meeting.
(NOTE: The names have been changed in this story to protect the innocent)
Yesterday, I mentioned that we had a mandatory corporate meeting…
…which, I assumed, was to lambaste me (mmm…who wants basted lamb now?) for being inappropriate in the workplace.
Moi?
In-a-f*cking-propriate?!
Is this what this meeting was about?!?!?
It was not.
Bullet dodged.
PHEW.
Anyway…
I showed up late to the meeting…
…and ended up standing near the door at the front of the room.
This is also where the people speaking to the audience were…
…and attempting to drive the very will to live out of everyone in attendance.
Great.
I can hear these dickheads much clearer from up here.
Awesome.
Shortly after arriving (but not before tuning everything out), I got my first text message from Will (not his real nickname):
(my BlackBerry buzzes)
Will: “Why didn’t you come to this?”
*blink*
Why didn’t I come to this?
Let’s see…
I’m standing in the front of the room.
Everyone is actually LOOKING towards the front of the room.
I’m standing RIGHT THERE.
I text back:
Me: “You stupid f*cksh*t. I’m standing up here next to Rob.”
I look, and waaaaaaaaaaaaay in the back of the room is Will.
He waves.
Incoming text:
Will: “Oh. I thought you had balls.”
He’s right.
If I DID have balls (actually, balls that worked), I probably would have been smart enough to skip this stupid sh*t-ass meeting.
I look down at my watch…
F*CK.
I’ve been here for only 15 minutes and I already want someone to stick a dirty spork in my eye.
SOMEBODY, SHIV ME!
This is f*cking torture.
I text my other buddy Mikey (not his real nickname, either):
Me: “Kill me.”
Mikey: “This is a slow death.”
No sh*t.
I consider feigning a bout of explosive diarrhea to get the f*ck out of this.
I then consider actually squashing out a REAL poo.
However, pinching a loaf will probably also clear most of the room as well.
I then decide against this action…
…as they’d probably reschedule this f*cking meeting for a later date.
Anyway…
Our head of Marketing gets up to speak.
I’ve never heard this guy talk before.
Wow.
He obviously takes it full-bore in the ass….
…and eats his corn the long way.
Holy crap.
This guy is uber-gay.
..and he dresses REALLY nice (even more evidence).
His hands flop in front of him as he speaks…
(flippity-floppity….flip-flop)
…no control of his wrists.
Incoming text from Will:
Will: “Gay?”
Me: “Gee. You think? I’m waiting for him to rip off his Velcro pants and start dancing to The Village People.”
Will: “Macho macho man I wanna be a macho man”
Me: “You should see his ass from up here. It’s fantastic.”
Will: “It’s nice? I can’t see. I’m too far back.”
Ha, ha, Will. I can see his bum just fine.
…wait…
Dear Reader: Please forget this last conversation ever took place.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation.
I really wish Marketing Guy would have stuck to his Village People montage for his portion of the meeting.
…at least I’d be entertained.
Anyway….
Its then that my boss gets up to speak.
Great…now I REALLY can’t bail.
F*CKING AY….IS THIS GOING TO END?!?!?!
At this point, I’m going on an hour standing here…with nothing of any substance going on…
…this is worse than Cloverfield.
Text from Will:
Will: “Hey. What’s this chick look like that’s in front of me? I can only see the back of her head.”
I look.
Me: “She looks like a small Chinese man.”
Will: “Yeah?”
*pause*
Will: “I’d still do her.”
Me: “Yes. That’s because it has an anus.”
Yep…this is how I spent my time at the meeting.
Discussing shivs, homosexual management, and my buddy’s desire to screw a Chinese chick that looks like a guy.
I can only imagine what this looked like for the rest of the people in the meeting…
…as I was standing in the front of the room while people were giving their presentations…
…as I rattled away on my BlackBerry…
…chuckling to myself…
…and trying to not break out laughing.
(suppressing laughter is now causing pressure on my sphincter…requiring me to now also try to suppress a high-pressure laugh-fart).
Trying to suppress a laugh-fart SUCKS.
But, luckily for me, Human Resources is planning on removing my lower intestine due to previous ethics violations.
So this shouldn’t be a problem for the next meeting.
Mental Poo 