Well, dear readers, it is already Thursday. Yesterday, someone said “Hello” nicely to me at work, so that was nice. However, it was short-lived, and then things got weird again, and I simply cannot figure it out. I am rarely at a loss, dear readers, but I am at a loss at this job. But, as my beloved Dodo Day always says, What Will Be, Will Be. I think that Friday will tell the tale. If no one says anything then I guess I’m safe for another week. I’m sort of beyond caring at this point.
Last night I finished watching the motion picture entitled A Double Life. I thought it was a most peculiar movie, but entertaining in its own weird way. Not one of Mr. Cukor’s best in my opinion (IMO, in Internet lingo) but an interesting performance from Ronald Colman, and a very early appearance by Shelly Winters. I also watched five early short films by Roman Polanski. They were all quite strange but in them one can see the seeds of his later films. He appears in several of them, and in one of them, interestingly, there is a shot where he approaches the camera to do some harm to someone that is exactly the same shot he ended up using in Chinatown when he approaches the camera to do some harm to Mr. Jack Nicholson.
I’m having birthday withdrawal right now. Doesn’t anyone have a birthday today? I need my pointy party hat and my cheese slices and ham chunks, I need my colored tights and pantaloons, I need to dance the hora and the frug. Someone must have a birthday. Isn’t there some lurker out there having a birthday? Oh, well, birthdays tomorrow, comedy tonight – oh, a Stephen Sondheim reference.
We had a brief power outage at work yesterday. It was very peculiar and I am happy that I was not in the elevator at the time. The entire building went out and it was quite strange but only added to the overall strangeness inherent in this jernt.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below so we can see if anyone is having a birthday in the next section.
Nope, no one is owning up to a birthday in this section. Damn them, damn them all to hell. Yesterday, on another message board (you know the one – with all the anonymous twerps who think we don’t know who they are – we do, and someday they are going to have a rude awakening), they were dissing our very own Kerry Butler. Two or three of these nincompoops said their “sources” had informed them that Miss Butler was of a certain age. They insisted their “sources” were correct. Our very own Mr. Craig Brockman went in and posted that he and Miss Butler had gone to school together and therefore informed them that they were, in fact, incorrect. And they would not stop. I responded to Craig’s message only, suggesting that just because he knows Kerry and went to school with her doesn’t make him right – and that anonymous people who post information from anonymous sources are much more believable. I did this with humor, naturally. Then our usual suspects came in and dissed me of all people, and quite nastily, too, but I held to my promise and did not respond to these nincompoops. One of these nincompoops is a columnist of sorts, and a pretty bad one at that. And he obviously has a bug up his bottom about me – I wonder whyeth. Yes, Virginia, I wonder wyeth he hath a buggeth up his bottom about little old meeth. He inferred that you, dear readers, kiss my “ass”. I racked my brain and I wracked my brain and I racqued my brain and I do not remember any dear reader ever having kissed my “ass” and believe me, I would remember such a thing as having my very own butt cheeks kissed by various and sundried dear readers. So, as always, we say phut to these nincompoops and if anyone is going to kiss my “ass” it can be them or they, not necessarily in that order.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, whatever they may be, I must go to work (I think), I must get through another day of weirdness (or maybe it won’t be weird and things will be better), I must eat lunch meats, I must drink liquids, I must, in short, get crackin’. Today’s topic of discussion: We’ve all dealt with bullies in our lives, both personal and professional. Tell about your worst bullies, personal and professional, and how you dealt with them. If it involves hurling vile epithets or hurling sauteed onions, so much the better.