I figured there’d be repercussions when Clark fired Typhoid Mildred.
Mildred’s not the type to be put out to pasture, and she’s never been fond of Clark.
My guess was that there’d be some nasty letters, slashed tires, and maybe a good old fashioned ass-kicking.
I never expected her to sue.
But according to the rumor mill, that’s exactly what’s happening. And in typical Mildred fashion, she’s not just suing; she’s going for the jugular.
Otto said she’s hired some high profile Scottish labor lawyer and that they are coming out with “cabers blazing.”
She’s looking for $200 million in damages, her job back, and Clark’s left testicle. (I’m not sure why she’d want her job back if she was awarded $200m, or why the left nut is preferable to the right, but I’ve long since given up trying to figure out the woman).
Clark hasn’t taken it well.
He spent the day in a meeting with HR and legal, and there was a lot of screaming and swearing. “I’m not taking the fall for that!” “What do you mean the bitch has pictures?” and “Do I need my own lawyer?” were repeated refrains.
Rumour is Mildred knows where all the Hamish skeletons are hidden.
Naturally, no one is talking about it publicly.
All I know is that Clark looks suspiciously like a man who’s eaten some bad haggis and is about to pay the price.
Yes, things are starting to heat up! I’ve been patiently waiting for the hookup with Carlita, but I’ll settle for some office tension, new office alliances, courtroom drama, settlements for an undisclosed amount of money and a mysterious shroud of closure. And…. action!
By the way, the “Terminator eyes” on the pup… awesome!
Cheers Ramblin’
I remain hopeful on the Carlita front. On Friday she said to me, “Oh Christ, you have egg on your tie.” Could there be the seeds of the love in her words? More soon…
And thanks! I like the terminator daschund look too.
How romantic are those words!
Nothing says “romance” like eggs and ties…
😉
Something to remember if you ever get married. Big if, but…
Hahaha…
You don’t see much of a future for me in that department, spamwarrior?
It’s highly doubtful, unless you can find a woman who can match your uhhh… uhhh… eccentricness?
Hahahahaha… I’m really sensing you don’t like my odds…
Isn’t the world full of wonderfully fabulous and sensible women who are looking for an “eccentric” guy who works in sales?
I always considered myself something of a catch…
Have I been living in a fool’s paradise — again???
😆
Yes, and that “nerk! Nerk!” is so darn irresistible.
Nerk! I mean, thanks… Or, wait, hang on… Let me reread what you just said… Hmmm, I want to believe you’re being sincere, and yet I seem to sense sarcasm dripping all over the place. Nah! You’re being sincere. The “nerk” thing is irresistible to women. Yeah, I’ll be fine… 😉
When she said “Oh, Christ…” did you remind her that your name is Alan?
Hahahaha…
My exact response was: “Err, egg? Me? Who? Wha? Haha! You’re pretty. Nump! I mean — nerk!”
I still got it.
The problem is, I can’t get rid of it.
Wow. That came out of left field. What a brilliant turn of events … and by brilliant I mean interesting for everyone except Clarky boy.
Perhaps, thinking ahead, now is the time to start re-investing time to building a friendship with Mildred (or perhaps even a little more … *subtle wink*) so that you can get your hands on a tiny slice of the money. Thoughts?
😆
Hey, Chris…
There is a fun site called Live Wrong and Prosper, it asks the question: What Would You Do for $1,000,000?
http://livewrongandprosper.com/
And if they asked the question “Would you sleep with Typhoid Mildred for a million smackers?” I have to say, my answer would be… No. No, I just couldn’t.
Not that I “couldn’t” but I couldn’t… I mean, I’m all man here. Sure, I’m undergoing a bit of therapy and things are at a crucial point, not that has anything to do with anything, what I’m saying is “I could” but I wouldn’t. But not because I can’t. Because I can.
Am I overcompensating here?
Yes.
I can’t wait to read SoF’s response to this. Your open therapy is getting sooo embarrassing.
Embarrassing in a “this is so fascinating” kind of way?
Or embarrassing in an “Alan’s close to recovery” kind of a way…?
I need clarification here, Pamela.
According to Freud, I’m making real progress. Although what is real? Nothing it seems, at times. And reality is awfully perplexing… And progress? What’s that all about? Has society progressed? No, most people haven’t figured out that staying awake is the reason they have problems sleeping, and that diets that don’t involve eating fruits and vegetables aren’t really very good for your physical health. And yet, here we are – the “superior” race. Of course we all get a little nervous with that “superior race” talk, don’t we? Sure, society’s made mistakes. But we’re good at denying them. And even better at blaming someone else: Well, at least we’re trying. Oh yeah, we’re trying. Very, very trying.
Anyway, I think I’m close to getting cured.
Even though I’m told no one is ever cured.
Still, I’m almost there.
You know – I didn’t even think to question your ability to … you know … “do it” – but now I’m wondering if there is an interesting (interesting in a way that will not make a heterosexual boy uncomfortable) story about “wanting to, but not being able to, and be able to but not wanting to”.
Although, your open therapy also makes me wonder one day I’ll see you on the news. Running through a street with the TV “beeping” at me because they can’t repeat your “colorful” language and the screen slightly blurred because it’s 7pm – and nudity is not allowed at that time.
However – don’t worry. I won’t judge. Working at your office is a quick sure way of making anyone and everyone slightly insane. 🙂 You’re welcome.
Chris,
Thank you for returning and for your comment – which I think may be at my expense. 😉
It would, of course, be great to be on TV, but I don’t think I’d be comfortable doing a nude scene. I’m okay with swearing. I do it all the gosh darn time.
Thanks for going easy on the judging. You are indeed right, my friend, life at Hamish has made us all slightly insane (some slightly more than others).
Speaking of SOF and insanity…
Have you ever considered a career in therapy? You seem to have the knack for getting people to talk, or at least type.
I know that I often write some of my best stuff right here in these very comment threads. I’ve seen others do spectacular things as well, whenever they can get a comment in edgewise…
So, drawing on your ability to draw out other people’s abilities would be right up the ol’ therapist alley.
Not that I could say that there would be a point to all of the talking/writing. But everyone (esp. pop psychologists) seems to agree that “talking things out” and more “communication” is the way to go.
I admit that this is asking for trouble, information and a general increase in the cacophony, but I really think you may have something here. Of course, not that you don’t already what with this office blog thingy, which almosts seems to be a platform for massed high-dives into the deep end of the comment thread.
I think what I’m trying to say is (and I may not be the best judge of that, believe it or not): your writing, whether it’s the post way up there, or the give-and-take everywhere else, is inspiring and, dare I say it, therapeutic in its own way (echoing Kali down below).
If anyone wonders about the awkward silence in here, you can point the finger at me.
Wow…
Thank you very much, CLT.
First you immortalize me in a Heavy Rotation – and then you make blush. Clearly all the money and liquor I’m sending you is reaping the “bevy of compliments bonanza” I had hoped for.
I believe I would be a colossal failure as a therapist. I did a couple of years of psych at Prophet University and while I found it fascinating, I ultimately found my passion to be in the area of writing and theatre. (This is after I tanked out of Ferret University where I was majoring in Ferret Whispering. Ah, good ol’ F.U.)
I think the threads work well because we have such creative people leaving wonderful, hilarious and thought provoking comments that can then get seriously riffed on. (I’m looking straight at you, here as well, my friend.) More often than not it feels like most people bring their “A” games here. And for that, I am truly grateful. I probably don’t say that enough – this blog has the best writers and commentators going on. And that is evident in their awesome blogs. I’m keeping good company. And I’m a luckier guy for it.
I will say that there is a release in writing and laughter and it’s great that it can sometimes happen here. But I’ll leave the therapy to the resident experts Dr. David (Presidente) Hambidge, Dr. Pamela Villars, and the ghost of Freud – sure the ghost’s credentials are totally spotty, but really could we expect anything else from psychoanalytic ectoplasm?
Okay, well, now look what you’ve done. 😉 …Seriously though, cheers for the kind words and as always, thanks for your great comments. I still remember the day my pal, Ram said to me “You should check out Fancy Plans and Pants to Match they’ve got something very special going on over there.” Damn right, Ram.
Damn right.
PS: I just sent off the latest package of money and liquor. Should be there by Friday at the latest.
Ah… sweet money and liquor…
It truly makes the world go round. Or at least spin…
Very well written CLT.
This blog, posts and comments, has become an art form in its own right.
dave
You are my favorite for so many reasons, but this literally made laugh for quite a long time:
I actually have friends at the UN. Yes. Yes, I would.
Anyway — thank you for being hilarious. Really. You are funnier than you know and there are times when you literally make my day better.
Thanks Kali, what a wonderfully kind thing to say. That really means a lot to me and it’s truly appreciated.
Speaking of funny, I was just singing your praises. ↑
😉
Cheers,
Alan
OOOH, maybe she already got his left testicle. She wasn’t going for the jugular, she was going for the, well, you know. And $200 million to boot. She wants to go back to work to rub in her new fortune.
🙂
In old Scottish lore there is a gruesome morality tale of an old hag who goes back to the well one time too many in search of testicles…
Well, okay, there isn’t it. But there really should be.
Oh, Alan, please watch your back. Clark needs a fall guy and you, well, you fit the bill.
Perhaps it’s time for you to…hmmm…write a blog about the company and expose the whole thing.
For whistle-blower and testicle protection. ;-0
Thank you, Pamela.
I will. I’ve just also realized something…
When the people at Hamish Industries say “The Office Sap” I don’t think they are talking about the sugar that circulates through the vascular system of the office plant. I think they may be talking about me.
A blog, you say…
😉
You’re really too sweet for that office. You sap. I mean – you nice guy you.
You need to get on Midreds good side and fast. Take her out to lunch. Tell her how much you missed her. Tell her you blocked off her cubicle to preserve her memory.
You may soon be swapping your names for the office staff.
Tycoon Mildred
Anaphylitic Tom
Nutless Clark
Do you really want to be Alpo… er I mean Anal.. hmmm
Well, I’m sure if Mildred wins, your nicknames will get much much worse, Sap.
Thanks Claire,
That’s one thrill ride of a comment. The peaks and valleys definitely make for dramatic reading. I was feeling good about myself one second and concerned for my mortal soul the next.
Tycoon Mildred! 😆
Brilliant.
Apparently in 85% of the male population, the left testicle is larger than the right (also hangs lower) due to the spermatic cord being longer. So my only guess is that Mildred has reasoned that she’d get ‘more’ of his manhood this way. –You may have helped break a google record for ‘testicle’ searches with this post!
200 million huh? I don’t believe that we ever went over Mildred’s relationship status. I’m now becoming very interested in her romantically. She can spread all the deadly plagues she wants with that kind of money. That buys a lot of Cajun, baby-back ribs!
Clark should feel lucky; at least she didn’t hire a team of assassins to take him out!!
Ah, Scott
As always, you are in fine form.
Thanks for the testes fact sheet.
Note to readers: There will be a short testis test after. Not a full test. A short one. Call it a testicle.
Interested in Mildred romantically are you?
There is a fun site called Live Wrong and Prosper, it asks the question: What Would You Do for $1,000,000?
http://livewrongandprosper.com/
And if they asked the question “Would you sleep with Typhoid Mildred for a million smackers?” I have to say, my answer would be… No. No, I just couldn’t.
Not that I “couldn’t” but I couldn’t… I mean, I’m all man here. Sure, I’m undergoing a bit of therapy and things are at a crucial point, not that has anything to do with anything, what I’m saying is “I could” but I wouldn’t. But not because I can’t. Because I can.
Am I overcompensating here?
Am I repeating myself?
Or both?
PS: The assassins are in the mail.
I’m feeling deja vu here,
I’d like to think I could, but alas probably couldn’t…. Not that I want to to, that is to say I do want to but I just couldn’t want to
Greetings me (hah!),
So what you are saying is me could but me probably couldn’t because me don’t want to although me want but just couldn’t want to.
I couldn’t have said it better meself!
Not to get to personal in your upstanding blog or anything but, my only concern is that I couldn’t. I would want to, but I couldn’t. I don’t even think that Viagra would work; my body would simply reject it like a bad transplanted liver.
Very interesting site you linked there. I’ve bookmarked it for further examination. I think we are all a lot more capable of just about anything than we imagine!
If you’re having a um…problem the secret is just to not think about it. The next time things begin to heat up in the bedroom do NOT think of this blog. Or this string of comments. If you did it could totally mess you up. So don’t think of it. –I hope that helped you to not think of it!! I know, I’m like 12 years old mentally.
I know this though, for 200 million I’d sleep with the rotting corpse of MJ. – aww, now I’ve gone and ‘dirtied’ your fine upstanding literary high jinx.
Not only do I imagine that Alan will be unable to think of anything else, I’m pretty sure that I will be thinking of it also. Not that it will noticeably affect my performance, but it will likely affect my enjoyment.
Thank you, Scott. 😉
You are right, BKT!
My mind is a primordial mix of Viagra, liver, liver transplants, further examinations, sheep placenta, and 12 year olds having sex with the corpse of MJ on the bones of the EM.
Where to go from here seems to be the question…
PS: Please let me know if you need sheep placenta.
Shit, now we are all thinking about it and will be especially thinking of it while we are in separate claw foot bathtubs at the top of a hill overlooking a golden vista. I never understood that commercial. They are old people, they have trouble even getting in a bathtub much less…ah, now It’s all I can think about! Aaahhhh….
See this is what can cause ..problems.
but how many of us are thinking of sex with typhoid mildred or Scott having sex with the rotting corpse?
Can someone please pass me some good strong soap?
I need it for my brain.
What? You run out of scotch?
Hope you had a nice day at the track, Claire.
What was it today, the ponies or the dogs?
I was betting on who Scott would have sex with next.
All the scotch in the world won’t take that image out of my mind.
3 — 1 on Mildred. I think she’s the odds on favorite.
Soap won’t save you either, Claire.
What will save me?
Jesus… but that’s a damn good question, Claire. I’d say gambling and drinking. Work with your strong suits.
I was thinking love and affection
but DAMN Your suggestions are a hell of a lot better! Pass me another bottle and book me a plane to Vegas.
😉
Scott…
First of all… What the Hell happened to the emotocons? They’re all pale and pasty. I suspect that NobblySan (http://madhatters.me.uk/) has been feeding them too much beer and poison.
Second. There is no problem. Never has been. Never will be. Thanks to sheep placenta. Good ol’ sheep placenta. I have plenty of sheep placenta if you need any. Or you can always buy it at “Uncle Lupus’s Big Gooey Barn of Placenta”
It’s kind of like a TGIF but instead of good food and atmosphere there is placenta. Lots and lots of placenta.
Now I’m off to try and raise 200 million my challenge to you is – sleep with the festering corpse of MJ on the bones of the Elephant Man. I suspect you are up for this challenge.
Soon we shall get jiggy.
200 hundred million. I’d try. I’d kill myself trying!
Where can I get some sheep placenta? It sounds nice. Can we strike a deal and add it to the fantastic lovejuice brand?
We should discuss it over some lovely food and atmosphere, not to mention friendly service at TGIF!
You guys have such an advantage over me. I have to go to bed now, so not only do I miss out on all the fun, I have to think about MJ’s and the elephant man’s corpse, emotocons, sheep placenta, lupus, liver transplants and old people trying to have sex in bathtubs!
Hahahaha!
Sweet dreams! Feel free to share them with us. The ghost of Freud may be able to unravel their meaning.
Nobbly’s been poisoning our emoticons? 😦
Poor little things.
“This is whole new ballgame” shouts Mil-dread 😉
Hah, yes, nothing says “run!” like an oncoming vengeful and fierce old Scottish woman wielding a bat.
maybe this boils down to all the rejections of affection from Mr Hamish, and now the firing has pushed Mildred over the edge, my god if she can’t have the man she’ll have his money instead!
p.s. who cares about Clark, with him out of the picture you can make your moves on Carlita at last! Just avoid saying NERK!! though…
A very solid theory, me. I like it. I like it a lot! Perhaps she wants the 200 million to invest in some kind of reanimating machine and her plan is to bring back ol’ Mr. Hamish from the dead and then together the two of them will go on some sort of, um, …love spree?
“I Married The Ghost of Mr. Hamish”
I like it. It has sitcom written all over it.
Thanks!
PS: I’ve taken to stop saying NERK but now seem to be saying NUMP instead. It’s way more attractive, I think.
At least, it inspires her to laughter, anyway…
haha brilliant, how apt, not sure if it’s reached your shores but us brits have a saying ‘numpty’ Google defines this as ‘An idiot or fool’.
But lately people short this to nump when calling someone or themselves an idiot.
Now i’m not callnig you an idiot I’m just stating in Britain your calling yourself an idiot 🙂
PS: don’t give up Alan, she will be yours. Oh, yes – she will be yours.
PSS: Writing the above made me think maybe you could bring back the trend of saying Schwing! instead?
Hahaha…
Well, me (hah!), it would appear my latest unfortunate noise is truly summing me (that is to say, me, not me – you know what I mean, and when I say you, I mean me) up.
Thanks for the encouraging words. I do believe one day she will be mine as well. Of course, I also believed that cartoons were real until I was 17, so, I guess that has to be taken into consideration…
PS: I just tried out “schwing” on Carlita.
Carlita: Oh God, you’ve got a piece of tomato on your shirt! That’s disgusting.
Alan: Disgusting like a fox, baby!
Carlita: What did you just call me?
Alan: Schwaaaammmmmmmppp! I mean, schwonk! I mean, schwank! Wait, where are you going…?
Not a roaring success.
hahaa brilliant, 10/10 for effort Alan!
PS: don’t tell Roger Rabbit cartoons aren’t real
Thanks me (makes me laugh everytime!),
Wish you’d mentioned that earlier. I spoke with him last week.
Alan: Hey Roger, did you know cartoons aren’t real?
Roger: P-p-please, Alan! Don’t say that. Don’t you realize you’re making a big mistake? I need to exist! I swear! It’s not true. The whole thing’s a set up. A scam, a frame job. Ow! Alan! I need to exits. My whole purpose in life is to make… people… laugh! And now I don’t exist!!!
(Roger vanishes. Carlita enters.)
Carlita: Where’s Roger?
Alan: Nerk?
Carlita rolls her eyes.
hahahaha I can happily use LOL knowing that I actually did (nearly covering my keyboard in cereal too!)
If thinks don’t work out with Carlita there’s always Jessica Rabbit…
Hahahaha!
Cheers me (hah!),
Jessica Rabbit is the cartoon version of Carlita. So out of my league.
But I tried…
Alan approaches Jessica
Alan: … Um, nerk?
Jessica Rabbit: Hello…?
Alan: You’re pretty. Tee hee hee hee hee!
She looks me over with distaste.
Jessica Rabbit: You don’t know how hard it is being a woman looking the way I do.
Alan: You don’t know how hard it is being a nerk and looking at a woman looking the way you do. Nump! Nerk! Wack! Whap!
Jessica Rabbit: I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way. Speaking of “way” I’m walking away from you. Please don’t follow me.
Alan: Okoop! Nap! Sloop! Wagoo! Nerk! Nap! Numpy!
Miffed Mildred is slightly pished off 😯
I’d give her a call and tell her how much you miss her if I was you … she may recall some (plenty) little digs that you may have possibly, in error, without really meaning to throw in her direction … and reckon you’re good for a few bob as well! Get on her good side, NOW ….. suck up to her buddy for all you’re worth (not physically – that may make you ill).
P.S. Can you ask Farook if he’s got any of those coconut jobbies left …. I’m hungry 😀
Mighty miffed Mildred is more than morosely manifesting a malevolent momentum of malice.
Suck up to her? Let’s see… Here are a few “small talk” lines I could use…
“Hello, Mildred, you are looking fetchingly stern and patrician today…”
“Hi, Mildred. Did I mention you are something of a goddess to me?”
“Greetings, Mildred. May I get you a cup of coffee? And rub your feet?”
PS: Julie, has NobblySan does something sinister to the little faces? I think he’s been serving them beer and spoiled roti. They look pale and unwell.
PPS: A desiccated coconut is in the mail.
😉 A pale looking yellow winkie face!
the left testicle makes girl babies, the right one makes boys
What does the third one do?
Makes the cover of Weekly World News…
HA!
Surely there is some way you can get in on this $200 million. Isn’t there some blackmail material floating around? Are you absolutely sure you just couldn’t?
I happen to know that there is a perfect moment between inebriation and obliteration (read: impotence) during which one might do just about anything.
Make sure you take photos.
I can help you with that moment between inebriation and obliteration.
I have lots of sheep placenta. Shall I send over a gross?
I’m pretty sure that’s the only way sheep placenta is packaged…
😆
Good point!
I have no need for sheep placenta, dear. No need at all. 😉
Perhaps you should keep it for yourself, for your…you know…problem.
As long as I have my sheep placenta, I have no problems!
😀
Except for these new winky faces. I don’t like the way they look at me.
Damn new winky faces.
They are rather odd, with their one square eye. I’m waiting for them to turn into space invaders.
Yes! I knew I’d seem them before!
Damn return of space invaders.
I’m thinking that if you really want to help out this situation, saving Clark ( and I’m not sure if you like him that much? not in ‘that’ way of course) that you might offer a symbolic left testes for Ms. Mildred.. it goes back to the could/would/million dollar ? thing but…. it might save your ass… well, it’s testicles we’re talking here……………………..
Theme this morning, Sick days, Nurse Myra and Delicate Flower all talking about testicles? What’s up with that?????
Hi delicate flower,
That’s a nice looking hyperlink you’re wearing.
Re. testicles. I guess there’s something about the month of July that brings out a man’s testicles. Testis are in the air.
As for Clark: his ass may be toast and I won’t be buttering that slice.
Sorry? Where am I going with this?
Oh, right! We’re talking testicles. Testis talk. Talking testicular.
Remember – Don’t forget to cram. There will be a test later on.
you like my hyperlink… well thank you.
All this talk of asses and testes has got me a little hot!
I”ll be cramming, but I don’t think is’s gonna be Hamish facts.
This is a testicle. For the next sixty seconds, this station will conduct a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is only a testicle.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
And these are Test Icicles…
I like them.
I suspect Mr. “Puppy” Mills would be shouting “where’s my damn gun?”
This is pretty serious, Alan. It’s one thing to go for the jugular, but to then bypass the torso and head straight down to the bollocks is quite another. It’s quite obvious she wants Clark silenced. And not just your normal every day kind of silence either, but the high-pitched, pre-pubescent/post-castration kind.
By the way Alan, I know this might be a little off-topic but are you sure Clark looks like a guy who’s eaten some bad haggis? I have a hard time believing there is such a thing. Mutton pie…perhaps. Crappit heid, could be.
But haggis?
Aye lass, ye may be reet aboot that wee piece a haggis.
Dead brill observation, bchooled.
Ma mates in Auchterarder would get right pissed if I badmouthed their hame and a said haggis was heinous. They’d tell me to quit ma blethering call me a herry pie faced fannyboz and beat me with cabers. And they’d be damn reet to!
Who’s like us? Damn few and they’re dead.
There once was an edible treat
That was enjoyed by the Scottish elite
It got a bad rap
For looking like crap
And not resembling discernable meat
Damn those dead ones for dying.
The edible treat said “screw this”
I’m off to the land of bliss
Where an edible treat
Is one of the elite
And not viewed as a puddle of piss
Damn those dying ones for being dead.
Damn you for being so vernacularly-endowed!
And damn those lifeless anti-livers as well.
“Get your hands off me, you damned dirty liver!”
Charleton Heston
Planet Of The Livers
There once was a lifeless anti-liver
Whose glandular lips would quiver
It was an alcoholic
Who got too metabolic
And then needed a full time caregiver
There once was a liver who died
While the gall bladder weeped by his side
The other organs claimed
Had he only abstained
Cirrhosis would’ve been left outside
Damn that Charlton Heston…he was a good liver.
Nice!
Then the liver came back from the dead
And announced his name was now Fred
The gall bladder was pleased
And dropped to its knees
And that bastard Fred beat him over the head
Charlton was a good liver. Better than Brad Pitt. Did you see him in “A Liver Runs Through it”? He was appalling.
Yeah, I can’t argue with that. But I guess it also depends on the director.
Did you see Mystic Liver? Clint Eastwood was the main reason that movie killed at the box office. Sean Penn was just his beard.
So true. Mystic Liver was good.
Too bad Liver Phoenix is dead, he’d have made something out of the Sean Penn role.
It is too bad, Alan. Sean Penn is the wurst.
To paraphrase “A Christmas Carol”:
Fucking awesome, BKT. Fucking awesome, everyone!
Hahaaha…
Wait a sec.
I thought that was the exact quote.
It’s the moment that always makes me cry. Tiny Tim enters the room with the bloody and severed head of “Good old dead Uncle Ebenezer” and says, “Fucking awesome, fucking awesome, everyone!”
I’m getting weepy just thinking of it.
I’m a little fuzzy on the quote myself, as I have usually ramped up the “self-medication” to freebasing spinal fluid by that point on an average Xmas Eve.
Me too!
Do you also vomit on Xmas morning and then tell your loved one “I wish I was dead!”?
(If so, we are living similar lives in parallel universes.)
Anyway, given the festivities of the 24th, I will admit that I’m a little sketchy on the quote, but I’m pretty sure that’s it.
I do, Alan. It’s just not Xmas without it.
I also have problems with the ghosts of xmas past dropping hints to xmas future about the things I may have done during xmas present, which is currently in blackout mode.
Past: I have pictures!
Future: Oooooh!!! Show me, show me!!!!
Past & Future: giggle childishly, run off to show Shame and Guilt
Present: substance-riddled automaton running on twitch reactions and the brainstem attempts to reenact a Bhuddist monk protest, but only succeeds in lighting some arm hair on fire before passing out face down in the snow…
Now that is one delightful holiday tapestry you have painted. In the background I hear the joyous Xmas version of dogs barking “Jingle Bells” as tiny, demented elves run about with sharp knives and flailing chainsaws. Oh, and snow. I see lots and lots of snow.
So… anyway…
you were saying there was some excitement at the office today?
😉
Hahahahahahahaha!
Meh, same old, same old.
😉
Too rich…
Try this one for size…
presdave
3rd circle of Hell? or the 4th?
Let me check my Dante.
Hi Alan,
“Oh What a Beautiful Morning…” thanks to good old Mildred! I was afraid that we had heard the last from her, but no, in her wisdom, she chose the cruelest weapon of all:
The high profile Scottish labor lawyer!
What would strike more fear in the hearts of men (at least down here in the lower 48 US States) than the, diabolical, “Scottish labor lawyer?”
Unfortunately, their fame escapes me – but if Otto fears, “cabers blazing,” I’m sure they are something else??
Surely, a mere, “$200 million in damages, her job back, and Clark’s left testicle” is a small price to pay for the pain and humiliation she has suffered, is it not?
Am I pulling for Mildred?
You bet!
Apparently, the old girl still has “IT,” and “It” is causing old Clark to be about to crap in his pants – I especially love that part!
You query, “Why would Mildred want her job back if she wins the 2MM?” Shows YOU don’t know Mildred as do I – REVENGE to all who didn’t so much as lift a finger to defend her as she was being abusively hauled out of the office… (to which I will gladly testify).
And, that could be YOU my dear Alan…
Hee, hee, hee,
Sally P 🙂
I figured you’d be happy, Sally P.
😉
Been reading this for a while and haven’t had the chance to comment but I absolutely love reading your posts! Keep it up lol.
I am very curious about what Clark did. The suspense is killing me!
Hi Anonymously Secret
Thanks for dropping by the office and for the kind words. Much appreciated. Hope to see you again. (I’m not sure what Clark did either, but I think he’s in up to his neck.)
All best,
Alan
$200 million? It’s cheaper to hire a sniper. Meanwhile, Clark needs to start wearing some sort of steel-clad cup.
Hey Marissa,
Just curious…These steel clad cups. Where would I find them? Not that I need one. I’m fine. Yup, all good here. No problems for me. It’s just, I… I have a… friend… yeah, that’s it, a friend… a friend who needs one! Okay, he doesn’t need it, he just requires one… he likes them. Obviously he’s sick, but that’s his problem. Not that I’m judging him… In fact, I’d like to help him out. The truth is, he really needs a steel clad cup. So, please send me an email with information. And any photos you have…
No matter that I’ve read this phrase over and over in the last few minutes, I still see the same thing:
a steel dad cup.
Is it like one of those pencil holders you make for Father’s Day when you’re a kid? Is it a prize, like a golf trophy?
What the hell is a steel dad cup??
(Ha! I see it too.)
Why, it’s just like a steel mom cup.
Except dad wears it.
Hope that clears things up.
Mildred made friends with all of Clark’s “cab drivers.” By the way, how is Shantel?
Hahaha!
Shantel is well. She does a trick with sheep placenta and 12 live ferrets that has to be seen to be believed.
Stupid Stupid Mildred. When she came crying to me about it, I told her that I could quickly get a hush settlement of about $4 million dollars (of course with my 25% fee that would leave her $3million)
Doing the math, Mildred makes $30,000 a year. That is 100 years of her salary.
But Nooooooooooooo…Mildred had to get greedy and listen to her sister who knows a guy who knows a guy who slept with a Scottish Labor lawyer who isn’t even licensed to practice in the US or Canada.
Now this thing will go to a jury and Mildred’s looks just don’t endear anyone to her cause.
My prediction. Hamish owes nothing and Clark keeps his nut…yet ironic in most things he never had any balls.
Well bearman,
This is what happens when you try and help out a feisty old Scottish lady. I suspect if Milly doesn’t get the nut then she’ll come looking for it herself.
I once saw her pare an apple in 5 seconds flat. It was scary as hell.
She has a deft touch with the sharp objects.
Let the drama begin!
And so it shall!
I suspect the drama could get rather heated if Mildred gets her wish regarding Clark’s left gland.
“eaten some bad haggis and is about to pay the price.”
…you’re in fine form, Mr Truitt!
I almost felt sorry for the poor bloke.
Musta come from the same place that Duncs got his “bargain” haggis from!
Hi Julie,
Fancy meeting you here….
You’re not the only one after a rich partner; I’m considering chatting Mildred up and getting in on a slice of that $200M.
NobblySan,
You’re a brave, brave, man.
Julie…
You can buy bargain haggis?
Why wasn’t I informed?
Thank you NobblySan!
And thank you for coming to the defense of Mr. Mills’ “half wit” of a brother. I suspect he was highly amused and greatly appreciative.
PS: I still need to know. Have you done something sinister to the little faces? My guess is you’ve been serving them beer and spoiled curry. They look pale and unwell
It would be an absolute tragedy if they were unwell…
… and died.
Ha!
Still, if they did die, that might get the steady stream of MJ death coverage out of the news for this bigger and more important story. Let’s face it, the death of yellow winky face is real news.
I must try and make this happen.
Let me know if I can help.
Just don’t tell Julie. This could rock her world.
What an evil plan. 👿 😈 👿 😈
Damn but those evil emotocons look like the devil.
Ha!
Aw, look. He’s laughing…
So cute!
Yeah he’s all fat and smiley. Twisted isn’t nearly as evil as he used to be.
Where did he go wrong, Claire?
I don’t know, Alan. I’m so disappointed. You’d think he’d be even more evil hanging around us. This may be Nobbly’s doing since he has made the smileys pasty.
I can’t believe Yuri or Vasily would have anything to do with it, but you never know.
Ha! Nice. Timing is everything!
http://madhatters.me.uk/2009/07/08/daily-chat-8th-jul-2009/#comments
🙂
me thinks Clarkie better hire himself an Irish attorney
Ex-provisional IRA, and still with his stock of semtex and an AK47.
Just to be on the safe side.
Faith ‘n Begorrah, me thinks you are right!
why scottish lawyers? Are they better, more devious?
Maybe Clark should start wearing a kilt commando style and paint his face like Mel Gibson.
Oh the left nut controls the right – didn’t you know.
Hahaha! I know it now.
And it’s something I will never forget!
Is there good haggis?
If it’s done right, believe it or not, yes.
I think FJ would disagree but Dave Hambidge will concur in spades with what I’m saying.
Too flippin right boss!!
I understand that some delicate palates might quiver at the sight of a recently shot and fully plucked haggis.
But, consider the raptures that are generated by equally bizzare looking polish/german black sausages/knakwertz or whatever you call them. Or indeed by a badly prepared burger, curry, lasagne etc?
It is all in the QUALTY OF THE ingredients, so hop to;
http://www.scottishhaggis.co.uk/
to learn more about this excellent ethnic dish.
(COI I earn £10 for every link to that site from sickdays… well one can dream!)
dave
Ha!
Haggis Rules!
Pictures?
Pictures?!
Pictures?!?
And lawyers to boot?! AARRGH!
And just this past weekend we were celebrating the birthday of the good ol’ U.S. of A where problems were solved with hot lead.
Gone are the days where co-workers and bosses flee in terror as fear envelops them in the dark satin cover of fright. Where smitten ex-employees wander the halls painting the walls with brains and blood. Where they would at least have the decency to puke on all the desks and dive off the 7th floor…
*sigh*
What is this? France?
If she does get part of Clark’s seed, then certainly he’s damaged stock. No strong man would yield his manhood for anything less than cancer.
Hah! Yes, it really and truly is a sad statement when we can no longer solve our problems with the sweet kiss of hot lead and must resort to the nefarious shenanigans of hired lawyers waving lurid photographs. Still, it’s nice to have the circus in town.
These days you speak of have a truly magical quality and you romanticize them exquisitely. I remember those good old days of blood and brains on the walls and decent, upstanding pukers.
France? We should be so lucky. This is Albania, 2084 (those who can travel into the future will truly understand the dark menace of this reference).
Clark is already pretty ineffectual, nut or no nut, but I think if Mildred can pluck the fruit off his tree sack then it’s all but over for him.
Someone should just take that phrase literally: $200 million in damages.
“I’m looking for $200 million in damages.”
“Have you tried Tornado Alley? It’s a start. And all of it uninsurable or uninsured.”
“We’d like $200 million in damages.”
“We all have dreams. Do you have $200 million in assets? If so, Charles Foster Kane is headed to your place and he’s in a terrible mood.”
“The court has award Typhoid Mildred $200 million in damages. Please form a line to the left. The bailiff will secure your blunt and damaging object of choice.”
It really would be a better world, wouldn’t it?
McDonalds’s could have the “$200 million in damages burger”
Ironic T-shirts could read “Ask me about my $200 million in damages!”
And the Gang of Four could rerecord one of their all time best songs and rename it “$200 million in damaged goods”
Well over 100 comments and barely 24 hours since the original post hit the surf. My breeky is late as I have been delayed in getting up to speed!
The sequence of limericks above is smashing BTW.
Haggis and placenta? I handled many of the latter during a research programme back in the mid-1970’s and am adamant that the former, even if a bit off, looks, smells and feels much better. As for taste, I never had the balls…
TM has gone for Clark’s left bollock as it is the only one he has left. What is really a medical secret is that Clark had his right knacker removed when it twisted into a torsion whilst enjoying his earliest sexual adventure at the age of 9 years. On the adage that the sweetmeat in the scrotum is worth much more than the goolie in the jar, Clark will cooperate.
And the photos are obviously of his lopsided perineum BTW, what else did you imagine…
Just be thankful that you don’t work for Keihin Electric Express Railway in Japan. Why? Go to;
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/japan/5757194/Workers-have-daily-smile-scans.html
Enjoy your day/night wherever you are,
presdave
Ahh, Mr Hambridge…. great minds think alike:-
http://madhatters.me.uk/2009/07/07/smile-you-miserable-bastards/
Er, Senhor NobblySan, I have made a small discovery. We seem to be within a few miles of each other, me North Staffordshire; you just north of Manchester at a guess?
Yipes, have to behave myself!
dave
Indeedy, El Pres.
I am the Semi-Scouse-Semi-Scots cultural attache to the Glorious Peoples Republic of Oldham-sur-Mer.
Between me, thee, and the gatepost… I’m actually a plant (small geranium to be precise). MI6 have placed me here to keep an eye on the situation with the Yorkshire separatists who are getting very active in Saddleworth. They fear an insurgency, leading to an unaceptable rise in the ferret and whippet population.
A brave man to admit to living in Oldham these days, what with the ferrets, international relationship tensions etc.
But, would an MI6 geranium tell the truth?
I make it about 6 miles direct flight from Oldham to Saddleworth. Would it not be better for a short range sensing geranium to be planted at Bleak Hey Nook? Or maybe even Dobcross, if heavily ringfenced with mulch to protect its fragile roots against the rivers of chipfat that flow from the hills into the fastfood joints of central Manchester?
dave
Cheers, presdave…
Much limerick credit must, of course, go to bschooled. A very, very funny lady.
http://justmakingconvo.com/
This haggis and placenta handling programme – why am I just hearing about this? 😉 The news of Clark’s adventures at the age of 9 was also a revelation of the most revelatory sort. By the way, that sweetmeat adage is a thing of joy. It will make me smile all day – and should I stop wavering in my smiling, I will feel the shame that no doubt the employees at Keihin Electric Express Railway in Japan feel when they fail at their smiling duties. Now where did I put that smile scanner…?
Thanks for the props, Alan, but you are the true poetic genius.
You put the “me” in rhyme. “Me” as in you being the me in rhyme, of course. Not me as in me…or the commenter, who’s also me.
Me know what I mean.
My pleasure — and you are too kind.
You put the “me” in comedy. “Me” as in you being the me in comedy, of course. Not me as in me…or the commenter, who’s also me.
Look at me, I just stole that line from you (aka: me) and credited it to me (aka: me). That wasn’t very sporting of me.
Call me (me, not you) a joke killer (aka. Farook), but I get way too much pleasure from double entendres. It’s what I do.
Me too. I actually studied “The Fine Vulgar Art of Mrs. Slocombe’s Double Entendres”
And I studied under Mrs. Slocombe (nudge, wink!). Her frequent and hilarious references to her “pussy” really were bon mots of joy.
HA! “Heel”arious! (double nudge, half-wink! mild twitch)
You had me at Slocombe…
Gotta love Slocombe and her pussy (eye twitching winks, reckless nudging)!
“Gotta love Slocombe and her pussy!”
Do you know that I say this phrase 20 times a day?
25 on Sundays.
Do not speak ill of the dead;
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mollie_Sugden
dave
I come not to bury Slocombe but to praise her.
I suppose we had better give some good folk a sporting chance with this aspect of the matter;
Good call, Mr. Presidente,
Truth be told, I didn’t know she had died!
She and her pussy will always have a warm spot in my heart and other regions.
I think Don Mills said it best: “I understand that poor Mrs. Slocombe passed away just a few days ago. No word on whats happened to her pussy. I suspected it died of old age years ago but I’m not sure. If not, I hope they find a good home for it.”
RIP: Mrs. Slocombe/Mary Isobel ‘Mollie’ Sugden (21 July 1922 – 1 July 2009)
Damn, I hate being so busy right now, I seem to be missing out. Funny stuff man and hilarious comments. I’ll be back Friday and hopefully will be home for a few weeks.
Yours in dusty lassitude,
FJ
Watch out for merkins!
Oh don’t start all that GW Bush (sic) ‘Proud to be a merkin’ shit again…please.
HA!
NobblySan — you so damn funny!
Such levity and jocularity here……
Now, if I could inject just the itsiest bitsiest dribbles of seriousness into this post.
Miss Mildred unfortunately sounds like the perfect government employee: no matter how legit the sacking may be, they will always sue to get their job back (including back pay)….and will always win.
That being said, sounds like Mildred is playing her cards right. If you’re gonna go down, you might as well take as many bodies as you can with you.
…or small spherical bits of bodies.
Hahaha!
NobblySan — the devil is in the details.
G,
Agreed on Typhoid Milly,
She’s got the perfect government employee mindset and she’s a ferocious Scot. That deadly combo is deadlier than a burger and fries.
And like our pal NobblySan has most hilariously pointed out, I think Mildred has her eye on one particular showpiece.
Finally, I’m back!
Well, HR should tell Mildred aka M-600 that she was fired coz Clark had feelings for her and was afraid that it will lead to inappropriate behavior on his part @ Hamish.
In short, they were trying to protect her modesty.
I figure it will be a quicker route to re-programming her into stalking Clark…
Sure would put legal action out of her mind…
What say?
I say — welcome back, Archie!
I trust all is well.
I think most of the feelings Clark had for Typhoid Milly were of the darker nature. But the results would still have been inappropriate. More criminally so. And that could have landed Clark in jail. And I don’t think he’d survive jail. Even if he had Ram as a cellmate. Or should that be especially if he had Ram as a cellmate!
🙂
Now it would be mucho interestimo to see how Clark would fare in jail… Ram will loose his marbles. Don’t you think he has enough going on with Traci and his “death-row inmates” obsession?
On second thought, you could start a bet @ Hamish.
“How long will Clark last?”
By the way, Did you know I’m applying for a temp job @ Hamish?
😛
Hah!!!!
I’ll put in a good word for you! Let me know when you’ll be by.
Yes! Everyone loves a good office pool. “The Clark Death Watch!”
You’re right, of course. Poor Ram has enough troubles as is.
🙂
You know what, Archie?
On second thought — let’s give this a try! I’m off to run it past Trudy from HR right now.
😉
Get back in Trudy’s good graces! We’ll see who gets Mildred’s comfy chair!
🙂
Comfy and it’s ergonomic!
WOWSERS! Its all happening at Hamish Industries! LOSTL!
Mildred SHOULD get some sort of compensation, but suing for 200 million dollars seems a bit excessive! I wouldnt sue but come to an amicable agreement where testicles were not involved and everyone can walk away with their jobs and joy!
Mildred also sounds like shes looped out on the wacky juice! LOSTL!
Have a great day Alan!
Bob
Bob,
Thank wowsers you’re here. And thank goodness too.
Typhoid Mildred is eccentric and highly strung, Bob. But she’s a damned formidable woman and while she may act at times like she’s humming on the WJ (wacky juice), I suspect her ferocious nature has gotten the best of her. I think your mum would like her. They are both fans of string cheese. It’s a shame we didn’t have the likes of a Bob Trusty in our office. I suspect that would give it the harmony it so desperately needs – and everyone could keep their testicles.
But you have bigger fish to conquer, Bob. And for that I applaud you. And one day the whole world shall.
Nice to see you, Bob. Remember to keep thinking clean thoughts.
LOSTL! a bob trusty in your office would be delightful! if only i was qualified for anything of the office type of nature!
Ill always remember where i started, alan, and the people that got me here! So the world will always be conquered by me AND you! HOORAY!
My thoughts are always clean! mum says she can read my mind and that if i ever have a dirty thought, that she would come into my brain and scrub it with salt, water and lemon juice. Just for good measure!
Bob
Go Mildred!
My thoughts exactly. Only I usually add the word “away” in the middle of the mix!
🙂
Mildred in go go boots.
Hmm, there’s an image that’s forever burned into my head.
Nice to see you, Bernice!
I *almost* admire Mildred for doing something that will ensure that she’ll never have to work again. Yay no day job!!!
Mildred’s Bloody “Day Job Free” Day
9.00am: Wake up. Start laughing like a bloody loon…
12.00pm: Stop bloody laughing to eat nice haggis lunch.
1pm: Haggis finished. Start bloody laughing and hooting…
5pm: Pause and reflect that if she had a job she’d just be bloody finishing it for the day. Howl with bloody laughter.
7pm: Dinner and much bloody chuckling…
8pm. A night out on the town. Gales of bloody laughter.
Home whenever: Laughs herself to bloody sleep.
Repeat next morning at 9.00am.
Day 3 of the above regime: Sits weeping in foetal position in corner of bathroom, reflecting on lost companionship, and the fact that she may never see her secretly beloved Alpo again.
Day 4: Considers options to spend the rest of her life with her beloved Alpo
Day5: Visits local library and checks out a copy of Stephen King’s ‘Misery’
Pahahaha!
(NobblySan — comedy machine.)
Day 6. Alpo answers door to find a smiling Mildred holding a 5 iron.
Day 7. Alpo regains consciousness only to discover he is tied into his bed, has two broken legs and one nasty gash on his forehead. Escape it would appear, is impossible.
Day 8. Mildred goes shopping for “frilly underwear.”
Sorry…. I’m scared of what I’ve started here.
Mildred with a sledgehammer…… arghhh!
Sleep is now a thing of the past.
Ah, well.
There has to be an upside.
I know!
More time to drink!
Must have had a lot of whisky to wash down the haggis to take a whole hour. Or did that include the whole ‘shooting, plucking, elviscerating, hanging, steeping, roasting and eating routine?’
dave
Sounds like he shouldn’t have messed with Midlred, or just re-assigned her to something else.
I don’t feel any sympathy for Clark. It’a hard to feel compassion for someone whos’s not exactly a paragon of good behavior.
Oh No! She sued? Suddenly she has lost all of the allure she held for me. If only she would have slashed a few tires and set a fire or two……….