Some pompous slimy snake...

today...last day of training. Whoo-hoo. Worst part is, One of our bosses does the last bit of the day: 2-4 in the afternoon, on Emergency Response or Situations or some such crap. Oh it's boring, always is. He's a pompous ass. Puffs his chest out, blathers on and on, saying things he thinks are funny, but are just sad. And not really saying anything at all. It would take him a half hour to say hello.

This year, I decided I was gonna see how many of his "sayings" I could remember and write down. And I'll list them below, in alphabetical order. I know they're all taken out of context, but really, even if you'd have heard them IN context, they would still sound idiotic.

• And there they are, through the magic of electronic engineering.
• Don't you know that's when Mrs. Schmetz is gonna be on the phone about why little Johnny didn't get his underpants back from the laundry.
• Get a couple guys in kilts with big axes and big swords and send them in to get things done.
• I'd snarl and growl and look real nasty, maybe bite someone in the shin.
• In case little Johnny forgot the cutout from Hustler and wants to take it with him.
• Is that gonna be a tall order or dirt simple?
• It's kinda like being the caterer at the President's wedding.
• Let's pump it up and use day shift.
• No plan survives contact with the enemy.
• Not too worried about that, cause I haven't seen any 500 pound rolls of magnesium laying around here.
• Put 200 of us in a car and motor on down to the ER?
• Sani-pots...got to have them sani-pots.
• Urinate on your bandage and hold it to your nose.
• Watch out for the poodle dogs and clowns.
• We won't discuss my 'high' opinion of the media in this town.
• We won't talk to the TV, the radio, the little old lady who writes for the Gazette.
• We're not intentionally killing a rainforest here.
• What a bunch of wahoos.
• What we gonna do, call the bluebirds or hunker down?
• When the tanker truck rolls over on the interstate and unleashes the methyl-ethyl-bad stuff.
• The whole place is going nuts, and after turkey balls for the fourth time this week, why not?
• Would you make Joe Montana a defensive end?

*SIGH*...this kinda stuff, on a Friday, during the afternoon, last thing before we go home, after a filling meal. Oh well, at least it's over now!

POLT

I am so fucking sick of this stinking little buttcrack of a town! - Neil, Mysterious Skin