Donor List

This is my plea to America. We need your help! Does anyone know how to get on a national registry to become a donor recipient? The Bossman is in desperate need of a pair of testicles. We must hurry, before it is too late.

Paris' New Hat!

Not much to report these days with Bucky gone and the Beady Eyed Little Bastard away for a few weeks, but we can usually count on Paris Hilton to keep things interesting.

She strolls into work the other morning deep in thought. We all wish her a good morning, but she is so focused on whatever is on her mind that it doesn't even register that people are speaking to her. In fact, I don't even think she knows where she is or how she got here. Finally she breaks her silence to report "On my lunch hour today, I need to buy a straw cowboy hat."

So now we all know what weighs heavy on her mind!

Beady Eyed Little Bastard

I'm thinking of writing a children's story:

The Tale of the Beady Eyed Little Bastard

Once upon a time, a beady eyed little bastard lived in a crappy house with his wide-assed wife.

Every morning he would wake up and put his contacts into his beady little eyes.

Then he would put on his pants and pull them up to his armpits and cinch them really tight with a belt.

Most mornings, the beady eyed little bastard would drive his butt-ugly Subaru Brat to work.

He liked to wait until everyone else had been working for at least 3 hours.

He would get to the office then go to the store for cream.

He always bought the cream on his company credit card, but yelled at other people in the office if they used his cream.

Then he would come back to the office and spend an hour making the world's most complicated pot of coffee.

By the time he finished his first cup of coffee it would be time to have lunch with his frizzy haired mistress.

He would be pretty stressed out after his 2 hour lunch so he needed to wind down with a bike ride.

After his ride he needed to decompress and discuss his splits outside the office window for an hour.

Wow, is it time to go home already? Time sure flies at work. Now the beady eyed little bastard goes home to his wide-assed wife and delinquent children.

And they live happily ever after!

Happy Days!

This has been brewing for a few weeks now, but I was hesitant to say anything until I knew it was actually going to happen. Now, I'm happy to report that it has happened. What is this news that has made my Friday the 13th a good day for me? Bucky is gone. That's right, gone. Fired.

It all started last week. Well, in reality, it started last fall when he first freaked out, yelled at everyone, quit, and stormed out. Unfortunately, his retirement didn't stick and he was back 2 hours later. I won't go into all the nasty details of the past 8 months; I'm saving that for my novel. Let's just say he was on my list long before he stole my hamburger.

Back to last week. Bucky was once again homeless and living in the office. He sleeps on the floor, gets up early the next morning, showers then heads out to a job interview. He knew his time here was fleeting so he was trying to stay a step ahead. While he is gone on his job interview, we bring in a potential replacement for an interview. Bucky comes back from his interview outraged that we would have the nerve to interview someone while he is still here. Excuse me?? We all know he is looking for another job, yet we aren't allowed to find a replacement? So Bucky pitches a huge fit that leads to him crying and calling Shaggy a liar. Apparently, Bucky still thinks Shaggy wrecked the prized bicycle. That was the final straw for Shaggy and he took it upon himself to fire Bucky in the Bossman's absence.

A firing at any functional office means you are fired, pack up your stuff, turn in your key, collect your final paycheck and hit the road. A firing at dysfunctional office means you can still work and live here for 2 1/2 weeks.

A couple of days ago, it comes to the attention of the Bossman that Bucky isn't producing any work. What's that you say Bossman? Someone who has been fired isn't producing? How strange. In most instances a fired employee is the highest producer. Bossman is outraged and demands Bucky gone. Two seconds later I have his final paycheck ready to go, but of course Bucky left at noon. First thing the next morning, Bucky collects his final check, gathers his clothes out of the closet, grabs his toiletries and is out the door.

Oh, but before he leaves he manages to leave a note on the bathroom mirror saying "We'll see whose cryin'?" and calls us all liars and cowards.

And another one bites the dust...

Maybe Wide Load Loves Me After All

The other day I was really really mad at the Bossman so I was in his office telling him exactly what I thought. I think the term "spineless doormat" was said more than once. Right in the middle of my tirade, Wide Load enters the room, walks right up to the Bossman and pukes on his feet. Just when I think that cat can't stand me, he goes and does something like this - and totally redeems himself!

Guess What I'm Eating Right Now?

Yes! A Hudson's Hamburger! Is it from Bucky? No. It is from some drunk guy named Arnold who wandered in off the streets with a whole bag of them. I am not too proud (or cautious) to accept hamburgers from anyone. Paris is eating one too. If we go down, we go down together.

Good Bye Chicken Hawk

Maybe my posts tend to dwell on Bucky a bit too much. Sometimes I get so caught up that I forget about all the other crazies that work at Dysfunctional Office. I hadn't even had a chance to post about Chicken Hawk and now he is gone. Back to the slammer, the big house, prison, lock up, the rock. You get the idea. This is exactly where Chicken Hawk was when I first started working here almost 2 years ago. Come to think of it, this is where Chicken Hawk was 2 1/2 years ago when Idaho started working here. In fact, Chicken Hawk's imprisonment is the reason Idaho was hired. You may notice a pattern here; the Bossman does not have a spine when it comes to getting rid of people.

So, anyway, it was about a year ago that the Chicken Hawk wrote a letter to the judge on the Bossman's behalf. "All you have to do is sign your name" is what Chicken Hawk told Bossman. The letter was a humble plea to be freed on work release. The letter claimed that Chicken Hawk was "quite possibly the best employee Dysfunctional Office has ever had." Yes, because employees that wind up in the clink are often the finest of employees. I better delve into some illegal underworld before I hit the Bossman up for a raise.

Needless to say, Chicken Hawk was hired and became a functioning part of society for about 10 months. Then he becomes MIA. Doesn't show up at the job sites. Doesn't return phone calls. Oh, now might be the time to mention he is driving around in a company vehicle.

Last Friday we get the call. Chicken Hawk is back in the poke. I am the lucky one that gets to pick up the company truck from the probation office where Chicken Hawk was hauled off. The back window is broke out, there is garbage and rotting food all over the place. I gingerly climb in and start driving. I find out after the fact that it is still on the police's list of vehicles to watch out for. Lucky I managed to make it back to the office without joining the Chicken Hawk.

Paris and I have spent the last week cleaning up his personal files which contain a number of pictures, which took up 15 CD's, plus I have been fielding some pretty interesting calls on his cell phone. Paris has downloaded conversations he records on the company's Dictaphone. Oh, they are funny. For as much as it seems like hiring, re-hiring, re-hiring again, then re-hiring again an ex-con, when Chicken Hawk was on, he really was the best employee Dysfunctional-Office has ever had. I'm going to miss him. Goodbye Chicken Hawk. Until Bossman hires you again.....

Seriously??

OK, I know I just posted something a few hours ago. And, by posting again so soon, it may appear as though I do nothing at my job all day. But, some stories are just too important to let go without being told.

This morning, Bucky arrives at work and speaks to me. He hasn't spoken a word to me since he stole my hamburger. Oh, well, he did speak to me once a week or so ago when he tried to tell me that I have no business giving people a hard time for complaining about stuff when I am Dysfunctional Office's number one complainer. I told him I might dish it out, but at least I could take it. Unlike him. That shut him up fast and he hasn't spoken to me since. Until this morning.

This morning Bucky walks right up to me and wants to know what time Shaggy arrived at the office yesterday. As I arrive at 6 a.m., I'm usually the first one here. I told Bucky we both arrived at the same time. Then he wanted to know if I ACTUALLY saw Shaggy drive into the parking lot. I told Bucky I really wasn't paying attention. I had other things on my mind, such as my vacation countdown. So here is what happened:

Bucky bought a new road bike over the weekend. So, of course, the first thing anyone does when they buy a new bicycle is bring it into their office to store it. Bucky has his wages garnished and always has creditors calling here looking for him, but somehow he came up with the money to buy a new bike. As he told me this morning "You of all people know how serious I am about my ironman training." First off, I don't know how serious he is about it and secondly, I don't care. But, that is neither here nor there. Back to the facts.

He brings his brand new sparkling perfect $800 bike into the office to store. Monday was Cinco De Mayo so he goes out drinking after work and comes back to Dysfunctional Office at 8:00. Don't ask me why, but I'm starting to suspect he is living here again. That's right, I said again. Sometime between 8:00 Monday night and 6:00 Tuesday morning, someone took his precious bike for a joy ride and wrecked it.

Bucky suspects Shaggy and thinks he got to work around 5:30 am rode the bike, wrecked the bike, then sat in his car until I arrived so it looked like we got there at the same time and I would be his alibi.

Now, Bucky realizes there is nothing he can do at this point. His bike is wrecked and he is just going to have to accept that. All he asks is that Shaggy come clean about his crime. Just be a man and fess up already. I told Bucky I knew how important it was for someone to come clean why they have wronged another person in the office. Do you think Bucky took that opportunity to come clean with me? Do you? Do you really? No, of course he didn't. He has more important matters on his mind.

Now, he is trying really hard not to be paranoid about this but either Shaggy is to blame or someone broke into the office in the middle of the night and wrecked his bike. My theory is Bucky had a bit too much cerveza on Cinco De Mayo and wrecked it himself.

GD 15K

For anyone who watches The Office, perhaps the title of this post looks a bit familiar?

Sunday was the "big race" Bloomsday. For some godforsaken reason, this race is HUGE. 60,000 or so people show up to race this 15K (7.5 miles). I don't get what all the hubub is about (is this how hubub is spelled? I've said it, but never actually written it out before. I never had a reason until now.) Anywho, Dysfunctional Office sponsored two teams (10 people) for the race. If you have a corporate sponsor, you get to be up towards the front of the start line, right behind the Kenyans. That is the only thing that makes this race worthwhile to me. It requires getting up early, driving 20 minutes to the mall, then hopping a bus and riding for another 20 minutes to the start line. A whole lot of effort for a Sunday morning, if you ask me.

The day before was my birthday and Idaho and I had no intention of letting the GD 15K get in the way of my birthday party. We drank gin and tonics and ate nachos along with the rest of my family. So, when Sunday morning rolled around, the last thing I was in the mood for was Bloomsday.

We had some last minute subsitutions as Paris Hilton's mom had her finger bitten off by her dog and wasn't able to babysit Paris' baby. Mini-Idaho was able to jump in at the last minute. It was fun having Mini-Idaho there, but I was a bit disappointed that Paris and her secret training wouldn't be able to take down those in the office that treat a whimpy GD 15K like it is the Olympics and that there is actual prize money riding on this event.

As those of us that were having second thoughts about the whole event casually strolled to the start line, the dysfunctional competitors pushed there way up to the front to start with the always-favorite Kenyans and other speed demons.

The gun goes off and 60,000 people start pushing there way through the downtown streets. People are screaming and pumping their fists, while I'm thinking maybe those leftover nachos that sat on my kitchen counter all night weren't the best breakfast choice. Those with a point to prove were quickly separated from the rest of us. The Virgin and I stuck together. We had a game plan. We would stop at every aid station, we would listen to every band along the way, and if a cute girl happened to run past us, I would be sure to tell her that the Virgin was available. The only thing missing from our perfect plan was money for an ice cream bar and a beer along the way. This is something I will need to remember for next year.

So, in the end we all fared well. Those who pushed themselves to the limit ended up with the same exact t-shirt and slice of pizza as the rest of us, so I guess I don't see the point.

Then, we had Monday to look forward to. Where we knew we would have to listen to the annoying ones re-hash every step of the race, spew out there minutes per mile for each mile, and hobble around complaining about how sore they were from pushing their bodies to the brink and living to tell the tale.

I couldn't have picked a better time for a vacation. I'm ready to get away from Dysfunctional Office for a couple of weeks!

Revenge?

Bucky has a prized ipod, which, technically, isn't even his - he stole it from the Slug before the Slug got fired and never returned it. The Slug came by the office the other day to try to get it back and Bucky wouldn't give it to him. I guess this would explain why it is Bucky's "prized" ipod. Anywho, his prized ipod turns up missing 4 days ago. I never even knew, or cared, that is was missing, but I guess it was recovered yesterday sitting on a desk in the darkest depths of the basement.

So yesterday Bucky was walking around the office confronting people trying to get a confession. He confronted Paris and when she told him she didn't even know we had a basement, Bucky said I must have stole it in retaliation for the hamburger.

Now, both Idaho and I have been working harder than usual lately. We have both been working at Dysfunctional Office, at the Satellite Office and at our respective homes. I really don't have the time or energy to even give a crap about Bucky's ipod, let alone exact my revenge by hiding it. If I was going to exact my revenge on his ipod, I probably would have smashed it into 100 pieces and poured it inside his jar of protein powder.

Global Warming or Ice Age???

Not that this is huge office gossip.....but I just gotta say it! "I am so sick of the SNOW!" It is April for crying out loud, we are supposed to be playing soccer, wearing shorts, and drinking summertime drinks. Flowers are supposed to be growing, trees are supposed to be budding, and yards are supposed to be getting mowed and manicured. It has snowed five of the eight days in April! Global Warming??? I don't think so, I am thinking it is the start of the next ice age people. I know we live in Idaho, but come on! I don't remember a year when it has snowed this much in, dare I say it again, APRIL!

Okay, to the office. There have a been a few conspiracy shakedowns, but nothing that we have not been able to deal with. I swear I don't know where some people come up with some of the outlandish things that they say?

Our office has currently entered two teams in Bloomsday, a semi local seven mile jaunt. We have a few in the office who are interested in getting a free entry, getting a little exercise and having some fun. Then there are the others. You know the ones I mean. The ones that train three times a day, eat nutritional powder like it's going out of style, always know their pace down to about 5 decimal places and talk about their pace on a daily basis. Paris Hilton has been running and I'm hoping she kicks everyone's butt. She is thought to be the underdog, but I think she is secretly training and hoping for an upset. Only time will tell and that time is in early May.

What else...........I guess not a lot. A replacement Hudson or anything even resembling a hamburger never showed up. If I know Rosie though, revenge will be hers, just give her some time. Things have been a little hectic, but really nothing to come unglued about, other than the freakin snow.

I guess that's it for now. I am currently in Montana on business and will be back at the end of the week, maybe some exciting news will be waiting when I return. Like oh I don't know, maybe someone will have their pace down to a 6:41045672889562543789 mile!

Update

The fine people (ok, person) at rosiethewonder dog has kindly requested an update. My apologies to anyone and everyone I have left hanging. So, without further ado, I am posting an update to all the unfinished happenings at Dysfunctional Office.

Paris & the IUD
I am happy to report that the IUD is firmly in place. This was a great relief to Paris as well as the Virgin. The Virgin seems to be getting along well after the incident. Counseling has helped, and the nightmares are fewer and farther between. Maybe someday he will be able to make eye contact with a woman again! Paris is not taking any chances, though, and has instructed her boyfriend to wear BCG's. For those of you who don't know, these are military issued glasses which the enlisted dub "birth control glasses" because they are so unattractive (my apologies to anyone who is currently sporting a pair).

My Hamburger
Maybe my hesitance in posting an update is because this is still a rather sensitive subject for me to talk about. Last I wrote, Paris had received an anonymous tip that my prime suspect was, indeed, the culprit. All I needed for the situation to be rectified was a new hamburger, which I'm sad to report, I have not received. It doesn't need to be a Hudson Hamburger, even, as I'm quite hooked on the Wendy's Spicy Baconator. Still, every day my desk is void of any meat products.

The Cat
For the most part, Wide Load is leaving me alone. He has a tendency to torture one person at a time and it seems my time has passed. He has been paying special attention to the Virgin lately, so hopefully there will be a post involving Wide Load and the Virgin in the near future.

While there has been plenty of unpostable drama here, blog-worthy events have been a little slow. Maybe now would be a good time for Idaho to tell a story from Dysfunctional-Office Past. There really is an bottomless pool to draw from here, so like a little kid who likes to hear a story over and over again, I will put out my plea to Idaho - Tell the story of Bucky and lost lost wheel, please, please please!

Anonymous Tip

Just when I thought the trail had gone cold, I received some news on the hamburger caper today. Paris Hilton got an anonymous tip yesterday. It turns out the person that I suspected all along (Bucky) admitted to the crime. I knew it was him from the start. For one, the cleaning crew spotted him in the office the night of the theft. Another telltale sign is that his guilty conscience hasn't allowed him to speak to me for the past week. I told Paris if she were to let the tipster know that if a hamburger were to appear on my desk one day, I would let the whole thing go. Well, not really let it go, I'm not very good at that. But, I would quit talking about it until Bucky does something else to piss me off.

Dysfunctional Office Pool

Idaho asked me to make this post yesterday, but as you can see from his latest, I was a little busy trying to track down the culprit that stole my hamburger. I did some investigating and the case seems to be at a standstill until we bring in the polygraph. So, in the meantime, our little dysfunctional office now has a swimming pool in the basement.

A couple of months ago, the Boss Man's private bathroom was made public by punching a door into the hallway and closing down the door that is in his office. It was a perfectly functional, albeit outdated bathroom, until Horn Hunter took it upon himself to remodel. The self proclaimed "perfectionist" got to work gutting the bathroom, re-doing the walls and floors and installing a new toilet and sink.

Far be it from me to criticize someone else's work when it was obviously a job that I could never undertake on my own; but the fact that I couldn't perform this project would lead me to believe I wouldn't be able to spot a "perfectionist's" flaws. I mean, really, how is an amateur such as myself to know that a big glob of soldering thrown on a pipe will not keep the water out better than solder applied all the way around a pipe? I guess I have a lot to learn.

Anywho, it must have been a defective pipe or defective solder because I know it couldn't be defective Horn Hunter that caused the pipe to leak the very first day the bathroom was back in operation. The Boss Man headed into the basement and I heard him scream like a little girl and run up the stairs. Soon enough, Horn Hunter was headed down with a mop and bucket. I didn't see it first hand, as it wasn't clarified until the mess was cleaned up whether it was a fresh water swimming pool or something that seemed to gross to consider (it ended up being clean, by the way), but I hear it was only deep enough to use as a wading pool. Horn Hunter was busy the rest of the day trying to fix the leak, so maybe by today we have a lap pool.

The Missing Hudson???

A theft has engulfed our office. Like a nasty black cloud, it has overwhelmed all work and progress. No work can be completed until the culprit is sought. Well, at least for Rosie.

Excited to get to work this morning, Rosie arrived smiling ear to ear. Why you may ask? Because she knew that in the refrigerator she had, left over from yesterday, a Hudson hamburger. Not just any hamburger mind you, but a Hudson hamburger. Known for it's ginormous hamburgers, Hudson's has made a name for itself being in business for over a hundred years, serving hamburgers that cannot be reproduced. Yesterday, the Virgin bought two for Rosie while at lunch. Quickly she ate one, but saved the other for this mornings breakfast. You can imagine her shock when she opened the refrigerator, and it was GONE!

Like Sherlock Holmes, she has diligently worked her way around the office interviewing would be criminals and trying to put this mystery to rest. Though no thief has been apprehended yet, there are a couple of shady looking suspects. Rosie's work will continue until the hamburger thief admits to their guilt and boldly takes the rap.

By the way, Rosie in charge of payroll. I would not want to be on the receiving end of the check of the would be thief if Rosie solves this mystery. I will do my best to post updates as they happen................

My IUD is Falling Out!

Not mine, the receptionist's (aka Paris Hilton). She is all stressed out because she thinks it is falling out. Our very perceptive and sensitive co-worker, lets call him The Virgin, asked her what was troubling her. She tried to be kind and tell him it might make him uncomfortable. He was very confident that he could handle whatever she was dishing out. I told him he better have a seat and take his coat off, it was about to get a little warm in here.

Paris tells the Virgin "I think my IUD is falling out."

"What's that?" the oh-so-naive Virgin asks.

Paris proceeds to tell him all about it while the Virgin starts turning red and keeps pulling at his collar like it is choking him. I'll give him credit, he gathered his composure very well and asked some very intelligent questions on the subject:

How long is it supposed to last?

How do you know it is still there?

How does the doctor rectify the situation?

Does our health insurance cover this?

The Virgin stumbles away, off to do some research on the subject, promising himself and Paris that he will become a more informed Virgin so he can offer up some sound advice on the subject in future times of turmoil.

Cats are Gross

After a fabulous weekend filled with pampering myself, eating and drinking too much, and hanging out with the family, I was none too thrilled about heading back to the office Monday morning. Nevertheless, I arrived early, the first one through the door, where I was promptly greeted by the office cat, Wide Load. I'm not really a cat person, but Wide Load and I have learned to co-exist during the work week. I was a little surprised when he jumped on my desk looking for some attention, but I let him sit on my desk calendar. However, I drew the line when he climbed on my lap and started kneading my thighs with his claws. I gave him a slight shove onto the floor. Not the smartest move, as I have been warned that Wide Load is a vindictive, not-so-little cat. He promptly exacted his revenge by jumping on my printer and puking all over it! I wish the story ended there, but instead of walking away, he starts consuming what he had just purged! So disgusting! And I mean really enjoying it, smacking his lips, chewing extra loud to devour every last bit of flavor from his newly created meal. I had to walk away until he was finished with the "breakfast" and then come back to spray Lysol all over. Then, the Lysol stench gave me a headache and, just like that, my week was off to a fantastic start!

Locked Out!

It is important to understand that the comings and goings of a typical work week here at dysfunctional central, include office personnel inhabiting the office from 5:30 AM to 7:00 PM. Weekends include random visits from those employed for any and all reasons, sometimes even work. It is very seldom that our owner/founder, lets just call him Boss Man, does not show up one of the days, let alone both of them. This past weekend he found himself in a bit of pickle.

After arriving Sunday about mid morning, plugging in his phone and setting his keys on his desk, the Boss Man makes a quick trip back out to his truck to retrieve his i-pod, unfortunately locking the door behind him. Now, this little mishap may detour the common Joe, however engineers are a crafty species. After checking all available doors that may be unlocked, the Boss Man finds a small window about seven feet off the ground that is conveniently unlocked. No problem he thinks, he will just climb up on top of the air conditioning unit, remove the storm window and enter the building by means of squeezing through.

This is the part where we have to stop so I can explain something. For one, the Boss Man is not a wimpy little guy who has made a career of just slipping in through unsuspecting windows. And two, the window trying to be slipped into is not is not your average viewing window, but a window that is just about the same size as the Boss Mans shoulders.

Okay, back to the story. Still unable to position himself in such a manner that he could jump through the window head first, the Boss Man found a chair on the porch and stacked it on top of the air conditioning unit. I know what you are thinking and you are right. With the grace of a bull in a china shop, he managed his way on top of the A/C unit and then up on to the chair. Now, five feet off the ground and teetering on the chair, his chances of entering the seven foot high window were much better.

In one fluid motion (I am picturing a blind man threading a needle) the Boss Man dives through the opening of the window as if diving into a lake. Forcing his arms and shoulders through the opening he stuck himself in the hole of the window, arms and shoulders in, butt and legs out. (This is the part I wish I would have seen) Legs kicking and arms flailing, he managed to turn himself partially onto his side while in the window hole, and finagle one leg through the upper most corner of the window, leaving one leg and his butt for the viewing of the passers. With one leg through, he now had to start rearranging office partitions and what not in an effort to not completely destroy the interior of the building when he landed. Finally, with a last effort and a little help from gravity, he toppled in through the window and was back inside the building. Within seconds of his entrance, another employee (Bucky) calmly unlocked the front door and walked through.

The amazing part of this to me is this. Our office is located on one of the busiest streets in our town. How this fifteen minute ordeal could take place in view of everyone without anyone calling the police or causing a ten car pile up is beyond me.

First Post

Inspired by the works of Slagboy and Rosiethewonderdog, Idaho and I (Rosie) have decided we have too many funny stories about the disfunctional office we work in that NEED to be told. Gone are the days of me making phone call after phone call to update people of the latest developments in the work place. These stories will make you laugh, cry, and maybe even throw up. Sometimes you will think we are lying, other times the truth may hit a little too close to home. So I will leave it to Idaho to get it started.