I Got A Haircut

Yes, I cut my hair myself yesterday, and I buzzed it all off. I’ve received lots of compliments, but am willing to receive more. I was even told that I look like Brad Pitt today.

Yes, I am gorgious, beautiful, and should be complimented based on my looks as often as possible.

As I requested today is the last day of this assignment that has not been good. I’ll start on Monday at a new one in the department that I used to work full time in. I am a temp in this current position. I haven’t done any work during the last three days, and prior to that I did things that the bopping chicken which Homer Simpson had set up to keep hitting Y.

I had sought out to leave early today. My timesheet is signed off and it read till 5pm, I would have put 330pm, but my manager would like me to stay until 5pm. What could possibly possess her to want me here longer?

Vivian = Manager

1. Vivian wants see the look of disgust on my face from being here at least five more times today?
2. Vivian would like to keep yelling at people over the phone to the point that I can hear her conversations that will eventually make my ears will bleed?
3. Vivian is mean?
4. Vivian wants to get nekked and invite me into her office for drinks?
5. Vivian still thinks that a temp needs to complete an exit interview, despite that the BISO and HR say no?
6. Vivian wants more people to stop by my desk and talk trash about her to me?
7. Vivian thinks she is saving the company money by having me get paid to write this blog?
8. Vivian wants to see my bubble butt walk out of her office one last time?
9. Vivian is secretly counting how many cups of water I drink and how many times I go pee?
10. Her constant yelling is really her way of saying thank you?
11. She’s hoping that I will fart in her presence some more?
12. Vivian is planning to have a Roast in my honor at 4:30pm?
13. She is a mean person?
14. She likes knowing that someone is being paid good money, reporting to her, and doing nothing?
15. She needs to put make up on before giving me a goodbye kiss?
16. Vivian would like to sound extra spider vagina voiced over the next hour?
17. She is a megalomaniac?
18. Maybe she heard that I am an assman?
19. Vivian is waiting to have security come up and escort me out?
20. She wants to keep tempting me to send out an email to all 300,000 plus employees, about how awful she is?
21. She wants me to hear how she wants to go home yet again today?
22. She wants to watch me do nothing when she asks me to do actual work?
23. Vivian plans on opening her door and pulling a bloody tampon from her crotch, that she’s been using since 1979 when the NY Times described her as not only beautiful, but smart too, and then throwing in my general direction.
24. She wants to see if I can vomit at the mere sight of her?
25. She wants to try and set me up with one of the many gay men that work in my office?
26. Vivian wants me to spot her in the gym for an hour?
27. Vivian is planning on actually addressing employees with respect?
28. She wants to see if she can waste another 8 grand on cubicle reconfigurations that don’t make more room?
29. She wants me to finally acknowledge the return of someone who has been on vacation for the last two weeks?
30. She is using MS Paint to draw me nude?
31. She is waiting for a brick to finish curing so that she can hit me over the side of the head with it?
32. She wants me to see another email with both the names Bertram and Chalmers Cc’d in it?
33. Vivian thinks that having me stay until 5pm is an appropriate belated birthday gift?
34. She is awaiting the moth s to hatch inside her vagina, spread her legs, her them eat my clothes off my back before I go?
35. Vivian likes when I ignore the new eating disorder girl 24/7?
36. Vivian needs to keep thinking she is important?
37. She wants to see how many blogs I can publish in one day?
38. She thinks that she is my friend?
39. Vivian thinks that she s punishing me by keeping me hear only to write a blog of how awful she is, yet again?
40. Vivian needs me to sign off on her much-needed box FedEx package of KY Warming liquid?
41. She wants to give me time to swap around the letters of my QWERTY keyboard?
42. She thinks that I will just sit here and twirl my thumbs?
43. She wants to beat me up on Park Ave. in front of all the rush hour commuters?
44. Vivian wants to flick some of her dandruff on me?
45. She wants to complain more about someone else taking credit for the ATM project?
46. She wants to allow me some more time to play the Black Crowes inside my head, on repeat, without interruption?
47. She thinks 17 more farts from my butt will officially break in this new chair for her old saggy butt?
48. Vivian is preparing to perform a staged fall as she walks by my cube to put a smile on my face?
49. She wants me to watch the dust gather on the bin labeled “Items to be shredded”?
50. She thinks Gawker will have some good updates hat I shouldn’t wait to read until I got home?
51. She plans on making over the top hand movements, unlock my bottom desk drawer, and pull the Professor from Gilligan’s Island out?
52. Vivian is needs my karma while planning on getting Ryan Seacrest to out himself?
53. She wants to hear me play Larry King farting yet again in my cube?
54. She thinks if I stay too long, that I will forget to fax in my timesheet?Vivian thinks that I can’t continue writing the nasty truth about her next week?

Strollercize

I was out to lunch thinking that the women who are wearing thongs and g-strings in this summer heat should be told that they should wear full butt pantaloon undies. You are better off having panty lines showing than having the much seen around Midtown butt sweat lines.

As that thought was in my mind I hurried up to walk in front of butt sweat lines woman, only to find myself walking behind to women pushing strollers and one with way too much self promotion on her body for Strollercize. The website has told me the same thing that anyone that has already seen someone strollercizing could tell you; which is that post prego women pay money to join to “program” to walk their baby in a stroller at a leisurely pace. These strolling mothers walked way too slow for 56th between Lex & 3rd. It’s strolling yes, but push that stroller at a faster pace. Think walkfastersize. If you want to push your baby in a stroller, just wear regular clothing instead of the non-flattering spandex used when working out. You aren’t breaking a sweat walking at a snails pace, even if you are pushing a 15lb baby in a stroller, you know why? Cause it’s on wheels. The wheels are sweating more than you three and your “Ijusthadastroke” walk. Then to top it off, some weirdo who looks like she is on her lunch break, and who is wearing spandex in the proper context cause she’s working out comes up and passes both myself and the three strollercize ladies. The actual workout lady is doing some type of windsprints. It’s only weird cause this is on 56th between Lex & 3rd. The billboarded strollercize woman that was the trainer turns to her two clients, and whispers a joke about the woman doing windsprints. Do you strollercize people think you are actually better than someone else? Take my advice, please, just get the Tony Little Abs workout dvd. It will flatten your tummy in no time, and then actually run to the point where you break a sweat. That would actually help you lose the baby fat. Or, keep the baby fat. It can be becoming as well.

The Shoot

Yesterday evening after I got out of work I went to the Electra Elf shoot. It was a Midtown location shoot. I rang the buzzer and found it odd that there was only one buzzer at the door when there are half dozen or so floors to the building. The buzzer had a video camera, and an intercom. The intercom had a mans muffled voice and I thought they were going to buzz me in, I waiting 30 seconds for a buzz that did not take place. I ring the bell again, and said, “Sorry I couldn’t hear you before. Are you buzzing me in or coming down to let me in?” This time the voice of a young woman answered, she said, “I’ll be down to pick you up”. A minute goes by and I saw a cute young woman coming to the glass door with piercings in her lips, and in her eyebrow, and with some bright red hair. I assume that she is the receptionist of a production company. We step into a very tiny elevator that was manually operated. I enjoy riding in those kinds of elevators, you get to see the inside of the building, and get to try and stop the elevator at the right part in the floor. Lame game I know, but it’s more exciting than just hitting the number 7 button. I step out of the elevator, and the young woman tells me to make a right and go down the hall to where the shoot is. I thank her and go on down the hall.

The hall was clean, and had a bunch of doors running along it. I looked into the first open door and saw a couple of large day beds, I saw the Mens & Womens room, and a gated off door where filming was taking place. There was also a doorway with a leather curtain blocking the view of the room inside; I thought it was a way into the big room where the filming was happening. I immediately see that it is a storage area, and locker room. In between takes I moved passed the gated off door and into a room with five or so big U shaped couches. I also looked back down the hall and saw other cute young women milling about. Even though I’ve never been inside one, my first thought was that I was inside a rub and tug massage parlor. It had the look of what I imagined one to be. I saw my buddy Rusty Nail, and went over to say hello in between takes. I said, “Hey, what kind of whore house are we in right now?” His response, “Oh, it’s a dominatrix dungeon.” I smiled, knowing that it’s a Thursday night, just after 5pm, and people are going to be coming over to this place to do their thing.

The shoot went well, but I was enjoying the atmosphere more. I heard LOUD spankings numerous times and while setting up lights for a take, there was a man screaming, “It’s my birthday!” repeatedly while being spanked. There were also the DOM girls wandering around. They went into the locker room, and had to pass through the room we were shooting in a couple of times. If I were to pass these women on the street I wouldn’t dare think that they worked in a dungeon, they looked like college students, and I even met the man who carried himself to be the owner, or at least the guy in charge of the dungeon. He looked like an Uncle John from Anytown, USA. It was endearing to know that my next door neighbor could do this for a living.

At one point, a cast member was curious on the way back from the bathroom. She took a peek into the locker room, and came back confused. She saw something that looked like a finger attachment butt plug. Huh? I’ve been at least halfway around the block with sex toys, but hadn’t ever thought of this one.

At the end of the shoot I wanted to thank the people that worked there, I only took a step past the staircase and stopped. I saw three young women standing in the doorway of what I believed to be a dungeon room, saw something was taking place in that room, and thought I shouldn’t interrupt. I ran down the wooden staircase, afraid that it would fall apart from my 145lbs of bodyweight, got outside and called “I like cheese” to laugh at the evenings events.

P.S. The northwest corner of 57th and 5th smelled extra horse shitty this morning. Just think of the joys to come with a week full of 90 plus degree weather on the way.

The Temp Job

I had applied late for the fall semester, and doubted that any of my 38 Canadian college credits would be transferable, and didn’t want to have to deal with a full time job that would look bad on me if I walked away after less than six months. After not wanting to work, and being financially able to do so for roughly six months, I had decided that I would temp for a while due to my impending start of college. I had called the temp agency that my childhood friend had worked at that initially got me a couple of temp jobs that led to a full time boring corporate job. While my childhood friend was no longer working at the agency, they were happy to try and find me some type of temporary position.

I had a brief return interview, which was a formality of ensuring that I didn’t have a new tattoo on my face, and to fill out the tax paperwork. I had informed them that I would be returning to college, but was awaiting final word of when and where I would go to school. Not more than 20 minutes after leaving the agency office I received a phone call saying that they had a position for me. It was a one week assignment as a receptionist at some trading floor. I couldn’t bring myself to allow my mind brain be placed into such an environment let alone on the $$$ per hour they offered, so I passed on it. A couple of days later there was a position that needed to be filled, and my resume was picked from the pile that the hiring manager had received. They wanted me to work for them. Based only off of the resume that I submitted to the agency, but they actually wanted to interview me as well. Huh? I’m a temp and you want to interview me? You could get a new temp every day of the week until you find one that you like. After interviewing with four people over the course of two occasions I was hired based on what I looked like. Three of the four interviewers were flaming gay men, the last was a single workaholic woman in her 50s, who would be my manager. Since my day-to-day manager has a high profile position in the company, she apparently needed a good looking person working for her. She even said so in the interview, and based on looks alone; with a fresh haircut and in my suits I can kick most other people in their butts in a looks competition. I was hired, and with a hefty pay raise from my last job, which was full time. Woo-hoo.

If you’ve read my previous blog posts, you’ll know that this isn’t a good job for me. For those who haven’t, I’ll sum it up. I work for an evil woman, who doesn’t seem to treat people with respect during a regular day in the office. She snaps at everyone with a “GO FIND”, or “GO DO”, she works 15 hours a day, takes no vacations, has no family, she also lacks the understanding that people have plenty of other things they would rather do than work 15 hours a day with a mean person, and I think she might also be suffering from horrible case of nocockitus. So, I am leaving this temp position. I had Jury Duty on Tuesday, and returned to work yesterday.

Upon my return, my manager overly pleasant to me, she was calm in her voice, and engaging in an actual conversation, instead of her usual spider crotched vagina voice. She was congratulating me on going back to college, asked what I’d be studying, what my hours of classes were, and even offered to let me work for her on a part time basis. I can be quite mean at times, but I couldn’t be mean in this instance, so I just said, “I will give it some serious thought and get back to you”. Instead of me saying something along the lines of “hmpph, yeah right. I’m not leaving due to college, I’m leaving cause you are a nasty and evil person to work with, I hope you get struck by lightening”. I couldn’t have said that, that would have been mean. I have grown too much over the past five years to wish something really bad on someone again. Even if she was a genuinely good person, I wouldn’t be able to stay. She and whoever reports to her are moving to another building site in a few weeks. The building is a certain one that was all over the news about being a terrorist target, and has a big column instead of a bottom half of the building. It has a name, but can’t say. Anyways, I wouldn’t let myself work every day in building that could completely fall over so easily.

My agency, had something that might be good for me, they were looking into it more, while they did that. I looked out to some old pals, swallowed some pride and told them of what was going on, and if they needed any help. Half an hour later, I have a job that I can start on Monday. Can work with people that I’ve already worked with, who get along well with others, and who are all good people for the most part.

Oh yeah! I look good!