Saturday, September 21, 2024

What Makes A Boss A Boss? Is It Our Loss?

 

I was at work the other day when I told my cube mate, “Obscenities mean less today you know.

Cause we hear them now, more than long years ago.  That creepie presidential candidate says them more.”

               And he answered me, “Blought Blought tRump on his Pills.”

               That was when the boss told us, “Get back to work.  You are both a week behind.”

I said, “I don’t have a weak behind!”

The guy I share the cube with pointed to the boss and said, “Smell that?!!”

The boss then angered, “Are you saying that I’m a Big Behind?”

Then Fred, from my cube, said, “Mr.  You sure stunk the air when you bent over again.”

Ed, our boss, then said to both of us, “We’ve had this order for two weeks now.  It hasn’t gone out yet.  I don’t know what you two are doing, but you’re not doing none of this. Now, Can You Do It?  Or  are  you going to keep Canoeing through it?”

I said, “Is that ‘this order’ or have we had a ‘disorder’?  From where I’m at, I sure need  A Can of that Dry Ginger Ail.”

Fred went on, “Can?  Can!   Can Can!!!  You may think you Can  order us to start Star Trekin Across the Universe.”

And he said, “As usual you are and don’t just Start Drinkin Across this order first.”

I asked, “So you are going to keep saying your Star Tricks?”

Boss Ed said, “Stop making this Star Wars!”

To which I asked, “As usual, where’s my Mars Warts?”

Fred then continued, “As we are  unusual, we are ordered to Keep Shrinkin Because of his Ugly Verses. If you are so omnivorous then just Get On That Omni Bus! ”

Ed replied, “I don’t hate, butt you may have ate some Gassy Things, that’s why you stink, it’s not I who always smells.”

I began thinking that I must be in an old Three Stooges Movie. There’s a Duck Duck Here and a Duck Duck there.  Here adduct.  There abduct.  But at every job interview I Never Hear  The Bucks.

And now I am, Screaming in a littered wander land.  I just hope that after a scream in the night.  It will just be a blight.  We’ll think we’re a celestial mechanic.  And all around me it is See Star.  Sea Spar. Hiss There.   C-Stir   I wish you had a Sister.

So, to work, I wish we just had to Press Switch to open.  Wait, is that press which to open?

I just Impress the witch too often.

 

               And as Fred tried to look like he’s working, he goes:

 

Push me

Pull you

Rush me

Pollute

This must be my Mouth Rush More!

 

               Which causes Ed to reply:

 

                              Ollie

Ollie

Oxen Free

Freak!

Free?

Free!

 

               And I told him:

 

Nope!

Those oxen are going to cause stews

Don’t you see?  We are the Stew Wart!

 

               While Fred agreed:

 

                              Turn on your Zarkoff and

                              Bite, Bite, Bite

                              Fright, Fright, Fright

                              Might, Might, Might

                              Spite, Spite, Spite!

 

               Which caused Ed to ask, “Is this your Pride and Pred Judges?   Or more of your Briber and Pre Judas?”

               I answered Ed, “Is it Cause your bothers make you fat?”

               Then, Olga, at the next desk, shouted, “Don’t step on me!  And Don’t thread on me!  Really, really, Don’t threaten me!”

               Fred looked at her and stated, “Tutor Common. Or, Tooth and Company.  I am not a Macho Macho.  You just treat me like A Gyro Tacho.”

               Olga said, “It must be launch time. Again,  you are lunching your Moo Shoo Burrito.”

               That just makes me feel sorry for myself.  But, if I was really felt, and I mean, if I really was made of felt, then I would feel what some, a few, portions, not just a potion, or even a position, that is my poison, of what other people are going through.  And, if that is the case, they are not really ‘other’ people.  And definitely, and it should be not defiantly, ‘Odder’ people.  Not them, or otter people, but they sure are odor people.

               Sure, we are not all totally the same.  But many parts of us are very similar.  And I am not a Semi Liar.  Truck.  Truck.  Truth!

               I am not you.  You are not me.  But even with those parts that are not the same, we are not nutty. You had a mother.  I had a mother.  You had a job.  I had a job.  You are here for more.  I wish I was not not any more. And I could, should, and would wish you are, were, and always will be not not any more. (Think about what ‘not not anymore’ means!)

               You are not a bird.  You are not a plane. You sure are not Superman.  But I also am not so weird.  I am not plain.  I am not played.  Although I might be playing.  Many times, I am not paid.  And to my mind, I am not insane.  And, at about 5:30 pm, I am Supper Man.

               You have your own source of information.  My own youth is no longer in formation.  I am owed.  My car got towed.  I am big toed.  And a lot of people call me a Toad.  That is not just because of my warts.  Many times, there is no just cause to their snorts.  Sports.  Shouts.  Snouts.  I may be not an import, but I am gladly not an ex president.

               Coffee.  Coffee.  You are one.  That caffeine makes me feel like I am fun.  When I think about it, I don’t have a Nun.  From that cat’s sole, lick, church, I went on the run.  Going to the confusional each week.  Going to brag to the priest about what I did that God told us not to do.  If I knew then what I “NO” now, I wooden be in this harpsicord. 

               I am not smart.  I just get stewed.  And that is not a Stew Ant.  If everyone and everything got stewed, where’s the Ant in That?  And you know not to ask me for my Art.  I may articulate, but I am not the Art of your Faith.

              

               Ant Hill Mantel

               A Farm Yard sure has Man Tills

               On that Sill

               Going Away

               I will come to Last

               Another Day

               And I sure Hope that is

               Not the Last Day

               For You Or For Me.

 

               So, I just want to say, “Come on and Kneel you Silly Killies!”

 

Go sell it on Smokey Mountain

Send their races to the Hills from anywhere

Go sell what MAGA mouths off

The guy who claims he’s our Christ has us pay for his porn

 

But we’ve been Paying for his bills and every swear

 

Are they Cowboys?  Let’s finally admit there were a lot of people or races different from you and I in those Saddles again.  That must have been back when Indians really were our friends.  I wish we would have sometime treated them as friends.  

 

Me Me Me Me Mine

I know I can their faces

If they are foes of mine

Their dog collars are so gross

They all belong to me

 

I know

 

With tRump, it is later than he thinks

Butt he never thinks

And what he claims he has done

Is always late

Brain they’re Dumb Fat





                                                        If you have fun reading this                                                                                                                          I hope you have fun                                                                                                                                        Reading THESE

 

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