I sug-gest you step out
On your porch
Run away my son, see it all
Oh, see the world
Oh, reach the door.
A breath and...
A howling gale blows across the tundra...
Behold.
I gird myself yet again for battle.
I wince as I remember the previous day's carnage. Old friends long gone. Bitter enemies vanquished.
I sip my shitty, Folgers coffee from the industrial-size, steel machine and continue my preparations.
Two Cross pens. An oversize legal pad. A wireless mouse. A flat screen monitor.
And the most deadly of all... a slim, yet powerful, flip phone... *click* Into its holster.
These are my deadly weapons.
The trail of dead stretches out behind me.
Scattered accordion folders. Properly authenticated deeds. A swingline stapler. A lone notary seal.
CNBC hums quietly in the background.
A toner cartridge tumbles across the horizon.
A lone head pops up like a groundhog above the cubicle walls, furtvely glances both ways, then disappears.
Dutifully, nay, triumphantly, I hoist the Spoils of War, electronically tithed, pre-tax, with a dollar-for-dollar employer match up to four percent.
I press the "all office" intercom button, and my voice thunders o'er the battelfield like an ominous storm...
AND YOU WILL KNOW ME BY MY 401(k)!!!
Behold.
I gird myself yet again for battle.
I wince as I remember the previous day's carnage. Old friends long gone. Bitter enemies vanquished.
I sip my shitty, Folgers coffee from the industrial-size, steel machine and continue my preparations.
Two Cross pens. An oversize legal pad. A wireless mouse. A flat screen monitor.
And the most deadly of all... a slim, yet powerful, flip phone... *click* Into its holster.
These are my deadly weapons.
The trail of dead stretches out behind me.
Scattered accordion folders. Properly authenticated deeds. A swingline stapler. A lone notary seal.
CNBC hums quietly in the background.
A toner cartridge tumbles across the horizon.
A lone head pops up like a groundhog above the cubicle walls, furtvely glances both ways, then disappears.
Dutifully, nay, triumphantly, I hoist the Spoils of War, electronically tithed, pre-tax, with a dollar-for-dollar employer match up to four percent.
I press the "all office" intercom button, and my voice thunders o'er the battelfield like an ominous storm...
AND YOU WILL KNOW ME BY MY 401(k)!!!
posted by Joe at
8:26 AM
2 Comments:
Brilliant. Second only to the car wreck/shotgun story.
And thanks for the loaner geeetar. Soon, I'll give up the 80's Poison/Cinderella ballads and be just like Marky Mark once was... STOMPIN' INTO THE NINETIES.
You rock, dude. You were being shy that day, but I could tell you had the skillz to pay the billz.
At least in the context of Stinkfist/Catpiss Junction/the Mudkickers.
In fact, you're hired. You can start tomorrow. Unfortunately, there is no pay, and all the gigs are in living rooms or porches to an audience of zero...
But you're hired.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home