I've passed this billboard too many times without mentioning it here. My normal commute has a sign that bothers my father and me every time we pass it on the way home. It's a slogan for a local shoe store:
It's an: anomaly!
I'm not sure I want to get my shoes at a place that could be seen as a malformation. I'm also not sure what possessed them to give their slogan that colon.
So.. brother of a friend of mine isn't stupid at all. But one day he was convinced of this:
Brother: Hah, funny.. Chickens aren't birds..
Friend: What? Yes they are
Brother: No, they are a domestic animal
No matter what she said he didn't believe her until she said this:
Friend: Sooo.. cows aren't.. cows, 'cause they're a domestic animal?
Brother: Huh.. interesting point...
My boss is generally ok, but doesn't handle stress too well, which is what I am blaming the following encounter on:
Tuesday morning, I get onto the tube and it grinds to a halt. So there I am, stuck 40m below ground and I'm going to be late for work.
This is where the first mini-mock comes in, my initial reaction was my usual course of action when late, "I'll call work and let them know I'm stuck," which was closely followed by the realisation that I am indeed, stupid, underground, and have no cell signal. Incommunicado.
I finally got into work after an hour of being stuck, and the office staff, including the boss listens as I tell them of my Journey of Doom, all of them reacting appropriately and cursing TfL. Then the boss pipes up:
"You know, Alien, next time you're going to be late can you call us and let us know, please."
Office in general goes O_o
"Um, ok," I reply, "Except I was stuck underground at the time."
"Yes sure," he says, "But when you are in that situation again, can you please call us. It's courtesy."
After that he left the office before any more could be said, but we were quietly mocking him for the rest of the day.
My little sister, who we believe may have a different father for this very reason, asked me to put highlights in her hair about 4 years ago.
She was being very bossy, "put this highlight here, this one there" until finally I told her to shut up or do it her herself.
She looked at me with her big brown puppy dog eyes and whined "But you're making me look like a cheeto!"
"A cheeto, Maggie?"
"You know, that cat with spots, you idiot!"
So... two of my classmates had an interesting adventure this week. We'll call them doornail and dirt - two things that are surely smarter than either of them.
Doornail has no driver liscence.
So, Dirt takes Doornail to a parkinglot where they proceed to drive around until Doornail can follow commands fairly quickly and "has the hang of" this driving thing.
They then go out on the road where Doornail promptly drives off the road into the ditch.
This might be an appropriate place in the story to mention: Doornail is completely BLIND!
Dear driver in front of me,
I realize you have high standards, so much so that you decided to advertise this fact on your license plates. It's just unfortunate that you thought the best way to convey this information was:
A while ago I bought some peanut cookies with peanuts in AND on top of them.
And on the cookie package I found: "Caution! Cookies can contain nuts."
At my school, they run announcements on the speakers at the beginning of second period. They also have a bulletin in every classroom, and after the announcements, the teachers usually read out the bulletin. Instead, my Calculus teacher hands the bulletin down the first row and just lets people pass it throughout the classroom. When I got the bulletin today, I saw this announcement:
"TEACHERS: If there is an 'Out of Order' sign on the photocopier, do not remove it and attempt to use the copier anyway. If that sign is there, then there is something wrong with the machine. It will not work if you try to use it."
You'd think teachers would know better than that. I mean, who knew that "Out of Order" actually meant that the machine is... ~gasp~ out of order?
I was standing in the Kitchen in front of the oven, glaring at a saucepan of was-boiling-now-cold water demanding to know why it wasn't getting hotter; the hob was switched on to 6, so why was it not heating up?
Cue the obligatory face-palm as I realised that I'd forgotten to switch the actual oven on...
Overheard today, from our newest Commercial employee.
Backstory: Yes, she's still in training, so one of the experienced CSRs was explaining how to calculate the insurance premium for a certain kind of truck, and to add percentages for equipment that wasn't stock, etc.
So, the customer wanted to add a tool rack to the truck. The trainer told our new star to add the current rate, "then add ten percent," to which she replied:
"So, I multiply by ten?"
...yeah. That'll thrill the client. Such a little difference between 3k and 30k.
I was at the hospital doing a drug test for my new job, and my father was sitting in the waiting room, well, waiting for me, when he saw this occur. There was another girl there getting tested, and she had to fill out some forms. It's taking her ten minutes, when she finally calls across the room to her mom to ask "What's the number for May?" Her mom holds up five fingers.
And this is someone I might have to work with. Good god.
The previous microwave stories reminded me of this bit about my former roommate and sorority sister, who I'll call "Monica."
I had sprained my ankle badly and was pretty much down for the count, high on painkillers and confined to a bed or chair, due to my questionable crutch skills. She and I were home on a Friday night. She was a nice girl and had offered to make us a snack of Stove Top stuffing, which we bought by the case weekly.
I heard her in the kitchen, making cooking noises. "Can I use these measuring cups?" she asked. I hollered in the affirmative. When I happened to be getting up to hobble my lame ass to the bathroom, I passed the kitchen, only to see Monica *pushing a stick of butter into a measuring cup.* I advised her about the handy-dandy markings on the butter wrapper and resumed my seated position.
"Can I use this pot?" she asked. I again hollered in the affirmative. I heard the microwave start and heard Monica start cleaning up. Then, I heard Monica shriek in a bloodcurdling sort of way. So I hopped into the kitchen to see her, hands pressed to cheeks Macaulay-Culkin-in-Home-Alone-style, transfixed by the microwave, in which a BALL OF FIRE IS ROTATING SLOWLY ON THE TURNTABLE!!!!
Monica had put a metal pot in the microwave. It had sparked and caught the wooden handle of the pot on fire. The inside of the microwave was *black.* After smothering the fire with a wet dishcloth, I gave Monica a small science lesson about why we do not put metal in the microwave. I also asked, just out of curiosity, whether she had had a cook in her house growing up. Monica's answer? "Well, we called her the housekeeper..."
I got a second letter from the American Association of Retired Persons today (first one, saying the same thing, was a month ago).
They informed me that I still have not signed up for AARP membership benefits, even though I am "fully eligible", in their words.
I'm 23 years old...