Predator Press
Monday
Sunday
The Return of Mister Insanity
Predator Press
[Mr. I]
"Our intelligence suggests that LOBO defected to the Saudi," explains Sapphire.
"Hmm," I says ponderously. "You are aware that this blog has killed me off three or four times. Are you going to offer the readers any explanation?"
Sapphire stares.
"Well okay then," I says. "Has anyone thought of going on a manhunt to get LOBO back?"
Sapphire stares.
More.
"Well," says Barbarossa finally. "I don't think we want the parade called off."
FUCK Monday
[LOBO]
The problem with working on Predator Press is that it has taken all the spice out of calling off of work ... thus, basking in my usual slothful indolence has lost a certain degree of debauched and ruthless zeal.
Still, I can offer up endless lame excuses all day long to you, o loyal reader.
Because I care.
So here goes:
"Dear Boss,
The reason I don't get around to blogging very often is that I occasionally moonlight as a double-secret agent. Last week I was in LOBOnia investigating MINDERBINDER, INC for the United States Government. (LOBOnia is a country a little south of Nigeria and a little north of, uh, Antarctica.) It was there that I was taken by surprise by a well-armed horde of time-traveling Space Mongols. I was subsequently held in a concentration camp for forty-four years, escaping with only the cunning use of my hair gel and a twig.
I’m now blogging via satellite, riding on the back of an elephant through Deepest Darkest Africa in search of the US Embassy. But satellites are really heavy, and my elephant is getting tired and cranky so I have to keep this short.
I have to warn the world of the coming Space Mongol invasion which would totally happen if you fired me. I also think I should not do anything resembling work tomorrow either … you know … in case anything weird happens. I need to conserve my energy.
The President, Myself, and the rest of the Free World all thank you for your cooperation and understanding in this matter, and I will blog some more as soon as I find a new elephant."
Ahhhh ... that's better.
Foreign Policy
[LOBO]
When Terri pointed out the bizarre story that Saudi Arabia had deported three men for being "too irresistible to women" [linked here], the entire tiny yet robust nation of LOBOnia immediately seceded from the United States.
LOBOnia, as you know, is the invisible ten foot mobile sphere that surrounds me at all times.
-I figured getting kicked out of Saudi Arabia could be a real career boost.
Still, despite having cast off the shackles of American oppression, I fidget nervously.
"Has Saudi Arabia called about my deportation yet?"
Terri rolls her eyes.
"No," she sighs.
"Well I can't wait to get the back into the shackles of American oppression forever," I complain. "I called the Saudi embassy, but the guy that answers the phone only speaks gibberish and eventually hangs up on me. What kind of lunatic country does that?"
"It sounds like you will fit right in," she replies.
-Uh oh.
Saturday
Taste
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"... and that is why," I conclude, "Every time you blew on a rose petal, a dust of diamonds would float off."
"Wow, man," Barbarossa breathes.
"So okay, your turn. If you could bang a celebrity, who would you fuck?"
"Sonia Sotomayor," he replies. "She is sooooo hot."
"Who?"
"The Supreme Court Justice. I would bend her over the waffles, and smack that hot booty ... "
-I will reply as soon as I can stop blinking.
Downsizing
Predator Press
[LOBO]
“Are you ready to give your presentation?” asks my boss.
I have no idea how to work the PowerPoint thingy.
“My presentation,” I reply coolly.
He leans on my file cabinet. “The one I assigned you last Tuesday. On how the company is moving toward full ISO compliance.”
I also haven't the slightest clue what the ‘International Organization for Standardization' or whatever is or does.
“Sure I am,” I says.
“Care to give me some highlights?”
“Well," I says, "I figure we have to retool the whole company for it.”
“Really? Can you give me an example?”
Standing and looking around I says, “How many do you need?”
"How about just one?"
"For starters," I reply, "take for instance ... these … cubicles.”
“What about the cubicles?”
“Why hire average and large-sized people? We could fit four times as many people in here if we started hiring midgets.”
I see the temple on the left side of his head swell.
“And,” I continue, “we could stack the cubicles three-high, thusly tripling that number.”
-The right side temple pops forth, and I can clearly see the heartbeat surging through it.
“The Fire Marshall,” he replies, (thup-thup, thup-thup) “would never allow us to stack midgets in cubicles due to the lack of access to the fire escapes.”
“That’s what the tornado slides are for.”
[LOBO]“Are you ready to give your presentation?” asks my boss.
I have no idea how to work the PowerPoint thingy.
“My presentation,” I reply coolly.
He leans on my file cabinet. “The one I assigned you last Tuesday. On how the company is moving toward full ISO compliance.”
I also haven't the slightest clue what the ‘International Organization for Standardization' or whatever is or does.
“Sure I am,” I says.
“Care to give me some highlights?”
“Well," I says, "I figure we have to retool the whole company for it.”
“Really? Can you give me an example?”
Standing and looking around I says, “How many do you need?”
"How about just one?"
"For starters," I reply, "take for instance ... these … cubicles.”
“What about the cubicles?”
“Why hire average and large-sized people? We could fit four times as many people in here if we started hiring midgets.”
I see the temple on the left side of his head swell.
“And,” I continue, “we could stack the cubicles three-high, thusly tripling that number.”
-The right side temple pops forth, and I can clearly see the heartbeat surging through it.
“The Fire Marshall,” he replies, (thup-thup, thup-thup) “would never allow us to stack midgets in cubicles due to the lack of access to the fire escapes.”
“That’s what the tornado slides are for.”
Thursday
Bob White
Predator Press
@SnarquisdeSade
The murmuring stops suddenly as I enter the cafeteria.
Sapphire, clearly distressed, stands as she notices my entrance. "I'm sorry I couldn't get a conference room Mister -"
"And I'm sorry to have called this on such short notice," I says reassuringly. "This will do just fine. I didn't hire you because I thought you could put together last-minute meetings. I hired you because your resume says you can read Braille with your nipples. You never know when that might come in handy."
"Thank you," she replies.
Scanning the group of motley losers assembled, I watch them squirm under my gaze for a moment.
"Ladies and gentlemen and Bob," I says finally, "I have uncovered a deadly threat -one that could destroy the company with inefficiency, property damage, and injury lawsuits."
Barbarossa raises his hand. "Is it me?"
"Not this time," I reply. "Now let's imagine we have an inept and dangerous driver. I'll make up a name and spell it backwards for this hypothetical situation. Eh, Bob. Yes. Bob-"
Bob White, coincidentally an inept and dangerous driver that could destroy the company with inefficiency, property damage, and injury lawsuits, snaps his pencil.
"Fuck you," he replies.
"So this guy, uh, Bob," I point the PowerPoint remote at the microwave. "Has been at this for a long time as you can see ... "
"You can't do a PowerPoint presentation on a microwave, dumbass," Bob White guffaws.
Feigning confusion, I open the microwave -revealing dozens and dozens of Dunkin Donuts.
Barbarossa stands.
"Death to Bob!"
Wednesday
Internet Swag
Predator Press
Her Anxiety
Her Anxiety
William Butler Yeats
Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing. Prove that I lie. Such body lovers have, Such exacting breath, That they touch or sigh. Every touch they give, Love is nearer death. Prove that I lie.
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