Foreign Policy

Predator Press

[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.

"The Bible" for iPod Users:

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Taste

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[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.

Internet Swag

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To Terri: I Love You. There, I Said it. Now About that Thing with the 'Lil Bo Peep' Outfit .. :)~

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[*smooch*]

Downsizing

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[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.”

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!"