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Thus my work week begins....
Labyrinth
I take it there were fireworks last night? Just judging from the elaborate steel rat maze I had to navigate just to get out of Granville station. A maze which horked me out on Dunsmir, no less. There wasn't even any cheese at the end either. If you're going to run me through that kind of extensive rodent labyrinth, there should at least be a Skytrain guard with a platter of little cheddar wedges waiting at the end.
Clark Kent
I had to take my glasses off half way to the office just to stop fireworks tourists from asking me directions. Glasses are the difference between "Hey! I bet that guy knows!" and "Nah, he looks like his parents were siblings. Lets ask someone else."
A Cunning Plan
SC: "The parkade said it closed at 11pm, we just got back here before 11pm and our car is locked inside!"
To be precise, it's 11:16pm. So, sadly, you did not arrive in time and thus the nocturnal parkades of Vancouver have claimed yet another victim. You know what that means, right? We legally own your car now. It, like many before it, will be whisked away in the night to an elaborate chop shop operation where it will be dismantled into easily fence-able components and liquidated through out the lower mainland. A sort of Grand Theft Auto: <my company name>, if you will. We are not without mercy, however. If you want, you can leave your name and address with me and I'll make sure to have them mail you back that little green pine tree air freshener from your rear view mirror.
A Third Front
( Always the same bloody line too! )
Me: "and what's the problem?"
SC: "Newfoundland"
Sigh, look, much as I agree with you on this one I already have my hands full bringing poverty, famine and decay to the prairies. I don't have time to be branching out into the Maritimes. You people on the east coast are going to have to patiently wait your turn for gradual social erosion just like everyone else. Wait, heck, this is Newfoundland. You already have a head start on us anyway. If anything I'm playing catch up with the prairies here.
Career Options
Me: "I can only page the person who's carrying the on call pager."
SC: "What do you mean by that?"
Me: "I can only send a message to the person who has the on call pager right now."
SC: "What do you mean by that?"
Me: "…..well…."
Alright, seriously, give me a hint here. What the heck is it you need to grasp the concept? A pamphlet? An hour of self study? A flow chart? Do you want me to act it out for you with Barbies? Because I will. Don't test me, damn you. I will. You can be Ken, since he has little more then a trademark stamp and Made in China where his boyjoy monkey should be. I'll b….wait, I guess that makes me Barbie. God dammit. Oh well, at least I'll have far more lucrative career options then you, like "pet doctor" or "magical fairy princess". You'll be sitting at home, lamenting the loss of your man serpent while I'll be having fantastical pony adventures in a sequined blue prom dress.
Yes, I realize Barbie doesn't really have anything going on downstairs either. But I don't need a vagina. I have a pony.
Where Time and Space have no Meaning
Me: "The travel agents don't arrive until 8am"
SC: "What time is it there now?"
Me: "5am"
SC: "Oh, so you're on the east coast."
…yes, that's right. We're on the east coast. Which is 3 hours behind the east coast. Makes perfect sense. If we were living inside some sort of dimensional rift that was bending the flow of space time. Otherwise, no, that doesn't make a shred of sense. Thus you are stupid and I have concluded ( In my vast, unrivaled wisdom ) that you should be smacked with a lightly buttered blueberry Eggo waffle.
I Has a Flavour
Me: "Did you see it on TV?"
SC: "What?! I can't hear you over the TV."
Ah, irony, thy taste is bittersweet.
Day One Down...
Labyrinth
I take it there were fireworks last night? Just judging from the elaborate steel rat maze I had to navigate just to get out of Granville station. A maze which horked me out on Dunsmir, no less. There wasn't even any cheese at the end either. If you're going to run me through that kind of extensive rodent labyrinth, there should at least be a Skytrain guard with a platter of little cheddar wedges waiting at the end.
Clark Kent
I had to take my glasses off half way to the office just to stop fireworks tourists from asking me directions. Glasses are the difference between "Hey! I bet that guy knows!" and "Nah, he looks like his parents were siblings. Lets ask someone else."
A Cunning Plan
SC: "The parkade said it closed at 11pm, we just got back here before 11pm and our car is locked inside!"
To be precise, it's 11:16pm. So, sadly, you did not arrive in time and thus the nocturnal parkades of Vancouver have claimed yet another victim. You know what that means, right? We legally own your car now. It, like many before it, will be whisked away in the night to an elaborate chop shop operation where it will be dismantled into easily fence-able components and liquidated through out the lower mainland. A sort of Grand Theft Auto: <my company name>, if you will. We are not without mercy, however. If you want, you can leave your name and address with me and I'll make sure to have them mail you back that little green pine tree air freshener from your rear view mirror.
A Third Front
( Always the same bloody line too! )
Me: "and what's the problem?"
SC: "Newfoundland"
Sigh, look, much as I agree with you on this one I already have my hands full bringing poverty, famine and decay to the prairies. I don't have time to be branching out into the Maritimes. You people on the east coast are going to have to patiently wait your turn for gradual social erosion just like everyone else. Wait, heck, this is Newfoundland. You already have a head start on us anyway. If anything I'm playing catch up with the prairies here.
Career Options
Me: "I can only page the person who's carrying the on call pager."
SC: "What do you mean by that?"
Me: "I can only send a message to the person who has the on call pager right now."
SC: "What do you mean by that?"
Me: "…..well…."
Alright, seriously, give me a hint here. What the heck is it you need to grasp the concept? A pamphlet? An hour of self study? A flow chart? Do you want me to act it out for you with Barbies? Because I will. Don't test me, damn you. I will. You can be Ken, since he has little more then a trademark stamp and Made in China where his boyjoy monkey should be. I'll b….wait, I guess that makes me Barbie. God dammit. Oh well, at least I'll have far more lucrative career options then you, like "pet doctor" or "magical fairy princess". You'll be sitting at home, lamenting the loss of your man serpent while I'll be having fantastical pony adventures in a sequined blue prom dress.
Yes, I realize Barbie doesn't really have anything going on downstairs either. But I don't need a vagina. I have a pony.
Where Time and Space have no Meaning
Me: "The travel agents don't arrive until 8am"
SC: "What time is it there now?"
Me: "5am"
SC: "Oh, so you're on the east coast."
…yes, that's right. We're on the east coast. Which is 3 hours behind the east coast. Makes perfect sense. If we were living inside some sort of dimensional rift that was bending the flow of space time. Otherwise, no, that doesn't make a shred of sense. Thus you are stupid and I have concluded ( In my vast, unrivaled wisdom ) that you should be smacked with a lightly buttered blueberry Eggo waffle.
I Has a Flavour
Me: "Did you see it on TV?"
SC: "What?! I can't hear you over the TV."
Ah, irony, thy taste is bittersweet.
Day One Down...
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