ALERT: Bad Decision Epidemic in Berlin

It's happening again...Writers' block or should we call it bloggers block? Ewww...that's gross. So I'm thinking what can I write about? Do I tell everyone about how tonight I thought my Grandma tried to kiss me? Riveting, I know, but you had to be there. So I took a moment to peruse the "Odd News" section on Yahoo in hopes that it would give me some inspiration. Boy, they sure aren't kidding when they say it's "odd." Ooooohhh an abstract of odd news, how clever. So here are some stories that caught my eye:

LILLINGTON, N.C. - A woman attacked a man in his genitals during a Christmas party, injuring him badly enough that he needed 50 stitches

My important commentary: First of all...sounds like the WORST party EVER! It also notes that this party was at the man's girlfriend's house. Soooo who is this penis-knapping woman? Sounds like, YET ANOTHER, affair gone awry. And what's up with the awkward sentence...attacked a man in his genitals? Huh? Did she crawl in there and start tearing shi% up? I think attacked a man's genitals would have sufficed. Moral: don't invite the "other woman" to the Christmas Party...geeze!

BERLIN (Reuters Life!) - Berlin police said on Wednesday they had rescued a motorist who ended up wedged upside down in a drain after trying to retrieve car keys he had dropped.

My important commentary: For the love of God...call a locksmith or something. He must have been kinda embarrassed. Oh! And I love the word motorist which makes anyone who drives a car sound like they have a really fancy skill set.

BERLIN (Reuters) - German police arrested a man for drunk driving after he mistook a police spot check for a breakdown and stopped to help.

My important commentary: Honestly...that rocks!

BERLIN (Reuters) - A thirsty German sold his 6-year-old step-daughter's pet beagle to the owner of a bar to pay for beer, the Bild newspaper reported Friday.

My important commentary: Uh-oh, can we say "BAD DAD ALERT," and for beer, no less...SHAME! Can some celebrity go adopt this man's six year old daughter and get her another damn dog?

One final thought...three out of four of these stories came out of Berlin. I'm seeing a pattern here. If you have any plans to travel to Berlin soon I would advise against it, it seems like their problem solving skills are lacking...Certainly not in originality though. Of course the really
fuc%ed up one came out of good ole' North Carolina.

Happy New Years! What's up with Auld Lang Syne? Does anyone really know the words?

Stop the Confusion! Office Raider vs. Office Knight

It has been brought to our attention at Officetan that many readers are having trouble remembering the difference between Office Raider and Office Knight...some even think we're the same person. I will review the similarities as well as the difference and we apologize for any confusion this has caused.

Some things Office Raider and Office Knight have in common:

• Same Parents
• Same Residence
• Same Siblings
• Same love for sleep
• Same Marine Corps training
• Same property insurance
• Same struggles with clutter
• Same hair dresser
• Same weakness for really expensive jeans

Here are some KEY differences:

• Office Knight works in finance and has an office
• Office Raider (me) works in "healthcare" and does NOT have an office...hence raiding others
• Office Knight was born in the 70's
• Office Raider was born in the 80's. How come everything 80's sounds embarrassing?
• Office Knight cooks delicious balanced meals whose aromas make our neighbors jealous
• Office Raider lives off of yogurt, eggs, and oatmeal...but can cook if necessary
• Office Knight can hold her own in a discussion about world politics
• Office Raider is a little behind on world politics
• Office Knight uses friendster as her primary online social network
• Office Raider uses myspace as her primary online social network...and promotes this blog heavily on her profile

Alright, you get the idea. As for Owfice Burn...she has never had any trouble separating herself from the pack with that beautiful accent that she writes in...sorry Anthony.

"That's Quite a Dream there, Joe"

Okay...I'm really not looking to lose friends or ignite a fiery religious debate BUT I do have to direct some attention to a particular passage in the bible regarding the birth of Jesus. Since it's Christmas, I thought this might be a nice time to do so...please review.

The Birth of Jesus Christ
This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.
But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus,[c] because he will save his people from their sins. "
(From BibleGateway.com Mathew 1)

I'm sorry...Let me see if I understand this...Mary was married to Joseph and shows up pregnant and Joseph is totally pissed because he knows it's not his. So he's all ready to get a divorce and one night while Joseph slept quietly (probably in some ratty barn in a sketchy night gown) he has a dream and in this dream he's told by some Lord secretary or "Angel of the Lord" not to worry about his "virgin" wife being knocked up because the baby was given to her from the Holy Spirit sans hanky panky. Umm...Since when are dreams the source of explanation and authority? Anyone else think either Joseph was exercising some serious wishful thinking or perhaps a rich dad dreamed up this idea to avoid his daughter getting a bad name...Which, by the way, would be totally lame, shi% happens, people get pregnant, doesn't mean they're naughty or slutty. I'm not saying it's not true...All I'm saying is that it sounds really made up.

'Tis the Season

'Tis the season! 'Tis the season to find oneself in overcrowded retail environments filled with aggressive patrons hustling around for the "perfect" (aka cheap but looks expensive) gift for their loved ones, not-so-loved ones, co-workers, bosses, neighbors and last-minute-reciprocal gifts from those random, unexpected acquaintances. 'Tis the season to receive your 800th 4-oz bottle of Bath and Body Works shower gel in a fruit scented variety that doesn't truly exist in nature. 'Tis the season to thank the deity of your choice for overdraft protection. And finally 'tis the season to start formulating next years new year's resolutions...HINT: if the same resolution keeps appearing at the top of your list since the 80's you might wanna hang it up...It's not really panning out. Maybe take the reverse psychology route:
"Who cares if I save at least $15k this year?"
"Why would I wanna drop these 10 beautiful pounds?"
"Does it really matter that I'm pushing 30 and still can't make the time to call my grandparents at least once a quarter?"
"I'm really not seeing the value in donating to charity."
"Renting forever is the best way to secure wealth!"
"Volunteering makes absolutely no sense...I know a large corporation that is willing to pay me oodles for my precious time."
"Why would I dream of beginning to collect pieces that would make my dwelling not appear as though a college freshman decorated it?"
"Why should I try to enhance my culinary skills when those delicious, short order Asian Bistros have delivered many fine meals, in a timely fashion, I might add."
And finally...
"Why in the world would I want to get more education and have additional pesky letters following around the enchanting cluster of characters that spell my name?"

In short my new year's resolution is to not change a damn thing...Let's hope irony take over.

Mean Person Alert: Donald Trump

In case you’ve missed the background story on why Rosie O’Donnell and Donald Trump are fighting, click here.

Donald Trump has made numerous disparaging comments about Rosie’s figure and appearance. I thought that making comments about people’s weight went out of style in the 80’s when Tracy Gold became anorexic as a result of the fat jokes that were part of the Growing Pains plot. In addition, Trump also claimed that getting Rosie’s wife Kelli to leave her would be simple. So simple that all he would have to do is send one of his “pals” to their house and Kelli would leave.

Since Office Tan is a publication for mature and refined readers, I will not comment on how Donald Trump is sitting in a REALLY fragile glass house as he hurls his insults. In addition, I will not recall the time that I saw Donald Trump in person when he was a guest at the Ellen DeGeneres show where I happened to notice that he was (to use the technical term) not-so-svelte himself. Finally, I will not mention that his comb-over looks like a red-brillo-creepy-pasted on-smelly-sprayed-creepy (again)-cheap-gross toupee.

Now, Rosie has commented that she brought Kelli to work because she’s afraid that “someone with a comb-over” is going to go to her home and steal her. Obviously, Kelli can’t go with Rosie to work every day so Office Tan is asking for volunteers to sit for 8 hour shifts outside of Rosie’s home on “comb-over watch” for the next week in case Donald or one of his pals comes by. And don’t worry about volunteering for Christmas Day. Office Raider was kicked out of the church long ago and will take that shift.

Rising and Shining to Give God My Glory Glory

Someone has died, someone is missing, someone’s country has fallen apart. This is what I hear on the news every morning when my clock radio begins playing to alert me that it’s time to wake up.

I struggle with waking up as it is and then to hear some god awful news is a bad way to start the day. But I am a woman of action. Yesterday, I rolled my radio dial across various channels until I found a station that is in Turkish. So now, when I wake up I can listen to sad/bad news in Turkish.

A Very Important Research Report from Office Tan

Besides being a source of inspiration for your life in the office, we, at Office Tan, strive to bring you cutting edge research reports on employment. Today, we are releasing an in-depth study that we have conducted called, “Jobs Where You Get to Yell at People”. If yelling at people is your passion, then turn your passion into your profession with one of these jobs. The top 4 jobs include…

4. Post office worker (urban areas only) – if you really like yelling at people, start this job during the holiday season. I was there yesterday and it was a zoo with numerous opportunities for yelling at people. There were TWO employees berating an old and frail woman for putting Express Mail tape on her Priority Mail package. I know, I couldn’t believe that someone would make that mistake either. In rural areas like Kentucky, these jobs are not suitable for yeller-at-ers. You’ll see maybe one customer per day and that person will probably be your neighbor. Yelling at your neighbor (who probably owns a shotgun)=not a good idea.

3. DMV worker – same idea as the post office AND unlike the post office where dissatisfied customers can go to FedEx or UPS, there are no alternatives to the DMV for driving stuff. So you really can yell at a bunch of people and they won’t leave.

2. Traffic cop – This one is dedicated to Owfice Burn who takes great delight in observing traffic cop rage during her daily commute over the Brooklyn Bridge. Owfice Burn conducted this study and reports that traffic cops will sometimes chase your car and bang on it if you miss one of their hand signals. So maybe this job is most suitable for people who are passionate about chasing cars…and banging on them.

AND THE NUMBER ONE JOB FOR YELLING AT PEOPLE IS…

1. Military drill instructor – Office Raider and I each attended a military boot camp one summer during our college years. If you get this job, you will go to SCHOOL to learn how to yell at new recruits. I was yelled at often for allegedly smiling when I was supposed to be practicing my stern military face, allegedly looking like a boy (whoops!) and for (not allegedly) “sucking” at everything. With this job, you are permitted to tell all recruits at all times that they “suck”. Is that your passion? Then credit Office Tan with revealing the key to a rewarding career path.

Green Onion Indictement Looms

In regard to the latest taco bell e-coli assault:

Green onion, listen up, you're free to walk the streets, FOR NOW.

“There’s nothing to implicate green onions right now,” said Dr. David Acheson, chief medical officer for food safety at the federal Food and Drug Administration.

Spinach has been subpoenaed and isn't talking.

The investigation is however ongoing.

This made me chuckle

Free Myspace Comments

Listen...I spent the whole night trying stay awake in front of damn chilean sea bass...this is all I got for now...my deepest apologies. Please check back frequently for when my creativity returns.

An Office Tale

As reported earlier, I, Office Knight, have taken a new job. We* are so pleased with our new job because we get to think important finance thoughts all day which we have loved doing ever since we learned that smart financial moves=more money for Chinese food takeout (our favorite).

We are also especially delighted that our new job, while technically a Wall Street position, does not resemble the dry and cutthroat Wall Street of the movies. In fact, during our work day, we have been invited to office karaoke parties, bake sales, author readings and ice cream socials. We feel that we are actually attending a really fun middle school.

On Thursday, however, our office bliss was crushed. We had attended a lunch and had carefully saved our cookie in a plastic lunchbox which we placed in the office refrigerator. We didn’t put our name on it because we did not want to look foolish in our Wall Street job. Hours later, we returned to find that the cookie had been gobbled up by one of our esteemed colleagues. We are still considering launching an investigation or hanging a note in said fridge to warn potential thieves.

Beware of crossing Office Knight.

*I’ve elected to use the “royal we” as inspired by our dear friend La Gringa

New Health and Wellness Guidelines

Okay...I've sort of had it with these lethal vegetables. First spinach, now green onions?? For years the understanding has been that vegetables are the mainstay of a healthy diet. Children have been harassed for eons to eat spinach, a conspiracy so omnipotent that even the cartoonists got involved creating Popeye the sailor man and his anorexic wife. In retrospect, Olive Oyl being so skinny made sense if all she and Popeye ate was spinach but I find it highly suspect that Popeye was able to reach such hypertrophy on spinach alone...I smell foul play. It's neither here nor there at this point, I guess.
So here's my gripe: We have now lost two things that were supposed to be good for us and that are now downright dangerous. So I would like to swap these two things out (the green onions won't be missed on dates around the world, but who cares) for two things that are currently dangerous that should now be made unharmful or hell, part of a healthy lifestyle.

1) Tanning: I don't like being pale. I mock being pale...hello, Office Tan?? Until now, I've suffered through the embarrassment of brown collars and bra straps and sheets stamped with my bronze silhouette. Today I am tossing out my self tanners, canceling my airbrush tan membership and booking a trip to an exotic location directly on the equator. Sun Seekers rejoice! UV rays prevent cancer, boost immunity and kiss your skin with an irresistible cinnamon hue that renders potential suitors practically powerless. Great, that's done.

2)Alcohol: I know, I know there's been studies that show that 1-2 drinks/day has cardiovascular benefits but I'm not talking about being allowed to have a small, daily dose of alcohol. First, I would like the 7 calories per gram of alcohol to be removed. Then I would like alcohol to not only not interfere with my ability to operate heavy machinery but enhance it so I can drive myself to and fro my debauchery depot of choice without a shred of guilt or concern for my legal record. Finally, I would like the new guidelines to show that alcohol improves liver function and that shots are a crucial part of any meal and that keg stands should be supplemented whenever possible.

As more and more things like running and flossing become increasingly harmful additional splurges will be reviewed and recommended.

TGIF without DJ Tanner is IF. Happy Friday my friends.

Gargamel, We Were Wrong

I've been thinking a lot about Gargamel again, the cranky guy from the smurfs. It occurred to me recently that maybe he wasn't a bad man. Maybe he was just depressed and didn't have health insurance to get the medicine that he needed. If that was the case, shouldn't we all feel bad for being so damn judgmental of Gargamel for all of these years.

Look at what some bitchy person wrote about him on Wikipedia?

"Gargamel is an evil wizard whose main goal is to destroy the smurfs. His back is perpetually stooped, his robe is worn and patched, and his teeth are rotten."

The stooped back, the rotten teeth, yeah he definitely didn't have health insurance. And was it necessary to make fun of his clothes? The smurfs didn't look so attractive either in their clothes but you never hear about that.

Anyway, take a moment today to think about Gargamel and then ask yourself if maybe you've been a little unfair.

Gargamel, wherever you are, we're sorry.

-Office Knight

Deep Thoughts by Office Raider

Today my mobile office didn't start...aka my not-so-well built American made company vehicle. This is certainly understandable since it is pushing 2 years old...NOT. Yup, I said, NOT. Anyhoo, I had to wait in my unheated car for roadside assistance and during that time I had a chance to ponder some questions that you, the sophisticated readers of Office Tan, may want to mull over as well.

Why does my Duane Reade pharmacist have no teeth?

I wonder if the woman that was wearing a cow costume when I almost ran her over is still mad at me?

Why has the cost of almost every good or service in the past 10 years gone up with the exception of the lap dance? Still $20!

Why did former president Andrew Jackson not comb his hair before his photo shoot for the twenty dollar bill?

Why has Taco Bell been generously offering up free E-Coli to poor, unsuspecting residents of Long Island and New Jersey? Is this some kind of B&T genocide dreamed up by the same people that came up with "Think outside the bun?"

Why do I see old men coming out of peep shows at 11:00am on a Tuesday? Is this the only time and place they could think of to "romance" themselves?

Why are the employees of AM New York so damn enthusiastic?

Do you think Smurfette got to hook up a lot?

How is that it took me until this year to find out that Duane Reade is an intersection in lower Manhattan and not a dude that looks like Eddie Murphy?

Did anyone else think that 1010 Wins was 1010 Winds? I did.

Ok. That's enough. By the way, Office Raider and Office Knight are two different people. I'm Office Raider.

This is one of my favorite lies EVER!

News from the 80's: Ms. Francis Hoffman Loses her Virginity to Someone Mean

I've been walking around with this analysis in my head for years and I'm finally gonna toss it out to ya...what the hell is Johnny Castle's problem in Dirty Dancing? I watched Dirty Dancing like 8 million times as a child, much to my bee keeper Grandpa's chagrin because he didn't like all that "rawk muuze-ik." So I know pretty much every line and am totally guilty of over using "Nobody puts baby in the corner" as cheap attempt to stand up for myself. So back to Johnny Castle...First of all, anyone notice he wore the same outfit the entire movie? The reason I take issue with Johnny is he was totally bitchy to Baby the whole time and yet she was still enamored with him. Being exposed to this at a young age is probably why I may have made some very unwise boyfriend choices in the past :ZING:
Don't cha think it's a little ridiculous that Baby wasted her whole summer in the Catskills learning silly dance numbers because Penny got knocked up by Robbie the creep? What's Penny's problem? Just 'cause you get pregnant and then have an abortion doesn't mean you can't dance for a whole summer. And did you notice that Johnny didn't know that her real name was Ms. Francis Hoffman 'till after they did a lil' horizontal dirty dancing. I will say this though...When Baby carried the watermelons to that slutty, sweaty "staff only" dance club I immediately wanted to work at that resort so I could bump in grind with my cohorts after hours. And one more thing...Baby's sister, Lisa, was really lame and couldn't sing at all.

Yes its friday night and i am pulling my weight on the blog

ummm...just to add to office raider's important rant, why is it necessary for my dying cell phone to frantically alert me every 5 seconds that it's running on empty?? i feel like that beep alone is draining a significant portion of its dwindling little span. what consumer compaint prompted them to install the most f'in annoyingly loud and unrelenting alert beep?? i imagine that some glamerous individual probably missed a crucial social function because they were not informed that the tiny sliver of red in the battery icon meant: LOW BATTERY!! perish the thought that one should be incommunicado and lose connection to the civilized world for even a moment. as a result we all must now suffer the consequences. ok, enough for now: weekend is here and i have many important social functions to attend. thanks to my well charged cell phone, i shant miss a moment of action.

Hold Me...Nah, just kidding. No touching

I really enjoy the "critical battery" alert because it always reminds me to plug in my computer to avoid the risk of losing "my work." Point of clarification: Unfortunately, at NO TIME am I ever doing any "work" on this computer. My work computer, however is another story. I do lots of important stuff on there. I would appreciate the option to customize this display so it would read something more appropriate like "Hey numbnutz...plug in your computer to avoid losing your nonsense." I don't have much to say today so this concludes the documentation on my really fascinating thoughts for now. Shake what your mama, or legal guardian or whatever, gave ya.

Some important information

1. This is a picture of our grandma's new knee. Doesn't it look like an awesome knee? I think it's made of metal or plastic or recycled tires.

2. Office Raider found a bug in her pasta salad. She's fine though. Thanks for your good wishes.

Sincerely,

Office Knight

Sex Crimes in the Vegetable Aisle

Look what happened to our groceries!

(This is real footage from the Office Clan household)

OLD NEWS: Dixie Chicks get threatened by a Bumpkin

So you know the song, "I'm not ready to make nice" by the Dixie Chicks? Well there is a part of that song that I think needs some deeper examination...see bolded font below:

And how in the world
Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over
I'm not ready to make nice...

Ok...this is how it plays out in my imagination...all in a hick accent (Finetic hick spelling has been provided for those with minimal exposure to hicks)

Nat-ah-lee,
Here's a sig-jestion...whyy-ee don't 'choo shut up and sang or-ee your li-afe will be over?
How da-are yew talk about the honorable Mr. Bush like that or Tixis (Texas) when you was visitin' Angle-land (England). You better keep this litter (letter) quieter than a mouse pissin' on cotton.

Salutations,
Norma Miller

A quick backgrounder, all she said was that she was ashamed that George W was from Texas. Honestly...doesn't this person have more important things to do than send death threats to Natalie Maines? Perhaps they can focus on sitting on their rickety porch watching their hick sunset...
My apologies if any hicks were offended in this rant. I'm allowed, I'm from cowboy stock.

Word up,
Office Raider

A Review of Fine Dining

Ono Hotel Gansevoort 18 9th Avenue

My Dining experience

Located in the uber-trendy Hotel Gansevoort where skinny jeans have been spotted on the stems of equally skinny European lads way before skinny jeans were cool. I took a very "discerning" (that's polite for ridiculously hard to please) psychiatrist here, per his recommendation. Upon our arrival, we were brought to our first table when he gasped with disgust, "This table is just too noisy" and the nervous hostess now made really nervous excuses herself for reinforcements. A tall gentleman with slicked back hair comes back with her and Mean psych tells him that "we" need another table. So the tall gentlemen leads us to another table, located in the not-much quieter back and mean psych barks "You gotta be outa ya mind, bring me to a table with real chairs." This table had benches. The hostess and the tall gentleman disappear again and during this time a bus boy gets victimized by mean psych as he tries to walk by our group, "Next time go around 'little boy,'" mean psych hisses. The hostess and the tall guy come back and lead us to a small table, in a quiet area with backs on the chairs and finally mean psych is pleased. "Now this is a real table." Yes, unlike all those imaginary, faux tables we looked at previously...
Once we had alienated the entire staff we ordered cocktails and food and the evening was going smoothly. This is until mean psych begins to eat his lobster corn-on-the cob style like Darryl Hannah in Splash, but, whatever, she had an excuse, she was a mermaid. I look over and he's licking each of his digits clean with delight and I notice what I think is some black stuff on his teeth. At this point I'm staring...What is that?! He excuses himself to the restroom (a lovely restroom they have at Ono, I will add) and returns pointing to his mouth with shock, "I broke my tooth!" The "black stuff" that I thought I saw was really just "black" space. Mean psych was so angry and needless to say we didn't get dessert. Fortunately, it was warm out so there was no traumatizing of any coat check personnel and I lipped "sorry," 'cause I'm sure that made it all better, to the hosts at the front as we left the restaurant.

Delicious: Lobster cooked in soy butter

Not so delicious: Maneuvering in and out of the tables that are supposed to make you look like you're sitting on the floor. You'll most likely end up sliding around on all fours across silky pillows to get to your seat. My suggestion: ask for the "aisle" seat. ( I sat at these during another visit...Yes I had the nerve to go back.)

Cost: Really FRICKIN' expensive.

Decor: Perty nice...There are these weird, large rocks that I thought were big hunks of fish...But they weren't.

Service: Awesome even if you abuse them.

The real deal on real estate

Office Raider and I are real estate geeks. We like to read all of the sales ads and imagine our futures as real estate moguls. Along the way, we've learned to decode a few of the jargon terms that are used by realtors to lure unsuspecting buyers.

Should you be on the hunt for your dream home soon, read on.

Real Estate Jargon Terms

Charming : Really f*ing small

Needs TLC: The place is falling apart

Converted one bedroom: Watch for the styrofoam wall that someone's uncle put up in half an hour to trick you into thinking that you're not buying a studio

Exposed brick: You'd better hope that your drunk friends don't wipe out and scratch their elbows against your walls

Custom made Murphy bed: The place is so damn tiny that your bed has to live in the wall

Pre-War building: Cute building exterior, nice interior moldings, crappy shower pressure

Post-War building: Can anyone say communist influenced architecture? No offense to communists, but let's face it, they're not so sharp on aesthetics

Great starter home: The place might be kind of crappy

No pets: Mean people are in charge of the building rules

Easy board: The board wants to get it on with you

Walk-up: For lord's sake, DO NOT skrimp on paying movers

Sleeping loft: Tell your one-night-stand not to stand up

Gunther: The Sexy Creep

This is an example of what some people abroad think is hot...too funny and not a joke!

Real life Amelia Bedelias: WARNING- potentially Gross for the lame Stomach

The following anecdotes were provided by one of my most adored clients, whose name happens to rhyme but will be withheld for the time being...well, probably forever. Let's call him Snazzy MD. Snazzy MD was outlining some of the woes of working with people who may have not taken education as seriously as others and/or are heavily medicated with preparations often on sale in many NYC parks.
One day Snazzy MD was having a terrible time getting one of his subjects to provide a clean urine specimen, for reasons beyond needing further explanation. He handed her some iodine and explains that he wants her to apply it to her labia to clean the area before collecting the specimen. She goes into the restroom only to return moments later proudly holding a cup of pee and a big red face smeared with iodine...to her credit "Labios" means lips (on the face) in spanish, potentially the reason why she opted to apply iodine to her face and not those parts where the sun don't shine.
Another time, Snazzy MD gave one of his patients some suppositories to help relieve the sufferer of some constipation. I'm sure this constipation was certainly from lack of fiber in their diet and definitely not from popping vicodin like tic tacs... Anyway, the patient leaves with the suppositories and follows up a few days later with complaints that the suppositories didn't work very well and TASTED HORRIBLE! Perhaps it wasn't made clear that you don't swallow suppositories...
I hope you enjoyed these stories as much as I did. I had the pleasure of enjoying them over a calamari appetizer.

Google Images: Part Deux

Office Raider according to Google Images



Office Knight according to Google Images

BREAKING NEWS: Thanksgiving Intruder

Today we were resting quietly by the fire to celebrate another generous harvest when the fattest squirrel ever came flying down our chimney! The squirrel came shooting out of the fireplace and started dashing around the home as we all screamed and chaotically scurried to steer it out the door. While the door was open our dog, Count, took it upon himself to leave as well. Then the squirrel finally darted out the door and order was restored. Count was returned to us by our 14 year old neighbor moments later. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

Death by Sex and Chocolate!! Sad but true story

While I was raiding offices today I ducked into one of my more favorite offices in Chelsea where each and every time I visit I end up spending 45 minutes hob-knobing with one of the best New Yorkers I've ever met. Normally when I walk in I'm greeted with hugs but today was different. When I walked in there was another office raider from another company sitting there and the office staff was unusually mum. I've met this fellow office raider before and he always struck me a tad too wired with undue enthusiasm. Let's call him Hoppy. Well...Hoppy shared with the patrons and myself that today was the 1 year anniversary of his dog's death. I sympathized with him. Fortunately now he has a new dog and claims he gave her all sorts of gifts today in attempts to bribe the dog from dying on him like his last dog who died "suddenly." I see the usually jovial staff sort of sneer as they listen to Hoppy share this sad account. Hoppy leaves the building and this is when I'm briefed on how the last dog really died.
Hoppy went out on the town in pursuit of a nice male companion as he often does. Awesome New Yorker shares with me that while Hoppy works his magic he's often been overheard saying "Gee I should really get home to walk my dog." Hence setting up what seems to be like a history of dog neglect. Apparently the demise of this dog came to be the fateful night Hoppy found himself a suitable companion to invite back to his probably equally annoying dwelling. According to Awesome New Yorker, the dog was visibly ill and vomiting because he had gotten into some chocolate to which he was allergic. Unfortunately, Hoppy, in the throws of passion, decided that he needed to get his "swerve" on before tending to his ill K9. By the time this newly formed union finished the freak nasty the dog was beyond help and with the dog angels. When Awesome New Yorker got wind that Hoppy got a new pup he was so enthralled he contacted the ASPCA! They were not able to substantiate the story and Hoppy will never be the wiser. Moral of the story: don't choose sex over man's best friend, it just ain't right and it makes people hate you.

true story

owfice burn walked into a neighborhood bodega late the other night on her way back from the bar. owfice burn somehow miraculously recalled that she was running low on toilet paper and did the responsible adult thing by replenishing. she was handsomely rewarded by the good lord. she encountered an irate customer who standing up for his consumer rights (must have read office knights many customer complaint blogs). apparently he was sold an expired condom from the chinese immigrant shopkeep who's english was pretty much limited to "no refund fo you." owfice burn was first clutching her toilet paper, fearing that someone was going to get shot over this little dispute. then...the customer whips out his cell phone threatening, "if you don't facking give me my muny back i am facking cawling the cops!!" "no refund for you" owfice burn is watching this escalate with great interest. "HAllo, i would like to report an amergency,the amergency is located at..where you at?.."OK the emergency is at 5th and Garfield." "Yes i was sold an expiued condom." The stor is cawled: organic grocery. fruit. dot. vegetable. dot. beverages. dot ciggarettes dot" the man is now walking along reading every single item listed on the auning to the 911 operator." Owfice burn and the remaining customers in the shop comment quietly among themselves, "I don't think I would classify this as an emergency. you? no..You..No I am out of toilet paper. That is an emrgency.. i agree."
true story..though i did not stick around for the arrival of law enforcement.

A few Random thoughts

Why does predictive text pretend to not know profane words? You realize this was probably debated in a boardroom and some gross hypocrite dad ruled against it. If I want to curse at my friends it shouldn't take me 20 minutes to toggle through the letter choices to do so.

Adding no offense to the end of any statement makes it automatically offensive. Watch: I really don't like yogurt...no offense. Sounded rude didn't it?


Did the Tom Petty video for "Don't come around here no more" make you feel creepy? Made me feel creepy.

Some of the dogs in the city look like weird people.

People who say "touche" think they're really fancy.

What about when others refer to someone as being "really rich" that's kinda 80's don't cha think?

Anyone who refers to a person as being "oriental" is either not so intelligent or a senior citizen.

Do you feel shy immediately leaving a store when you realize that all their merchandise is out of your price range and pretend to browse for a few minutes as to not look cheap or dumb? I do.

Fun fact of the day: Office Knight's bed is a taco.

Weekend Edition: Ann Taylor Slut

Does everyone know what an "Ann Taylor Slut" is? Ok. If you don't, this is an important term to know if you live in the suburbs, the Upper East Side or go out to bars near Grand Central. An Ann Taylor slut is girl who goes out in essentially what most would call business casual. Usually the pants are khakis with a high rise, in some extreme cases they cover the navel. The top is often a twin set shell without it's cardigan twin. The shoes are definitely flat or have a small stacked heal, never stilletos and most likely not even a kitten heel. The slut part comes in after the tucked and ironed lass has had a few drinks. The more sophisticated Ann Taylor sluts will have a dirty martini or a cosmopolitan. But then there are those that are still trying to impress their business casual frat boy friends and order something like a Stella. After three or more drinks the pale (or shall we say, "office tanned") body starts to dance up a storm, wildly tossing her not so properly coiffed dry puff of hair. This is when it gets good. Office knight has witnessed a few late night moments involving Ann Taylor Sluts including someone's lovely loafers hanging out the window of a cab; another time one was overheard saying "Who turned on the AC?" referring to the cold air of the night. The Ann Taylor slut represents the soft spoken girl who works way too many hours hence the disproportionate amount of work clothes to "going out" clothes who sits quietly at her cube all day. I suggest going out with her because she'll party like a rock star and I'm guessing it's not to hard to get into them chinos.

The Damage is done!

I know everyone was anxiously awaiting the conclusion to my riveting tale about the controversial myspace friend request from my teen cousin and I actually have authentic content from both Office Knight (who is still asleep as far as the blog is concerned) and the teen cousin. In efforts to not bruise the highly malleable teen ego Office Knight (whose myspace profile is suitable for adolescent viewing) came to the rescue and sent this note below to try to smooth things over.

HEY! So glad we're friends! So get this--I don't think you should add Office Doll and Office Raider as friends because some of their friends write them messages that I don't think your parents and your friends' parents would think are appropriate.
What is your updated email address? Office Raider and Office Doll want to send you email.

xoxox
Cousin Office Knight


Teen Cousin's Response

Me too.....i was thinking about going through all my email addresses to see if people i know have a myspace. I already requested them but if they write anything inappropriate i could just delete the message or something. (Teen cousin provides her email)

DOES ANYONE REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?? This means that teen cousin thought that Office Doll and I were going to leave HER inappropriate messages! Yes this makes a lot of sense: We cannot approve your friend request because if we do we will be unable to help ourselves from sending you lewd messages. Teen cousin's mother (our Aunt) has never really been a huge fan of any of us and I would venture to say that Teen Cousin's mother has been briefed on this exchange. It is almost certain at this point that we are never going to get invited to their house, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, because in teen cousin's mind her Office cousins have what appears to be no impulse control. Classic.


Peace out,
Office Raider

You should be ASHAMED of yourself!

A humbling realization was made yesterday: I'm inappropriate! Now, as we all know inappropriate is a relative term. The inappropriate I'm referring to is kind of like the grandmother's idea of inappropriate: pretty much anything you can think of that would be fun that doesn't involve producing something useful or worshipping the Lord. I've been inappropriate for as long as I can remember, thinking back to when I was just a wee Office Raider there was a particular event that started what has turned out to be a lifetime of inappropriateness to date. It was 1986 and little Office Raider with her budding penchant for music wanted to be Cyndi Lauper for Halloween. Office Raider's mom was quite crafty and made the young Office Raider the most wonderful Cyndi Lauper costume complete with the newspaper skirt and blue eye shadow. When Office Raider arrived to the kindergarten Halloween parade her mean, scary teacher thought the costume to be too suggestive for a 5 year old and was sent home. The rest of Halloween '86 was spent as a buttoned up pirate. Yes this is a true story.

Anyway, what spawned my dipping into the inappropriate archives was a friend request on myspace from my 14 year old cousin. I realized I couldn't accept her request due to the fact that numerous and possibly true conclusions could be drawn about me due to the content on my page. The last thing I need is my Dad to hear that any of the following could be potentially true:

1) Office Raider has a drinking problem: many of the comments left by my site's passerby's reference one time or another where my ability to walk, talk or remember something was impaired.
2) Office Raider fancies herself a sex symbol: For a brief moment I picked up a hobby that is now referred to as my stint as a "Non-Profit" model. This resulted in a collection of highly gratuitous images that now swivel in and out on a slide show on my myspace page.
3) Office Raider is maturing at a rate that is less than favorable: I'm on myspace in the first place!

Stay tuned on how Office Knight tried to save the day by explaining to the 14 year old cousin why we can't be "friends" on myspace. The response from my cousin is priceless and simultaneously raises concerns that her reading comprehension skills may be in need of some extra attention.

It's gone too far!

I witnessed first hand this weekend the grip that corporate America has on it's members. My other sister (not office Knight), we'll give her an honorary office title....Office Doll. Office Doll buys toys for a living. Office Doll and I go out together almost every weekend. It's down to a science at this point: Office Doll comes to my apartment, I make a few drinks with the infamous office raider heavy hand and we crank up the itunes, much to the chagrin of my neighbors. When Office Doll and I go out we try to leave the stress of the daily grind behind. Stressing about work or other boring things like 401k's has no place on the dance floor. For one evening a week, the palm pilots and spreadsheets are traded in for high heels and tank tops. Well this week Office Doll broke the rules and had a business inspired panic attack/hallucination! It was well past midnight and probably 4 redbull vodkas plus a few mystery shots later when the panic struck: Office Doll had herself convinced that her phone was sending texts messages to her boss! Hell bent on washing my stresses down with too many alcoholic concoctions I was in no position to reason with Office Doll and just started yelling...Here we are two blondes that look an awful lot a like in our little jeans and shoes screaming at each other in front of a line of awaiting clubgoers. Finally I thrusted my arm into the air to hail a cab yelling "We have to go home since your phone is sending unauthorized text messages to your boss!" The evening was a bust. Thank you John Doe of Widgets Inc.

The Blog Is Going to Sleep for a Little While

Why, you ask? There are several reasons:

1. Office Knight will be joining a new office and must focus her magical talents on her new office duties
2. Owfice Burn is too busy shopping for sweatpants so that predators won't steal her away from us when she goes jogging
3. Office Raider is busy battling the forces of traffic darkness (remember, Office Raider's office has wheels, a transmission and a spare tire)
4. And besides, we all could've been killed recently by a batch of poison spinach. As a result, we need time to reflect on how fragile life is. Not to mention, I've been calling Popeye non-stop and haven't heard back yet. I'm totally worried about him. (and yes, this is the world's most awful joke).

When the blog comes back to life, we will send out an urgent bulletin. Then you will be able to experience the joy again of reading about our important lives.

Thank you for your faithful readership.

The Office Tan Management

DAMN!

It's finally happened! I've listed some of the perils of having an office on wheels previously such as injuring someone if I bump them with my office or being fined for not paying for my office to stay somewhere for a certain period of time. I've adjusted to these things and it is what it is. BUT one danger I haven't taken seriously enough is the fact that others can see me in my office pretty much at all times unless I get on the floor or something. By the way, if I'm on the floor in my office it probably means I've decided I'm in some kind of grave danger or I'm taking a secret, unauthorized nap. Anyway, I like to pump up the music in my office and we're not talking respectable, cool-people music like indie bands or classic rock, I'm talking like KTU guido anthems. Put on "It's Raning Men" or a new fave "SexyBack" by Justin Timberlake and I can't help but practically do the tootsie roll. Well...as I was walking into a meeting today I saw one of my customers miming what appeared to be someone driving a car, leaning back and dancing and I knew it, I knew it right away. As I approached the table he broke the news: "I saw you driving down 9th avenue groovin' in your car." I tried to play it off like I must have been joking with someone in the car but he wasn't having it, "You were alone," he said. Oh. I just let it go, my co-workers giggling with delight as they know about my propensity for really, really wrong music. That's it. So I got caught dancin' in my office, it was bound to happen. Have a great labor day y'all.

European Vacation

Office Knight and I are in the same family. I have an important story about our most recent family vacation, which was actually a year ago. I'm not gonna give you a play by play of the whole trip because that's boring rather I'll run down the list of the some of the most foolish moments in my entire life:

1. The fancy Peugeot rental is too small for all of us and our luggage and is a stick shift
2. Joanne (our other sister who works with toys) loses her luggage for about 2 hours
3. We get lost for about 3 hours
4. Office Raider offends all of Portugal by trying to use her Spanish to communicate
5. We almost roll into the ocean when trying to get up a 90 degree hill due to rusty stick driving skills
6. Office Raider whimpers as we almost roll into the ocean
7. Office Raider's mother tells her to shut up repeatedly and then kicks everyone out of the car
8. Office Raider's Father's retina becomes detached and can't join the family fun
9. Office Knight tries to pants office raider and gets smacked
10. It is concluded that violence may be a more effective strategy for conflict resolution
11. Ruby gets yelled for not informing Office Raider about an insect resting on her

At the conclusion of the journey to Portugal, I realized some major things about my travel preferences. I announced that my next adventure would be a well organized, highly commercial trip where everyone gets an itinerary and a hat.

There's a Plumber in all of us

I went to a really fine institution where I met my closest friend, we will call her Ruby (a derivative of her actual name coined by Office Knight). We proceeded to live together for all four years. We now both reside in the big (currently hot & smelly) big apple where we can continue to dote on our mundane accomplishments. Well this week there was a huge breakthrough at Ruby's residence. She has been complaining of unsatisfactory water pressure in her shower for over a year now and finally took the reigns and bought a shower head which would remedy the situation. I have to stress that low water pressure in a shower for anyone like myself or Ruby is a huge problem because we have big, poofy hair that takes hours to wash the shampoo out if the pressure isn't sufficient. We experienced this in a really, really unfortunate hotel in Jamaica. Anyway, she bought the shower head. Then she realized she needed needle nose pliers, which she referred to as "Needle Pliers." Well, in the big, smelly apple if you need "Needle Pliers" at 11:30pm someone's got 'em. So she went out and got the pliers to remove the vital piece from her shower that would let the new shower head function at it's best. The next morning I get a phone call from Ruby. She claims that when she turned on her shower she was "thrown against the wall." The visual of Ruby being slammed against the wall by her pseudo hydrant was really just too much. Thank goodness I was in my office on wheels where I could guffaw at my heart's content. She now will use her "needle pliers" to put the piece back.

Because We Ran Out of Ideas

We’ve been missing in action because, I, Office Knight have been at a very important health retreat and because we’ve run out of ideas for posting. It’s possible that we’ve already written on every topic that there is to write about. Sigh. It certainly is difficult being so deeply intellectual.

Last night, we had one last idea to write about. I was going to report on a riveting dream that I had in which I was put in charge of feeding farm animals. One of the cows told me that he was very hungry—famished, in fact. Upon closer inspection, I realized that he was lying and had plenty of food! Office Knight was deceived by a member of the bovine community.

To reiterate, it is agonizing to be so deeply intellectual. I opted not to post this engaging tale because Office Raider felt that it might detract from the high standards of journalism that we keep at officetan.com.

So no new content yet. However, if anyone has any special requests please feel free to post them in the comments or send an email. I could always revive one of my old fancy talents like reciting a Lee Press-On Nails commercial from 1986. Actually, I’d probably charge a fee for something like that.

Bones

I am pissed off at Hickory Farms. Yep, I am. I found another bone in my Hickory Farms andouille sausage. I want to write them a letter to tell them that I hate that they sold me sausages with bones but Office Raider tells me that I’m going to get “locked up” if I keep writing weird customer complaint letters. But what if I do it anyway? What if I write to Hickory Farms to tell them that I hate their boney sausages? How would I tell them?

Dear Hickory Farms,

Another day, another bone in one of my Hickory Farms sausages. Why do you sell me sausages with bones in them? Have I done something to make you think that I like sausages with bones in them? Because I don’t.

If I did want andouille sausages with bones in them, I would expect that I could select a package that would say, “includes bones” or “includes tasty bones” or “includes farm-fresh bones”, however you might say it. This package did not mention bones.

Please stop feeding me bones for dinner. As I said, I don’t like them.

Sincerely,

Office Knight

Everyone loves free stuff

As an office raider one of my many responsibilities is to deliver free branded items such as pens, pads, mints, little clocks etc etc. This is to remind the people in the office to utilize my important wares. Most of the time there are special receptionist guards that protect the office from too many raiders. These "guards" can always be swooned with a fancy pen or some hand sanitizer and I always found that a little too easy. I've seen people fight over some of the pens,making up sad stories about how they need one of these hot chachkes for their kid or something. I now understand. This past week I relieved myself from my office raiding duties to visit a land where the outrageous are even more outrageous and people wear high heals in the pool. One very special outrageous character who refers to himself and his clothing company as "Mr. Girth" gave me a free t-shirt... Between the free-ness of it and the caption that makes grown professionals behave like adolescents watching scrambled porn I was so excited that I reverted back to my fat-kid-in-a-pool style and wore it in the pool (no I wasn't wearing heals). The caption invited the most entertaining feedback such as I bet you do; Show me; Prove it and so on. Mind you the average age at this lovely function was probably over 30. Mr. Girth and his free t-shirts was adored like an office raider with a free pen that doubles as a memory stick...Except he was drifting around with a gaggle of well endowed strippers instead of receptionists. For the sake of sounding like a fortune cookie (which people fight over as well)...In business and in pleasure giving people something can give you much in return
www.mrgirth.com

Is it me or...

is this photo kind of pervy? CNN published this photo a few months ago for a story on the gas crisis. If I were a photo editor, I'd definitely pick the pervy-est photos even for boring stories like the gas crisis.

Jo Burnism: Rembuh to Hide in the Bushes!

Jo Burn and sister Cath and I recently got into a bit of a tangle over the appropriate safety precawtion to undertake when one experiences a flat tire in a “dangerous” neighborhood.

Jo: Hey listen, I read an e-mail letta that someone in the owfice sent me. Its impow-tant. A police officah sent it. It said you should neva stay in ya cah (car) if it breaks down, becaws that’s exactly where the murderuh’s ah gonna look.

Me: I don’t understand. If your car breaks down, and you’re in a bad neighborhood, where are you going to go that’s safer?? Why wouldn’t you just lock the door and call the tow truck or the police?

Jo: BECAWS…while ya sitting theah, cawlin…they’ll be watchin..and then they’ll bust through the winda, and do Gahd knows what!!!

Me: SOOOO, I don’t understand….where else are you going to go??

Jo: The BUSHES!! You hide in the bushes. The’ll neva know you’re thea. You make the phone cawl from the bushes.

Cath: (hands flailing) Fuhgetit Jo, I’m drivin on the damn flat tiuh (tire) till I find a ghas (gas) station. I don’t care if I ruin the damn cah (car) or tiah or whateva!!

Jo: (hands flailing even more) NONONONONO! CATH! What if you CAN’T drive the cah anymoa. Then you GOTTA hide in the bushes! Undastand??

Cath: Fuget the bushes!

Me: Yea, FUGET THE BUSHES!

--Owfice Burn

Q: What is a tanning salon accident?

A: Tanning salon accident is a term used to describe the conspicuous lobster-esque hue that results from laying below a set of UV ray emitting flash bulbs for a little too long. How do people get tanning salon accidents? One culprit is the junky $5 tanning bed in the back of your "mom & pop" gym’s menthol-scented locker room. The people that man that seldomly-santized capsule have very, very little interest in dissuading you from putting your pale-self in for 20 minutes to "prepare" you for your trip to the Carribean. Then there are your more "upscale" or commercial tanning salons. This is where you find yourself signing forms and giving your entire sun-exposure history to some 16 year-old with bigger tits than you. Then she wants to shove $45/oz tanning "primer" down your throat to help "ya culla develop and last longa." Anyway, my point? These places want to avoid tanning salon accidents at all costs to the point where you waive your right to bitch at them and blame them for your new borsht-like complexion. Then you have to compromise your integrity by "haggling" with teen-titty to get a few extra minutes normally reserved for your melanin-ly gifted folk by claiming you’ve never burned. This is for the overzealous, procrastinating "occasion" tanner. You’re meeting up with an ex for the first time that dumped you to "focus on his career;" You’re going to a wedding and you’ll be face to face with the guy you had a sloppy, drunken one-night stand, who happens to be one of the groomsmen… who you’ve not seen since you called him "cowboy" at 4am. These, my friends, are the worst cases of tanning salon accidents.

This Just In...

Someone named Juana accidentally poured a milkshake on Office Raider at a midtown Starbucks. Office Raider reports that her shirt is “soiled”. She might have to go home.

Everyone take a moment to pray for Office Raider’s shirt.

Public Service Announcement

This might come across as extremely judgmental...BUT it occurred to me when I was retrieving a friendster message from someone that wanted me to "holla back" that one should really think twice about ever contacting someone on the internet whose profile ONLY contains images of them taking pictures of themselves. Like the gross one where there's a big flash in the mirror and you can see some silly person posing in their boxers but you can't really see their face or the one where someone's neck looks all stretched out and you can see up their nose 'cause they're holding the camera out in front of them. The reason I say think twice is having only pictures of yourself taken by yourself is very odd considering it's not 1999 when digital cameras were like $900.00 and only one person per state had one. Everyone has digital cameras now so don't you think it's odd that there are no pictures of this person on a trip or maybe even at a bar...what about a wedding or something? Furthermore, why doesn't this person have anyone around to take a picture of them. Where are their friends? Do they not have any friends? Have they never gone anywhere? Or are they that, um, well icky that all the pictures of them on their vacations or at their graduations turned out really bad? Do you really want to be someone's guinea pig friend? --Office Raider

Thoughts from the Office

As I sit in my office cubicle, I find myself thinking of very important childhood memories like the time that I made a large fortune picking blueberries.

Every summer, I would visit grandparents Office Knight in Washington State. Besides having tons of soda and 2 large freezers full of ice cream, they had a blueberry patch. Picking blueberries rocked because Grandpa Office Knight would always put them in a bag, bring them to his church and sell them for a few dollars to a lucky parishioner. A few bucks here, a few bucks there and I was starting to feel like a very successful fruit vendor.

One day, Grandpa Office Knight informed me that he had received an order from his church friend for 20 pounds of blueberries! I knew that this was my chance to become a very wealthy child fruit vendor so I quickly took my silver bowl and headed to the blueberry patch.

Within a couple of hours I brought the silver bowl, now brimming with blueberries, to Grandpa Office Knight who promptly put them on the scale.

“2.5 pounds,” he said.

I quickly realized that my fruit vendor career was going to be extremely challenging so I begged my sister, Office sister, to join me out in the fields with the promise of large fortunes for both of us.

Off we went to begin filling our silver bowls. At first it was fine. We sang 80’s songs and talked about how we could negotiate a trip to establishments of culinary excellence like McDonald’s. As the time passed, tensions began to mount as we realized we had collected just a small fraction of the 20 lb order.

She claimed that I stepped on her toe on purpose (which I didn’t) and swiftly tossed her bowl of blueberries at my face—perhaps mimicking the mature pie-smashing antics of the Three Stooges. As the portrait of child serenity, I threw my bowl back at her. Now we had 0 pounds of blueberries. Grandparents Office Knight were called to intervene and quickly counseled us on our fruit picking obligations.

The next day, Office sister and I toiled again in the fields vowing not to lose our blueberry crop during heated discussions. Although we adhered to our plan, Office sister stepped on a banana slug in bare feet and in fright, threw our crop into the air. In thinking that perhaps she had been attacked by something very scary, I dropped my bowl and ran away.

My career as a fruit vendor was in serious jeopardy so Grandpa Office Knight stepped in and labored in the blueberry patches until the order was filled.

“How much will we make per pound,” I asked Grandpa Office Knight as he loaded the bags of blueberries into his car.

He muttered something about being a good Christian as he announced that he would be collecting 60 cents/lb or a total of twelve damn dollars.

This concludes today’s important office thoughts.

Owfice Moms

I love the idea that the office operates like a disfunctional family. it really does. i don't care how fancy and corporate you think your firm is. you still have annoying office siblings and there is ALWAYS a cranky but loving office mom. my office mom is cawled Lois. it's her job to bring "cheese an crackas" for everyone on tuesday morning's and "downuts and bagels" on thurdays. she sends out "remindah" e-mails scoldin' people for leaving dirty dishes in the sink "'cause it's disgustin'!!" or threatening, "claim what yuas in the fridge, 'cuz it's awl gettin' towsed out on friday!" She gets fed up when the owfice children act up, ask huh too many questions or leave their toys (aka staplers, binders, paper clips) strewn about the owfice.

--Owfice Burn