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.