Happy Friday!!

I know, I know..... I should wait to post this on Halloween.

I can't help it, it's just too darn funny to keep to myself!

Enjoy!!

The Pubic Hair Contest

Because Jessica didn't think I would actually go through with this.......

Here goes: This is the exact conversation that had transpired between Jessica and Myself.

"On your blog, you should have a special contest in honor of Pube-girl and ask readers to make forced references to pubic hairs. The most forced reference wins!"

"Oh, excellent idea! What could I use as a prize? One of my pubic hairs??LOL!!"

"oh dear lord. Now you have me cracking up. Yes, I DARE you to take a photo of one of your pubic hairs and offer it as a prize. (I can dare you b/c I know you'll never ever do it.)"

Do I have any takers on the contest??

Rules are pretty simple!

Of course, I'm not so certain the prize would be something you would want to put on display.....


Submission #1 came from Jessica herself - "My eyelids are so heavy that I'm looking through little slits no bigger than pubic hairs."

Think you can top that? Drop me a comment! :D

Another day, another reason to run away and hide.....

Women are the most insanely jealous, irrational, flighty people on the face of the earth.

The new quality engineer has been in my area training for the past few days, I'm surprised it has taken until today for the issue I'm about to tell you to arise.

Let's start by stating he's single and, from what he says, financially comfortable. The women in this shop are beginning to line up to get noticed by him, I'm certain, before the end of the week, he will become attached to a few.

So, as I've stated, for the past few days he has been working in inspection with Helen, Julie, and myself trying to get up to speed on what it is that our company does. A very difficult thing for someone who does not have electronics experience.

Today Stephanie showed up and asked me if I would take a look at a Quality issue they have seen on boards on the floor. She was in doubt as to whether or not the boards were being worked on in situations that didn't warrant the work. I looked, I researched in IPC, and I told her I felt the boards did need trace repairs and they should continue doing what they were doing.

This totally ticked off one of the other quality tech's who had apparently told her the exposed traces were acceptable. Like crazy women Stephanie and I searched through the documents and were unable to find anything to validate her statement that the exposed traces were acceptable.

Finally, I told Steph she needed to get with Spice Girl, she was the only person who was qualified to make the decision. In my opinion the boards were all rejects and masking repairs needed to be made.

Spice Girl had made the same decision I did and deemed the boards rejects.

The pissed off quality tech was even more furious. She comes trucking back to my desk and starts questioning how I can go against IPC and what grounds do I have to make the decision. Stephanie, Dave, and the new quality engineer just sat there and stared at the spectacle.

In my calmest voice, I state to her I have not found any valid documentation to state the condition is acceptable. I do have checklists and engineering specs that state the condition to be rejectable, and it is the determination of my area these boards fail line item 7 in the RCP.

Then the new quality engineer speaks up. He has taken my side and aimed his comment right at Sandy.

It infuriated her.

That's when it hit me..... This whole situation had nothing to do with an actual quality issue, it had to do with her getting noticed. I would have never even linked the two scenarios together except somehow she was able to make a reference to a pubic hair in the midst of her next response.

A pubic hair!!

It all became clear to me at that point. She's single and looking for someone to support her. He's single and looking, and self proclaimed 'financially comfortable'. She was trying to make herself noticed by him, and I was throwing a hitch in her plan of coming off suave and intelligent.

Now, I have no idea what the quality engineer had thought of the display, or if he had even given it a thought, but I was non plussed by the whole thing.

• She looks kind of trashy with the fake blond hair and the high heeled boots with footstraps.
• Her girdle was showing when she bent down because her jeans were too low and her shirt was too short.
• Her whole attitude was that of a spoiled rotten bratt that hadn't gotten her way.
• Lastly, who in the heck talks about a pubic hair in a dead serious conversation about the acceptability of boards that cost $1000 a piece once populated??

I'm constantly amazed how I end up involved in situations such as this. They seek me out.

Happy Friday!!

God help us if that duct tape gives out!

The Board of Directors, Trailer Park Trash, and 2 Flat Tires

I've had one of the most terrible days today, I'm just so glad to say it's done.

Joe had once told me that I can't get along with the women where I work. At the time, I laughed it off and that was that. But, it really got me thinking. I think he's right on the money actually.

Case in point. The Board of Directors met in my plant today, something that rarely happens. Everyone has been on their toes trying to make the best impression possible, so, when I heard the loud radio blaring from a neighboring cell, I immediately went over and told the girl we are not allowed to have open air music when company is in house. The Trailer trash little heathen turns the radio down, waits until I'm a few steps away, then turns the thing right back up.

I was absolutely pissed!

I paged her manager and told him he needed to do something about the radio because I had spoken with her only seconds ago and I could still hear the radio playing all the way in the receiving department. Now, I have no idea what transpired between her and her manager, but I do know one thing, the radio was turned off.

The whole situation left me totally raged, actually. How disrespectful to treat a manager in such a way. I don't throw my weight around, or anything, but come on. I was feeling so crappy that I actually spoke with the HR Director about what had happened and the lack of respect I felt most of the new employees had. Which is really bad because he was agreeing with me, and he's only been with the company for 4 weeks.

So, I had aired my grievances, and not once did I mention a name, or a cell, or anything like that. My intent was not to cause trouble, just to be able to, for once, unload my problems on someone else.

Imagine the shock I received when, as I was speaking on the phone, I was told by one of my employees who had been on her way out the door, that she just seen my jeep and it had 2 flat tires on the passenger side.

Coincidence??

I doubt it. After throwing my hands up in the air and completely giving up, I went out to the parking lot with the maintenance guy to have a look. I also called up the HR Director just to be on the up and up, the whole situation was just too fishy. After airing the tires back up, the maintenance guy listened for leaks and looked for anything that may be embedded in the tires. Nothing. The valve cap was missing on the back tire.

As suggested by the HR Director, I went to the tire place to have them give them a thorough look. One tire was fine, the other tire needed a valve stem replaced.

I have my suspicions as to what happened, and they all involve the trampy little Trailer trash whore with the radio.

So, there you have it.

The Secret Pooper

Like a shadow in the night, he slips in to eat his fast food, scurries down to take a dump in my freshly cleaned bathroom, then disappears into thin air, totally unnoticed to me.

I know what you're thinking, how could I have NOT noticed someone else was in those offices while I was cleaning them?? It's a mystery to me!

I'm relieved, actually, up until yesterday I was starting to wonder if the place was haunted. Thank God it's just a guy who eats bad food and has terrible digestion problems. (Ack! The smell coming from that restroom could curl your nose hairs.)

I'm left wondering, though, who the Secret Pooper is. Is it the guy with man boobs who has pictures of himself taken in 1987 posted all over his cork board? Is it the health food fanatic hiding his horrible secret from the world? Or, is it the Fat Ass Receptionist, unable to make it home with her fast food in time to curb her cravings?

I have taken a solemn vow to unmask this Secret Pooper.

Lazy Day

I know I'll regret it, but because I've been sicker then a dog, I've put off cleaning all the offices until tomorrow. That is going to totally put a damper on the whole day. I was soooo close to quitting last week after the chewing gum incident.

Yes, that's right. Chewing gum incident.

The moment I found myself on all fours picking bug infested chewing gum from where it had been embedded into the carpet I knew this job was not for me. The tough thing is, I really like the owner of the cleaning business, and her husband is a business manager where I work. I really get along with him as well, I don't want to leave them in the lurch. Plus, it's an extra $220 a month. Think of all the lipgoss and shoes I can buy with that mad money.

On a different note, I have discovered something today. It takes a certain specialness to be able to efficiently operate a can of spray deodorant, my gene pool did not carry that trait, unfortunately.

Of the many things I was told the day of the 'armpit' episode, one had particularly caught my interest. Someone had mentioned perhaps I should switch to a spray deodorant because she had also been afflicted with something similar and found that by using spray deodorant, the chances of ingrowns become less because there is no build up of chemicals under the arms.

Skeptical as I was, I decided to at least give it a try. What the heck, right??

Wrong!

So far, I've sprayed the crap in my mouth, eyes, and hair. When I was finally able to actually get the deodorant to spray into my armpits, I had to open the windows just to keep myself from getting white lung. It's amazing the cloud that appears after use.

There should be a surgeons general warning on the label - 'Warning, use of this product can induce blindness, shortness of breath, and in severe cases, death.'

Happy Friday!

Have a good one!!

A BK Breakfast

I am the type of person who is entirely too nice to people who do not deserve it.

As is my habit, if I stop to get myself something to eat before work, I always make sure I have brought enough for everyone. It is extremely uncomfortable for me to eat in front of people, especially if I know they will all be watching me.

This morning, however, I was starving, and almost completely broke. I knew as, I was sitting in line at the drive thru, I would regret the decision to get myself a quick bite and try to sneak to my desk.

As expected, the plan blew right up in my face. I work with vultures who continually circle around looking for freebies.

Trying to be as low key as possible, I quietly slipped past the receiving department, only to have my name screamed out in a frantic panic by one of the floor people from one of the production cells.

"Sherri! Sherri!! I've been waiting for you to get here!" she yelled, waving a bag of parts. All eyes were now upon me and my breakfast. Literally, one of the receivers even asked where her sandwich was.

Now, you would think these people would see me standing there, purse over shoulder, BK bag and pop in hand, and think 'why don't I let Sherri get settled and I'll come to her desk with my issue.'

Not the case!

For 30 minutes I stood, in the exact spot I had been stopped at, and listened as a floor person explained in exact detail the 9 million steps it took her to discover that a bag of components had been placed on the wrong cart by one of the receivers. All the while she eyeballed my possessions, I'm certain she was doing it on purpose, so when I finally got a chance to eat my sandwich would be cold.

If that wasn't bad enough, right behind her was one of the receivers, God forbid I actually make it to my desk one day before one of them can have a complete mental breakdown on my shoulders, it just wouldn't be right! So, there I stand still as she tells the tail of her husbands blocked arteries and his risk of stroke.

Mentally I was screaming 'What the hell is wrong with you people?? Do you not have enough respect for me to at least allow me to get to my desk and set my possessions down??'

Then it hit me, they don't. It's a Me Me Me society, no matter what it is that you are doing or thinking, it means nothing to them unless it benefits them in some way. Who cares if you are waiting to eat your breakfast, the real issue is, why didn't you buy them anything to eat?? How dare you show up to work and buy only enough for yourself to eat!

Oh, the Humanity.....

Why is it that a person having the most embarrassing of personal problems will always get a wide spread audience of onlookers and helpers, but the person who is very obviously in need of assistance, will get none??

Many a time I have been in need of someone to heft something really heavy, and many a time I have been left to somehow manage on my own. But, on a day that I want to speak about something embarrassing and personal, I have to beat people off with a stick. It boggles the mind.

I'll bet you're wondering what this is all about by now, aren't you.

Here's the scoop. I awoke this morning with a very sore red bump in my armpit. Almost certain it is an ingrown hair, I decide to confide in a coworker to see what I may be able to do about the situation. The next thing I know I have a hoard of people huddled around my exposed armpit staring at the red bump.

How humiliating is that???

Lesson #1 in work place admissions:

It is never wise to expose something this personal in nature to anyone within your work place. (Unfortunately, I have learned this one the hard way.) You will be invariably humiliated.

A Swarm of Fruit Flies

Mary had brought me in a few tomatoes from her garden last Friday, I didn't have the heart to tell her I don't like tomatoes. What was worse, these were already getting soft, almost squishy to the touch.

Thanking her, I put them in a Wal Mart bag and hid them in my desk drawer with my purse. One thing led to another, and I ended up leaving work early Friday, totally forgetting my purse and the tomatoes in my desk.

Shall we fast forward to this morning?

Today I arrive at work and find that I literally have to swat away fruit flies to get to my desk. 'Where could these things be coming from?' I ask myself. Removing my coat, I hang it on the back of my chair and reach down to check on my purse, I had worried about it all weekend.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked down to see my drawer literally crawling with fruit flies. They were coming from the liquefied remains of the tomatoes Mary had given me.

I almost died.

Glancing out the door, I could see Mary sitting at her desk waving good morning to me. Smiling back, I waved to her and secretly prayed I would be able to hide the evidence before she even knew a thing.

So far, so good.

Embarrassing Moment # 553 - Open Mouth, Insert Foot

In the production managers meeting today I dramatically explained to everyone why I am so grossed out by that wart thing on Jennifer Granholm's face. In my usual fashion, I had gone into great detail.

Then I remembered about the large birth mark on the face of one of the production manager's wives.

He never said a word.

Birthday Blues

Audrey has been crying all morning. She thrives on the attention, it makes me ill. She won't tell anyone what is wrong with her so we are all left to assume that, because today is her birthday, she's having birthday blues. I think it's a crock of shit. She just wants attention.

You don't see me in here blubbering, nobody even has a clue that I got into a huge fight with Charlie this morning and broke just about every dish in the cupboard when he threw his damn shoe at me. As embarrassing as that might be, I did do that. Then cried all the way to work. But, because it was Audrey's birthday, I faked a good mood and came cruising in with her birthday gift, because, as you have probably already guessed it, once again I was put in charge of making sure she got something.

I can't even tell you how pissed off I was that she didn't even open the gift and sat there and cried in front of everyone like a big fucking baby.

I feel like my entire life is crashing down around me and she's devastated because she turned 42 today.

Summer has come to a close...

Yes, it's true, summer has officially ended. The leaves are turning and today was the first day of school for the kids, much to their dismay.

I'm amazed at how big Zachary has gotten. He and I are now the same height, he's only 12 years old. Ugh!! Why do they have to grow up!

I'm feeling a ton better today, it's nice to get out of the house. It is entirely wrong for a person to feel so trapped and claustrophobic inside their own home. Your home is supposed to be a refuge, a place of security and happiness.

I feel guilty that I can not stand to be around my husband anymore, but it's the Gods honest truth.

"Are you going to wear that stupid sweatshirt today?" was really not the way I had planned to start my day yesterday. I wish I had never met him.

Slightly Mad

Do you ever feel slightly insane? Like, if one more thing happens you're just going to snap?

That would be me, today, at this very moment. Life maddens me to the point that I think I'm just going to run away and never come back.

They say parenting is the best job in the world. I beg to differ!! Obviously 'they' have never been fortunate enough to be parents to my kids. Between the constant fighting and screaming there is always the utter destruction to anything that comes their way. Just yesterday I went outside to find that my entire jeep is encircled with a continuous ring of scratches. Through my disbelief and tears I find that Thomas had taken match box cars and drove them on the paint.

Even now, as I sit here typing this, I can hear Thomas outside crying and yelling at Zachary. Apparently Zachary has taken Thomas's pudding, pudding which I had firmly told him he was not allowed to have, pudding which he snuck outside anyway against my wishes. Zachary, naturally, is being a brute and a bully. I really can't wait for the day that Thomas catches up to him and beats his ass into the ground. Yes, I know, that is one of the most horrible things a Mom could say, but I can't help it, he deserves to feel the same wrath he dishes out.

And this sadness that I feel, I just wish it would go away. I just can't seem to make it stop. Always something, something I can't control, happening to make things more difficult. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't feel so overwhelmed. A person should not feel this way, the weight of the world should not rest entirely on the shoulders of one individual.

At work I'm expected to fight all the battles. Constantly I listen as the girls bicker and talk about each other behind their backs, watch and judge for myself as to what the real situation is. And then there are the work related issues, the issues that are all about what my real job is. The job they pay me for. Manage production, present successes and action plans for failures, ensure the tasks that are expected of my areas are completed on a day to day basis, no matter what the challenge. A completely thankless job.

At home I'm invisible. I'm out numbered and completely invisible. Nobody listens to me as I tell them to pick up after themselves. Why should they? They know in the end I can't stand to live in filth, I will clean up their paper plates and food splatter they leave all over the counter. I will pick up the piles of dirty laundry they leave all over the living room and kitchen. Even if I do completely lose my patience and force them to clean it is such a half assed job I become irate and scream and cry.

Definitely not the way I want my family to see me, screaming and crying is never a solution. It makes you appear weak, it makes you appear worthless.

I feel like I'm the only person in this world who knows that I am not worthless.

There must be a line drawn in the sand somewhere when it comes to what is expected from your coworkers.....

I'm talking with Ruthie at her desk as I wait for one of the purchasers to get off the phone.

Ruthie walks over to the fridge and pulls out a Code Red Mt. Dew, arm outstretched in my direction. "Will you open this for me hun?" she says. I know she is ailing and elderly, it doesn't even cross my mind as an option, of course I'm going to open it.

Pssssssssssssss....... (pop spraying everywhere as I twist off the top)

My eyes are burning and I'm unable to stop laughing. Wiping pop from my face I say to Ruthie, "I'm not going to do things for you anymore if you don't start being nice to me." We are laughing our heads off, loudly, in an almost silent bull pen. I'm covered in sticky liquid from head to toe.

"Oh My God hun, I'm so sorry," tears are streaming down her cheeks from laughter.


Hope you're all having a happy Friday! As you can see, I sure am!!