I HEAR LESBIANS

I've noticed that the herd of Lesbians (I've heard of Lesbians)that I work with had started to call me Tony. At first I paid no attention, then assumed it was because “all men look alike.” But after awhile I noticed they would say “Hi tony!” Snicker, snicker.
“OK, why are y’all calling me Tony?”
I was told it’s because every time someone at work asks me how I’m doing I respond,
“I’m Gggggggreat!!!!!!”

Hence, Tony. As in Tony the Tiger. Lesbians are so witty.
Yeah! Hence.


I was asked by the head lesbian if I could help put up “holiday" decorations. Not Christmas, holiday. Happy bunnies and snowmen, we refer to them as Snow people.”

As I stood to hang a gender neutral snow person. I slipped and ended up jumping onto her desk. She asked if I was okay and I responded,
“Sorry, but what do you expect I’ve got this big head and these little arms!
Get it?
Tiny the Dinosaur?
No?
He’s a Dinosaur?
T-rex, with little arms?
A big head?
Raaaaarrow?
Tiny arms........no?

Raaaaaarow.....



I then just quietly walked back to my cube.

The League Of Lesbians

The Lesbians are swarming today. This time it’s about fact that they’re going to die due to co-workers with the sniffles, and winter, and… well pretty much everything today.
The temperature dropped in Denver last night, so imagine that ice formed on the steps outside. The Vegan “almost died” by slipping in her sensible shoes. They huddled together talking about how it was probably a man that chose to not put salt on the icy sidewalk. She then moved on to winter, and how it’s dried out her skin so much that she keeps needing to slather her pasty skin with lotion. Reminding me of Cassandra O'Brien Dot Delta Seventeen.

Meanwhile the Lesbian Lysol Lecture continues on how Lysol must be reapplied like straight girls reapply lipstick. If not, we’re all going to get the flu. “Why wouldn’t you get a flu shot Steve?”
I was asked yesterday, like I had drug a dead cat into the office to use as a Rolodex.
“If not to keep yourself healthy, than your office mates.”
Wow, who knew I was putting the league of lesbians at risk for the rhinovirus? She cocked her head and walked away as I responded that I was immortal, and human illness cannot pass through my metal skin. If ya don’t have an answer, confuse the hell out of them. That’s what I always say.

Lesbians and the land of Cubicals

So at my job I sit in a sea of cubicles, all day surrounded by Lesbians. Hordes of them, herds of them. Swarming around like politically minded, well dressed wolves. They approach and rattle off stuff like
“Did you see that sub-committee for the legislator just cut funding of the Glenn-Beck finance bill by 4.793495959595% like that’s going to fly.”
“Uh…..yes? I have 19” arms.”

It is kinda nice to be a minority, me being the only male and yet being a Moe. As they discuss Golf I can just space out and start to think of fun things I want to buy, and no one thinks less of me. Today the Alfa, We call her Diana Shore, came to let me know that the “group” is supporting two families for Thanksgiving. I asked
“do you want me to bake a pie?” I guess this shows weakness in the Lesbian community. Because, she let me know that she did not want me to bake anything…. Ever. This must be a Sappho euphemism, I later wrote a sticky note,(Don't talk about pie!)

This is clearly forced volunteerism. They are helping the homeless or “challenged” members of our tribe and I’m coming along, with cans of green beans. So look at me, I’m all civic minded. I’m sure soon I’ll get to blog about putting up the Hanukkah-Kwanza-winter solstices Non-religious holiday decorations.

The Black Death

I came into the office today to run smack into a co-worker yielding a can of Lysol like a Katana.
“Are you sick?” she asked, I inquired if she was referring to my physical, spiritual or mental well being. That in any case Lysol will not help the voices in my head telling me to kill all humans. She informed me that “everyone” was sick and they weren’t going to get her.
“Nice, Howard Hughes.”
“What? Does that old playboy bunny guy not like to get sick? How can he help it with all those blonds around?” She started to explain to me that everyone but her where plague carriers and they she can not get sick.
“I’ve got a car payment.”
She had been going around spraying everything with Lysol. It’s only October and she’s beginning to act like a Lysol wielding Church of England in 1665. I then suggested that we might want to burn their cubicles to the ground in a scorched earth policy to stop the Black Death. She turned on her heels to go get matches. My coffee tastes Lysoly.