This Dude Named Dale At Work. Twizzler Ritual. Tastykake Pie Packaging.

A letter to this dude at work and his Twizzler eating ritual. His name is - get this - DALE.

Dale,

On behalf of everyone your Twizzler eating ritual has to stop. It's bad enough that you walk around with a coffee stirrer hanging out of your mouth trying to look like a badass but the Twizzler thing must stop.And by the way stop walking around with your chest out like you're a muscle guy. You're a fat guy. And on that note do you know that your protruding belly button can be seen through TWO shirts?? TWO!! Like a pregnant lady!

OK back to the Twizzlers. Here's what you do. You get one Twizzler then you dangle it in your mouth for about a minute. Then you chomp it in the way a horse would and chew a bit then chomp some more in. If you saw yourself on film you might stop. But I doubt it. Kids do this!

And on other food related news do you really have to bring a full Thanksgiving sized meal into lunch everyday? Keeping the fridge loaded up with all of your TV dinners and microwaveable meals? Then you make a production out of the meal. Pulling out bags of salad, salad dressing, baggies of cheese, side dishes in tupperware, applesauce and snack pack puddings, spices, tastykakes for dessert... ENOUGH!

And the way you eat? I'm happy  - and surprised actually - that you keep your mouth shut but what the hell is going on with your lips when you chew? You look like a camel! LOOK IN THE MIRROR! It's gross! And you examine the food. Then every bite you take in slowly. I can tell you're enjoying it. Savoring.

You're obsessed with food.. Every time somebody is pulling their lunch out of the fridge you curiously look over. Extending your neck. The mice running on the wheel in your pee brain running as hard as they can trying to figure out what they're about to eat. Like a dog. It's killing you that you don't know so you then casually say, "Eh? ...So whatcha got there?" Also weird and creepy. Then you make a comment about the food and tell the person what you're preparing. Nobody cares Dale.

And finally, remember when I was eating a Tastykake cherry pie and you gave a five minute dissertation about how the new packaging for the pies is a rip off because "the pie packaging is heavier but the total weight of the product is the same so we're getting ripped off?" and it was probably "some big wigs*" idea?

Did you notice how I wasn't paying attention? Well take a hint.

*Who says "big wig?"

I Miss Ruining People's Calendars. Damn You Technology! Sphincter Tickling.

Have you all noticed how people use less wall calendars these days. Probably because of technology. And I miss it! Because I used to love going to a friend's house or into a coworker's office, page ahead a few months and write in random appointments, "things to do" or holidays on various days. The key is to try and match the person's hand writing closely so they don't notice it right away. I would write things like:

- Fart on an old person.

- Stock up on creamed corn. DON'T FORGET COUPONS!

- Fourth of July True Observance (written on a day in November).

- Cure Cancer.

- Finish The Love Boat Musical.

- Narrow list of calendar choices down to at least 75. DON'T WAIT TILL OCTOBER THIS YEAR!!!

- (Written on a Saturday in coworker's calendar) Rent U-haul to FINALLY bring home the motherload of paper clips I've been hiding. Bring chloroform for guards.

- Tickle sphincter with the feather of a peacock (ask Uncle Hank to capture event with charcoal sketch).

I also do this when I see a person's grocery list. Give it a try. Tell me how it goes.

Tuna Hoagie Incident. TRUE STORY. The Old Switcharoo.

Wait till you hear this. Do you see that sandwich above? It's the tasty Bobbie from Capriotti's Sandwich Shop in Exton. Roasted turkey with stuffing and cranberry sauce. Trust me. It's really good.

So here's what happened. I had one the other day and since I'm not a pig I ate one half and saved the other half to bring to work. Next day I bring it to work and put it in the work fridge. Lunchtime comes and I eagerly reach into the fridge, pull out the hoagie and open it. Anticipation.

What?? What the?? Who replaced my Bobbie with a tuna hoagie?! God damn it! Someone at my house must have eaten my Bobbie or moved it and I accidently grabbed my son's tuna hoagie from my home fridge and brought it in! And I open up the tuna hoagie and guess what is covering the tuna? Jalapenos! Who the F covers their tuna hoagie with jalapeno? And the jalapeno's were carefully placed on the sandwich as if when my son ordered it he instructed the sandwich artist to line the jalapeno's up perfectly. And it it was a Subway sandwich too. Maybe it was Jared's stupid idea. And I hate Subway.

Well I'm hungry so I decide to eat it. Not THAT bad. But halfway through I get grossed out because what if it's a few days old? Or my son left it in the car for a while? I've got this fear about eating old or gross fish. So after a few bites I just chuck the thing in the trash.

A few hours pass and a light bulb goes off over my head. Could it be? No. Well I better go check. I go to the work fridge, reach in and pull out a bag that's been pushed to the very back. I open it and see the red stain of cranberry coming through the paper. I didn't eat my son's sandwich I hate a fellow employee's sandwich!! WHAAAA?!

Then I was all paranoid they were going to try and track down who did it. As if I just opened the fridge and said, "I wonder what I should eat today? Oh. A tuna hoagie. That should do the job."  I'm just glad the tuna hoagie owner didn't see me eating it. How do you get out of that one?

The next day I was telling a friend about what happened and we were laughing so hard that later I made up this fake sign and told her it was taped to the work fridge and I emailed it to her.

"Please DO NOT throw out or eat food that is not yours. If your unsure if it is yours please ask! Thanks."

After we had a good laugh I told her I wrote it. Then we laughed even harder. Note the spelling error I added to the note (ie: "yours").

I love this note because it makes it as though the person who had their sandwich eaten thinks people are so dumb that they might forget what they actually brought in for lunch therefore have to "ask around" to double check. "Hmm. Did I bring a peanut butter sandwich, a yogurt or a chicken pot pie? I forget."

Busted At Work For Doing Nothing. I Swear. Compact Mirrors.

Yeah so I'm at work and I asked one of my female coworkers if they had a mirror because I had this tiny area of dry skin on my face earlier and wanted to see if it was still there. She hands me a one of those compacts and says, "You can keep it."

And I put it in my desk drawer. So then the other day I had an everything bagel and I take out the compact and look in it to see if I had any poppy seed (the A-hole of all seeds) in my teeth and just then this chick walks by and looked over at me.

And with the look she gave me I'm like, "Oh no! She thinks I was powerdering my nose because I was using a compact!"

I'm sure she went and told everyone that I wear makeup. Fuckin' bitch!

I was going to track her down and tell her but then thought it would be weird if I brought the subject up, "Listen. Just so you know - I...I DON'T wear makeup. I'm a dude. Not a chick. So uh....are we clear with that?"

Maybe I should just drop it. Well..I guess I COULD have her killed..Naaa. I'll just drop it.

Messing With The Lunch Of A Jerk. Revenge.

I’m not saying this story is true.

But I’m also not saying it’s false.

But suppose I used to work with someone. And this person was a a-hole. Like in meetings she would just snap at not just me – but at everyone. You know the type. Just a big jerk and a bully. Accusing everyone of false things, not being a team player, narcing people out.

So suppose then I realized that she always brought her lunch in a red cooler. So one day I crushed the chips.

And she went all bat shit telling everyone that her chips were crushed. Everyone acted shocked but was secretly happy.

Then a week later I dropped staples and crinkled post-its in the cooler. And a few weeks later I took a single bite out of the sandwich.

Do my alleged deeds even things up? Probably.

Shut Up About Your Cruise! I Don't Care! Boring People.

There’s nothing I can’t stand more than a bore ass. People just yappin’ about stuff that isn’t remotely interesting or funny. And giving every mundane detail. Going on and on.

Like this chick I used to work with would go on a cruise every year and when she came back she would tell me every boring detail. She’d start off like, “OK, so we get there Monday. And usually we like to check in and get right to the bar, but it was really crowded so we decided, ‘What he hell’, lets sneak in a drink across the street…”

But saying it in a way like “Aren’t we crazy?” And trust me. Nothing interesting happened across the street but the margarita’s were sooooooo good.

Then she would proceed to go day by day and tell me every boring detail. I’d sit there nodding (because I’m a nice guy – plus I was trapped in her office). Sometimes when you thought your sentence was almost over she’d remember something “important” in the story and have to go back, “So we wake up on Thursday and then and I wanted to get to that buffet so….Oh wait! I forgot to tell you about the illusionist we saw Wednesday night*!!!”

I was always happy when she was done and even happier when I’d see her corning someone else in the hall or in the coffee room. And you’d see the same glazed over look in their eyes as she excitedly told them the exact story. Word for word, “We met this couple named Peggy and Mike. They were sooooo funny. We’re going to keep in touch. Mike was a RIOT!” I'd give the person a look behind her back like, "Hmmm you don't say.."

So basically what I’m trying to say is: if you’re boring, please shut the fuck up.

(And look at that fat fuck in the blue at the buffet table. Jesus Christ Tubby. Leave some food for the rest of us!)

*can he make me disappear

The Time The Toilet Overflowed At Work. Nooo!!

I remember just starting my first corporate job. I had been there a few weeks and I’m standing there finishing up at the urinal, I flush it and then the unthinkable happens.

It started to overflow.

And I don’t mean a little either. It was like a pipe had burst. Water was just pouring out. At the rate of like a gallon every three seconds.

And it’s loud too! The water hitting the tile floor in this huge corporate bathroom was even making an echo. So I just calmly walked out of the bathroom. Quickly. Trying to look innocent as I walked out. Fleeing the scene of the crime.

I return to my desk and was going to call maintenance but thought that the story would change from “the new guy flushed the urinal and the pipe broke” to “That new guy apparently thinks our bathrooms are some sort of playground or something. He clogged one of the toilets.” Someone else would chime in, “The bastard probably used too much toilet paper! Doesn’t HR do background checks anymore? Jesus Christ!”

So I returned to by cube and sat down knowing that a disaster was happening. Gallons of water flooding the Men’s Room. Then I hear someone at the copier which is right by the Men’s Room. After a few copies are made I hear, “OH MY GOD! Somebody call maintenance. There’s a flood!” Her look was probably one of horror as she dropped her papers.

Next I hear maintenance opening up the door after breaking through the crowd. OK. There were only a few people there but still. I pictured a wave of water piling out like the scene from The Shining where the blood comes rushing down the hall. And I picture the water flooding the area outside of the Men’s Room. Fish flopping all over the floor. Random seaweed and six pack plastic thingies littering the walls.

Then I was on edge all day thinking they were going to catch me:

Marketing Dude: Hey Jim do you have the product info for…

Me: There’s no way you’re going to pin this on me Pal! You can’t PROVE anything. Can you?..Oh….what?

Or:

Advertising Dude: Jim are you finished looking at the copy for…

Me: What? Cause I guy pees it means he BROKE a urinal? What is this? The god damn Nuremburg trials? ..wait….what?

Bottom line is that nobody ever found out it was me. So don’t go narcin’ me out. Got it?

The Time I Was Trying To Be Smooth But Something Went Terribly Wrong. Sunglasses.

I was just telling a coworker a story that happened years ago but I had forgotten.

Our regular receptionist at work was out for a few weeks so they brought a temp in to take her place. She was an older lady. But after about a week I came in back from lunch and as I’m pulling the door open I see a really hot girl sitting at the receptionist desk. Ooh. Who is this fine specimen?

So of course I slowly take off my sunglasses and saunter by the desk. A little extra shake of the ass. I deepen my voice a bit and say, “ How you doing? You’re new here?” (Shut up. That’s all I could think of on short notice. Plus it was hot out.)

“Yeah. Well I’m just filling in. I’m not sure how many days I’ll be here.”

“OK. Well welcome to (the name of my company inserted here). I’m Dr Zibbs.”

“Well nice to meet you Dr Zibbs. I’m Cindy.”

“OK Cindy, well I’ll see you later.”

I then walk down the hall toward my desk. Thinking I’m all smooth. And as I’m walking there’s something in my peripheral vision on my right side. What is that? I reach up and there’s a black rubber oval on the side of my face – below my eye. What the F???

When I took my sunglasses off the rubber piece of my sunglasses that goes against your nose came off of the sunglasses and was stuck on my face. AND IT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME!

I pictured this happening later, “Cindy did you see Dr Zibbs walk by here?”

“Dr Zibbs? Who is…Oh Dr Zibbs. The guy with the huge mole on the side of his nose? No I haven't seen him.”

How I Used To Torture People With Secret Santa. Brooke Shields.

Does anyone do the Secret Santa at work? We used to do it and I would love to torture people with it.

I would torture people because there were a few women in the department that would practically break into tears when their present would get stolen. As if they couldn't just go out and spend $15 on the bottle of wine that was just taken from them.

So every time a really good gift was revealed and one of the crybabies got it, we would pressure the next person to take it away, "Come on Jill. You HAVE to take that bottle of wine...Come on...do it! Do you know how good that wine is?..The next present could be junk!"

One year my gift was a little thing I liked to call,"Things From My Garage". It was a wrinkled, brown paper bag full of various things like nails, sandpaper, etc. Basically....things from my garage.

Most of the women were like, "Come on! You can’t do that! That's not fair!" But I'd say, "Sure it is, have you priced nails and sandpaper lately? They're very expensive. May I suggest re-gifting it to perhaps a brother or Uncle that is handy?"

At the end of everything I did reveal that there was cash hidden in at the bottom of the box. I forget if it was $40 or $50 but it was way more than the limit that was supposed to be used for gifts. You should have seen the look some of the faces. Oh the regret.

Another year, knowing that one woman in the department had an obsession with Brooke Shields, I put a few random things in the box including a book about Brooke Shields and I forged a signature. I even went online and copied the Brook Shields signature because the woman in the department actually owned things that had Brooke's autograph on it. But the funny thing is that she didn't know I knew about her obsession because she was embarrassed about it so it was supposed to be this big secret. But everyone knew.

So my present gets picked and the person is going through the random things and says, "A Brooke Shield's book? That's weird."

Everyone is kind of rolling their eyes and I say, "Look inside. It's autographed."

Well the Brooke Shields fan's eyes light up and she's like,"Can I see that?" But she's trying to play it cool. She looks at the autograph and it's obvious on her face that
"this thing is real!" Like shes an antiques roadshow expert or something. She looks around to play it cool in the way someone would flip through a book and
find $500 hidden in it. You know what Ann? It’s friggin’ Brooke Shields. Nobody cares.

Well she finally ends up with the Zibbs Potpouri box. All excited and shit. I did feel kind of bad so at the end of the whole thing I told her it was a fake autograph. You know, so she didn't try and get it valued and find out it was worthless. As if the real thing would be worth anything anyway. Right? Right?

I Can't Stop Laughing! Phantom of the Opera Mask.

OK. I had one of those can not stop laughing but am about to explode like when I wasn't allowed to laugh in church moments early yesterday morning. You know, when you're dying to totally crack up but you can't?

And I blame my Twitter friend @Trilee33. She's hysterical and seriously could be a comedy writer. Her tweets make me laugh so hard. She's of the funniest people I follow - including professional comedians.

Here's how it got to the point of me sitting at my desk and losing control and then trying as hard as I could not to laugh as my shoulders were shaking up and down:

My Tweet: I wonder if I walked into Wawa and started singing The Rose if people would gather round - some kneeling - or if they would just kick me out?

Her Tweet: Cool...I'm trying Phantom of the Opera at Stop n Shop, Foxboro. Will use a boneless chicken breast as the horrifying facial mask.

Well just the visual of using a boneless chicken breast on her face almost had me bursting into laughter. But I contained it.

My Tweet: You should start the performance by very slowly peaking into the window...the normal part of your face showing first. "Oh look...
...it's just a normal looking person looking in at us....OH MY GOD!!!!!!"

She tells me she just spit out her coffee and I tell her I can't stop laughing at the site of her slowly emerging into view with a makeshift boneless chicken breast on her face that's supposed to look like a Phantom of the Opera mask (revealing herself the way Noblet does on Strangers with Candy when he peaks into a classroom)

My Tweet: The "OH MY GOD" screams coming when they see your horribly disfigured boneless chicken face. (An old lady faints at the sight)

She tweets: I just spit out my coffee (old lady fainting)...

Now I'm dying laughing. So I have to control myself and I take a few minutes to do something else.

She then says that the boneless chicken breast has to be fastened to the face with twine. All I can think of is a mangled mess of chicken. Scary music playing as she tries to cut the eyehole out with kitchen shears but then the eyehole is too big so she has to use the twine to hold it together.

And the twine is also used to wrap around the back of the head to hold it in place. But it slips down so she has to keep it in place by wearing a hat. HAHAHA!

OK. I'm cracking up again just thinking about this.

So after this, I'm completely trying to hold it together when I see there's an email from her. I'm so about to burst that the sight of seeing that "1 new message" icon even put me back into shoulders shaking trying to conceal my laughter mode that I had to close down my email.

Well, maybe you had to be there but it was the most I've laughed in weeks.

Kind of celebrating here because of several job offers that came in to me. One of which I will be taking.

Now I'd like you...the reader (and my fwend) to celebrate with me. Don't be embarrassed. Fill a plastic glass with Mountain Dew and PRETEND it's champagne in a fine, cut crystal. I won't judge you.

COME ON! We've earned it.

Looking At People In Meetings More Than The General Population.

I was in a meeting earlier and as usual, I look at people throughout the course of the meeting.

Look at his socks. They're blue but he has black shoes on.

She's tired because she was at the shore.

Nice toenail polish.

His hair is weird.

Throughout the course of the meeting I do this. And I notice that some people hardly look around at all.

And it makes me think that I'm probably in the highest percentile of people that look around at other people - (number of looks per minute). Whether it's in a meeting, at a restaurant or wherever. It's not like I'm staring but I just need to take a quick glance. Then I move onto the next person. Or back to my pen. But if there's something interesting about the person I will "go back for seconds".

I wish I could see myself on videotape to see if I look like a total weirdo or if I look normal. Because I just look for a second. Maybe other people are doing the same thing but I don't think as much. Because I would catch them. You know...cause I'm always looking and everything.

Once in while though something weird will happen. I'll be at a restaurant or somewhere and I'll look at someone and they'll be looking at me. Then...I HAVE to look again to see if they're looking at me AGAIN*. And if they are, then I have to do everything in my power NOT to look at them even though I want to. I can do it for like five minutes then I'm about to burst so I take a quick peak. If they ARE looking again, then I get all paranoid. Unless I can convince myself that they were checking me out.

Does anyone else do this?

*this happened to me in 9th grade and I was looking at some huge football upperclassman and he finally yelled across the cafeteria, "YOU GOT A PROBLEM?". (I said "No")

Wizard of Oz Mayor Meinhardt Raabe Dies. He Was So Young!

It's true. The Wizard of Oz munchkin mayor has died. The little guy was only 94.

I actually met him at a trade show a few years ago. Did we talk mayoral politics, tiny curly shoes or infighting amongst members of the Lollipop Guild? No. There was really no time for that. But in our short, historic meeting I can tell you that he was a nice guy.

R.I.P . Munchkin Meinhardt Raabe.

Thanks Mr Tie Maker For Pulling The Switcheroo On Me. Exton Boscovs.

So I'm at the Exton Mall yesterday at lunch and I stop in Boscov's. I don't know why Boscov's because I really don't like that store.

So I'm walking by the men's department and I see a table full of ties. It says, "Ties: $9.99 - usually $59.99". And they were really nice ties. Not like the really wide ones or the ones with a tiger peaking out from behind some leaves like you guys wear. That's fine..you guys don't know the difference. But for me? That won't do.

So I picked up this one tie - a very conservative yellow tie with some mixed blue squares in it. Classy, like me.

I buy the tie (thinking to myself, "suckers")and when I put it on this morning, the thin portion of the tie has the words, "Dressed to Kill*" printed all over it. I'm all, "Whaaaa???"

Now you can't see the words because it's the thin part of the tie that's hidden by the wide part but what if like I'm walking down the lane one day and like a freak wind comes and undoes the thin part of the tie that's tucked safely behind the wide part of the tie? Then what? And if someone sees the "dressed to kill" words they're probably going to think that I think I'm trying to be Don Johnson or something.

I think I may have to return it OR keep it but it'll be OUR secret. Please..no narcing.

*If I were one of those douchebag guys I'd get a tie clip and attach it to the lower portion of the tie so a tiny bit of the "dressed to kill" words extended outward. Creating a huge trend.

People That Tell "Standard" Jokes And My Facial Reaction. Stone Faced.

Everyone knows the type. The guy that says, "I got one for you". Then he goes on to tell one of those "three guys walk into a bar" jokes. And you can tell he's rehearsed it before - all confident in his delivery.

I had an older cousin that did this growing up. And I always hated it. The jokes are rarely funny. Whenever they say, "I got one for you", I just get uncomfortable because I know I'm not going to think it's funny. And if you're in a crowd, everyone is expecting you to laugh. I just stand there with this look on my face that says, "I don't want to be here".

It's one thing I can't do. I can't fake laughing at something when it's something that's not funny at all. I can't even force myself. It's not out of jealously like I wish I were the one making everyone laugh, it's just this thing I have against people that are trying really hard to be funny. They're giving it everything they got and what they're saying is just stupid. But they think they're funny.

I used to work with this girl that some people thought was hysterical, and a few of us - the ones with a sense of humor - couldn't stand her stories. She would tell these stories, most of which were exaggerated bullshit, and she'd be laughing when she told them - which would get some people laughing. Then, she'd throw in the worst accents to liven up the story. For some reason it was always a terrible French or English accent. As if there was always a foreigner around when she apparently got into these crazy predicaments.

And people would guffaw over these stories that weren't even funny. So after one of the meetings where one of these stories was told, I was walking down the hall with two of my coworkers (that have a sense of humor) and the one said, "Here's an imitation of your face when that story was being told".

The expression was one of someone at a funeral. With an occasional, uncomfortable smile, as if the priest just said something to lighten the mood. Since then I became aware of this face. But there's still nothing I can do to stop it.