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October 1, 2003
Well, here it is the first of the month already and I have ONLY JUST BEGUN to go through my neighbors mail. I'm working to get his mail forwarded to me in order to make the whole process easier.
entry # 1,926
October is here. That can only mean one thing: PUMPKIN LOVE!
(DISCLAIMER: Even we, the writers of TDJ are totally "weirded out" by this poem. We don't pretend to understand what it means, nor do we wish to. Sometimes, life is better that way.)
entry # 1,926
There's a feeling in the air. People are looking now, in expectation. Grandmothers are giving birth like never before. The time is right. The time is now. It's time for a Kenny Rogers comeback!
entry # 1,927
Just when I think I have the worst job in the world, I find out what my cousin is up to these days: "You know those seals that play Yankee Doodle on bicycle horns at the circus? I give sponge baths to the dirty hobo that mucks out their cages."
entry # 1,928
“Take it away,” she gasped in horror.
Continually athletic Jane thought that today was going to be a day like any others. Go to work at a large corporation as part of their “Health and Fitness” department, and install ergonomically designed furniture in the tiny cubicles of it’s employees. Today she was overseeing the installation of a keyboard tray, which meant removing the pencil and pen tray from the desk and replacing it with this $750 piece of professionally designed plastic. However, as she opened the drawer to remove it, therein lay a single Hersheys Chocolate Bar. With almonds. King Size. The sheet wickedness of it was too much for her to bear and she ran screaming down the aisle.
entry # 1,929
More from the file of things I wrote years ago, completely forgot about, found then in 2003 and now wonder where all my talent went:
He sat rather rigidly, looking furtively to his left, facing straight ahead into his monitor. It appeared that the woman beside him, across the aisle of fading blue carpet squares, was biting the erasers off each of her pencils, spitting them into the wastebasket next to her desk as if they were live grub worms. She had been at this task for nearly twenty-four minutes without a break, her entire being focused and consumed by this inhuman task. She neither looked around herself nor did she appear concerned that anyone would think her actions were out of the norm. "Where is she getting all these pencils???" David asked himself. Using the clock on his computer, he had determined that it took approximately nine seconds for her to deftly remove each eraser, David having timed the length between each muffled "Ptah" as she spit the tiny nub discretely beside her. Bringing up a blank spreadsheet page, David figured that at this rate she had decapitated over 160 pencils! His mind overtaken with this concept, projecting the time it would to complete a gross of grosses and how many pencils could be thus humiliated in an average female life of 78.4 years, he failed to notice that she had stopped her fiendish actions had looked up at him. He also failed to notice that she was standing behind him.
"168, to be exact. Fourteen dozen." David tried desperately to compose himself as her smooth, warm voice so close to his unknowing ear had caused him to jump. She stood up, looking him in the eye through his reflection on the computer monitor just a bit too long for his comfort, her eyes showing that she was somewhat amused, but only somewhat. The realization that he had been "caught" slowly crept into his cheeks. She then turned quickly and walked away towards the cafeteria, David still watching her via the reflective black surface of his monitor.
She was new to this unit.
entry # 1,930
My employer, or at least my immediate manager, has finally cracked down hard on internet and phone use. I'm alotted "reasonable" time on both, which means I now check my personal e-mail twice a day instead of every 17.2 seconds. Phone calls in and out are also groovy but they should be brief, non-copious, and adhere to discussions on mollusks.
entry # 1,931
If you can't squeeze the food in front of you so that it exudes it's own steamy gravy, it's probably not worth eating--or squeezing, for that matter.
entry # 1,932
entry # 1,933
I'd gladly lend you my bolt cutter but it's on permanent loan to the Smithsonian.
entry # 1,934
Baked pumpkin seeds: It’s like swallowing an entire bottle of exfoliant for your intestines.
entry # 1,935
I just smurfed to Rogersmurf about smurfing down to the Smurfs-a-Lot to smurf some smurf. However his smurf was smurfed due to a recent smurfala smurfdom.
entry # 1,936
In addition to monitoring internet and phone usage, management has just installed sensors on our chairs that record how long we are out of our seats, milling aimlessly around the office in the eternal quest to be entertained. If this goes on much long I'm going to have to hire a clown to make balloon animals.
entry # 1,937
Just to play with the minds of our neighbors to the north, I think the US should issue a "Canada" version of one of our State Coins.
entry # 1,938
I've asked my plastic surgeon to surgically move all of the glands in my body to a newly created fatty protrusion just above my eyebrows. I plan to call it my "supergland" and hope that my DNA genetically mutates it so that I can pass it on to my children.
entry # 1,939
October 16, 2003
There's just nothing quite like receiving a data-base driven computer-generated birthday greeting e-mail message from a Star Trek Website that I visited back in July of 1996.
entry # 1,940
October 17, 2003
When I was a kid I couldn't wait to be a grown up and eat all the raw cookie dough I wanted, to stay up late watching horror movies, and to eat an entire frozen pizza in one sitting. Now that I'm approaching geezer-hood I realize that I've yet to do any of these things... UNTIL TONIGHT!!!
entry # 1,941
October 18, 2003
My church is finally giving in to modern trends by allowing instruments other than piano, organ, and flute into it's sacred walls. I can hardly wait for service tomorrow when Brother Armpit will play a lovely hymn on his waxpaper comb for the edification of us all.
entry # 1,942
October 19, 2003
After 1,942 entries in this here journal we've exhausted all the good subjects. Work, school, home, church, family, relationships, woodland creatures, meat and meat derivatives... all covered ad infinitum. Except one taboo subject that was previously banned from ever being mentioned. I know Roger will want me to edit this entry but I refuse! No, my love of baby corn shall not be denied! That's right! Gasp if you will, you old ladies. I said it and I'll say it again: BABY CORN, BABY CORN, BABY CORN!!!!!
entry # 1,943
October 20, 2003
My grandpa was full of wisdom, widely regarded by the townsfolk. But somewhere along the way his fine mind snapped like a brittle January twig although no one seemed to notice and his advice continued to be sought. This always makes Christmas fun when we travel back home to the recently renamed town of "Bulk Sausage" to celebrate turnpikes by giving each other gifts of steaming asphalt and flattened woodland creatures. I won't even go into what we do for Columbus day.
entry # 1,944
October 21, 2003
I had no idea back when I was hired, that I would one day be given the task, the opportunity, mind you, to manually file an entire drawer full of binary digits in numeric order.
entry # 1,945
October 22, 2003
Lots of people ask me how I cope with the pressure of my job. Contrary to popular belief, taxidermy isn't that stressful an occupation. And the company potluck lunches are full of surprises.
entry # 1,946
October 23, 2003
Upon returning from a recent trip that involved some shopping with my wife at INDIANA'S LARGEST MALL (insert oohs and aahs here), I ponder some of life's most meaningful questions: How long can a man maintain his sanity inside a Yankee Candle store? Why do only the Chinese restaurants in the food court offer free samples? And where did Abercrombie & Fitch get all of those posters of me with my clothes off?
entry # 1,947
October 24, 2003
The only thing more embarassing than accidentally filling up your car with diesel fuel at the gas station is accidentally filling up your grandmother with diesel fuel at the gas station. Live and learn, I guess.
entry # 1,948
There seems to be quite a bit of debate over which mall can claim the title of “Biggest Mall in Indiana.” I guess it depends if you go by square footage, number of shops, enclosed or not, or number of prairie dogs executed per day. However there is a rather large consensus that spending tens of millions of dollars to achieve the lowly title of “Biggest Mall in Indiana” is pretty pathetic
entry # 1,949
October 26, 2003
Part-timer C. Noyes steps up to the plate: The best thing about being a backup singer is that you don't have to sing in complete sentences.
entry # 1,950
October 27, 2003
I know the muffin man but we are more aquaintences than friends. I mean, it’s not like I would feel comfortable asking him for a free muffin or anything.
entry # 1,951
October 28, 2003
I'm currently working on my masters thesis on the connection between hand puppetry and proctology.
entry # 1,952
October 29, 2003
I wish that I could tell you that I wasn't the one who broke into that KFC to steal all the wet-naps but that would be lying and lying is wrong. But not as wrong as going about life with a face full of BBQ sauce.
entry # 1,953
October 30, 2003
I'm wanting to dress up as Merv Griffin for Halloween but I can't get the hair right. Oh Aqua Net... where is thy sting?
entry # 1,954
October 31, 2003
The monsters in my county have decided to unionize so they have greater leveraging power when it comes to securing better rates for health insurance but, as you might expect from a TDJ entry, there are problems. The vampires, zombies and ghosts are technically dead and not covered by most PPOs. Frankenstein's monster, while previously dead and now reanimated by a juicy bolt of lightening may or may not be covered (the item is up for review by the PPO board). Trolls and goblins are covered but the festering boils are considered pre-existing conditions, as are the chronic hallitosis and ingrown toenails, and will not be covered. Most of the werewolves have existing coverage under their human forms and think that they should receive reduced rates as they only need insurance two or three nights out of the month. Fairies and gnomes want in but every time they send an ambassador to the group he is eaten by the lawyers, who, incidentally, will receive full covereage under the proposed plan.
entry # 1,955
(and now....secret messages)
I found the "Pumpkin Love" poem by actually performing a search on Google for "Pumpkin Love". That has to make me guilty of something.
Butter Baked Beans!