2002-12-26

Oh dear GOD, I’m so fucking bored I could eat my face. Why am I even here? This place is a fucking ghost town. I swear I just saw a tumbleweed drift across the hallway, and I’m thinking of installing swinging doors on my cubicle, changing my name to “Miss Kitty” and renting my sweet ass out to passing gunslingers just to liven things up a little.

I watched The Remains of the Day last night, and inspired by Sir Anthony’s character, I’ve become convinced that there is NO conversation that can’t be satisfactorily concluded with some combination of the phrases “Indeed”, “Quite so”, and “Very good”. They are all-purpose. That’s all I’m saying to people from now on if I don’t want to talk to them, which is often the case here since I’m surrounded by howling mongoloids; and “Quite so” beats the shit out of “Suck my dick, you fucking dick-sucking dick sucker!” when it comes to not getting fired, I’ll tell ya THAT for free. Observe:

“Hey Robin, get working on that briefing note! It needs to be in the Minister’s office by three.”
“Very good.”

“Hey Robin, I don’t like your amendments to this letter. I think it needs more of a ‘chummy’ feel to it. Don’t you think? Dumb it down a little, right?”
“Indeed.”

“Listen up, fruitcake! If anyone asks you if you’ve seen a dead squirrel lying around here someplace, you don’t know NOTHING! You got that? Hey fruitcake?”
“Quite so.”

See? They work in ANY SITUATION AT ALL.