There's got to be an easior way to not make money.
Page 33 of 50
It was Securrity Twine, and had this tiny combinnation lock in the center. It looked exactley like a bicycle lock exept it was much thinner, cause it was designed speifically to keep EXPENSIVE LAPTOPS from sprouting legs and walking away if you know what I mean.
Well dammit by this time I needed a mental health break. I tromped over to Stu's office and just marched in without knocking.
Cathyann too had gone in to see Stu because she having MORE romantic problems with her boyfriend DuWayne. She was flopped onto one of the chairs infront of Stu's desk. Stu was busy, and practicaly ignoring us as he was on the phone closing a hot deal.
"Life in the fast lane ain't worth a danm when yer dating a road bump," she muttored contemptuously. I quietley sat in the seat next to her.
"All mah tantalizing feminine wiles cain't so much as git a twitch out o'that DuWayne," she snarled, leaning way way back to face up to the ceiling while scratchin her pink exposed belly with her dimpled fingers that didnt have no nails. As usual she was wearin her tube top, while her hotpants seemed to be riding lower than ever.
"Why a date with that boy is like a Weekend with Bernie ," Cathyann shifted from hip to ham, with every exposed flabbey wottle under limbs and neck shuddoring as she bucked in the chair. Her hands, cletched in a fist that looked like a tangle of plump turkey franks angrilly bent and squeesed the latest picture ID of the very inanimmate looking DuWayne.
"You wanna know how bad it is?" she snapped. Before I coud reply 'No thank you," Cathyann sat up, flipped over to me like a giant roast ox being turned on a grill, and landed with her elbows on my chest and her nose allmost touching mine. Right in my face she deadpanned , "The man fell asleep on top of me."
I tried to tell her that I was pretty sure she has already told me this before, but she interrupted, THAT'S how bad it is." And she flopped back into her own seat.
"I don't mind it much when he does it after the main atraction, and I supose once in a blue, I can live with him fallin' asleep before things git going. But that ol' lug's droppin' off to dreamland during the Feature Presentation, waal, that thar's a dagnab insult I'll tell y'all WHUT."
I listenned to Cathyann for anothor ten minutes or so. And just then...
It looked like rain was coming and I did not want to be standing outside for anothor half-hour firedrill. Me, Stu and Cathyann stayed behind, and we closed the blinds in the office so no one woud see us.
Stu tore into the food like, well, a pig. He has this cube refrigerator in his office, and in there he had a bunch of bottols of various hot sauces. Cathyann said, "Ain't that stuff hot enuogh for you?"
Stu repleid, "Nah, I'm hooked. The hotter the better." He plucked a whole pepper pod off the top of one carton, and gobbled it up. "Oooh! Mommy! It's releasing the pleasure hormones!," Stu swooned in extacy and said to Cathyann, "All I can say is, the way to a man's heart is to go strait to his stomach."
Cathyann said, "Talk about a straight line: You gonna burn a hole plumb down to yo' ass! BWAHAHAHA!"
Cathyann waited around a few minnutes till the building was evacuated. Then with a loud grunt she hoisted herself out of the chair and anounced she was off to the caffeteria kitchen to bring us a few cold beers from her stash of contraband alchohol (and perhaps a Zima or two if any were left).
I was begining to think he pulled the danm fire drill himself to make sure he got all the extra food.
I told him all about how Granfather was making drammattic improvement. Next while still slobboring in the food he asked about my folks who he hasnt seen in a while. Yes, Stu might be a pig, but he is a considerete person.
"How's Susie and your dad? Ever find that eyebrow of his?...Whoa! this meat is hot!" he oinked orgasmically. "Mind if I whip this shirt off?" I said no problem. In my last update I wrote about how Stu ofton takes his shirt off when he eats, at least when he is alone in his office, because he gets so hot. At first I found it repulsive, but like anything else in this world; (lets just say that if my danm nose can get used to the stink of Granfather, for cryin out loud I suppose I coud become accustomed to the sight of Stu's porcine D-cup male teats).
Not that seeing his bare boobs mattors: He danm sweats so much through his clothes anyway, so that even on a good day he looks like the grand prize winnor in an Ugly Lumpy Chick Wet T-Shirt contest.
Stu violently unbuttonned his shirt like an anxious clumsey teenage groom on his wedding night. But it was not lust that was to be satisfied: Only speed. The faster he got the shirt off, the soonor his snout woud be buried in the burning embrace of the spicy food.
"You know Walter, the way my sence of smell has come back, I tell you, its like a new lease on life. I supose I owe you an apology for the, uh, Pudding Incident."
I said to him, "That is OK, Stu. You already appollogized for that. I was most upset with you concerning your feelings abuot Junior."
"This Thai food rocks! My mouth's still on fire," he said "Where the hell is Cathyann with those cold brewskis? Well, in any case, I do have somthing nice and cold right here!"
Stu reached behind himself, tits-a-swingin and pulled out of his tiny cube refrigerater two small paper cups of cherry flavorred Italian Ice.
"Here take one, Walter. Remember this brand? Back in the Sixth Grade, after school, gettin' these down at the corner market? It's the brand with all that tastey red syrup stuck to the lid."
I was happy to take one. I began to feel nostallgic for my lost youth. It was a nice treat. Stu didnt have no spoons, so we squeazed the cups and slurped the stuff right out of them like a coupel of kids. Like we did years ago. Soon his lips and gums and snout were all stained a bright cherry red. I supose my mouth and tounge were also just as as red.
Standing up quickley, I pulled my collor down and lunged for it.
"Gaddamn!" Stu whislted, "Did you see that?"
I screamed nervuosly, "What is it!" Stu narowed his tiny black eyes into deeper focus.
"Looks like you've got a wooly bear caterpillor or something on your neck....And I'll bet its suckin' the life blood out of...Walt....Walt! I was only kidding! Calm down!!"
But it was too late for me to be calm. I was already lurching arround the room, lunging agian and again, stumbling about spastically and before I knew it I'd tore my shirt almost completely off. It was a new yellow T-shirt I'd just boght when we were down in Mexico. I had worn it to work that day and earlier in the morning when I first arrived cought a glimpse of myself in the restroom mirror where to my shock I discovored that I had purchased this wrong shirt by mistake.
I thought the shirt read, "I Ate The Worm In Mexico" which means that you particippated in the very famous and touristy activity of eating the little worm in the bottom of the tequila bottle and there is a cartoon of a little worm on the shirt wearing a sombrero. But insted I hastily bought this similor looking shirt - a rude spoof of the "I Ate The Worm" shirt -- and it being too far for me to drive home and change, I simply turned the shirt on inside out before starting my shift. And in case you are interrested, this version of the shirt read: "I Burped The Worm In Mexico" which, rather than feature the festive activitty of consuming tequila is by contrast a rude simile related to selfgrattification used often though I'd never heard it before.
The shirt was now inside out, its collar clung tight on my head, just over my ears, as I thrashed in terror.