j040115 (imported)
January 15, 2004
So I just found out that I have to go through a background investigation for my job. It’s not for a top secret clearance, but the customer is saying it’s the same level with the same investigation, where they talk to everyone who knows you, your bank, your neighbors (”He’s a very quiet man,” mine will say, “who goes running at odd hours.”), your relatives, yadda yadda yadda, and so on. They’re doing this investigation to make sure (I think, anyway) I’m trustworthy and loyal with all the system access I have.
Ready for the kicker?
It’s for the job I’ve been doing for the last twelve years.
I feel like there should be a drum riff there, or something.
(Note to the investigators who just read that and are considering not approving my clearance: I have a very ironic sense of humor; please don’t hold it against me.)
Saturday, the spud and I were watching the fine piece of cinematography known as Action Jackson (Walmart has a big bin of DVDs for like $5 each, which is only a buck more than renting. We watched Stroker Ace Sunday. Ah, the joys of classy films.). On the screen, a couple of guys were walking on a yacht and having a discussion.
“Whaddaya call a guy with no arms and legs, lying on the porch?” asked guy #1.
Guy #2 thought for a second.
“Matt!” he cried.
Great guffawing ensued.
“Whaddaya call a guy with no arms and legs, hanging on the wall?”
Silence.
“Art!”
Much haw-hawing proceeded as they walked. I felt myself drawn into the conversation.
“Whaddaya call a guy with no arms and legs, floating in the water?”
“BOB!” I crowed, jubilant.
“Bob!” said Guy #2, as the pair busted a gut laughing.
“Have you seen this before?” the spud asked, looking over at me.
I paused the movie.
“Yeah, back in the 80’s.”
“Oh. That’s how you knew who Bob is?”
“No,” I said, “I just figured it out from the conversation. Guy with no arms and legs, floating in the water. Bob.”
She gave me the patented I’m dealing with a dumbass teen look.
“How’d you know who Bob is?” she asked.
“I just knew.”
“Is Bob dead?”
“I don’t know, I just know he’s floating in the water.”
And she lost it.
“WHO IS BOB?” she screamed, “WHO PLAYS HIM IN THE MOVIE?”
“What?” I looked around to see if Rod Serling was hiding behind the couch.
“IS HE DEAD? IS THAT WHY HE’S FLOATING IN THE WATER?”
“No, he’s floating because he can’t swim. He has no arms and legs. He bobs. Like a cork. Bob.”
I looked at her expectantly.
“I don’t get it,” she said. Her brow was furrowed.
“It’s a JOKE. Guy on the porch with no arms and legs? Matt? Like a DOORmat. A mat. Guy on the wall? ART! Like a painting. ART! Guy in the water? BOB! Like a cork. BOB!”
I wanted to knock on her head and say Hello? McFly? Anybody home? Hello? but I refrained.
She finally understood and I resumed the movie.
Please tell me they get past this stage.
Those of you who liked the Tubby head-butt picture last time, here’s the full-sized version.
The Stump is a yawning bastard, and he’s funny as hell because he gives it his all when he does it. What’s even better is that he can be incited to yawn, just by someone faking a yawn. Last night, I was taking pictures, and Robyn started making the big yawn noises for Stanley…
Opera kitty.
Help me make the music of the…niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
Creepy alien kitty.
Vampire kitty.
The psycho.
The "old man" impression.
Stump tires of the yawns and shares his thoughts.
