Heard on my local radio sports talk show.
“So the Yankees had their World Series celebration today. I understand that team manager Joe Girardi spoke. Yeah, he got about half way through the speech, then called Mariano Rivera in to finish for him.”
: rim shot :
(if you watched any of the American League Post Season, you’ll find this not so much funny as shake your head true)
Hamburger NOT with the ladies who play soccer!
An instructional video for the husbands and boyfriends, maybe?
Currently, at the building across the way, there are some gentlemen hard at work putting a new roof on the two-story structure.
Roofing has got to be some grueling, backbreaking work, and they’ve been toiling at this for a few days now.
About an hour ago, all work went quiet over there. I thought maybe they were on a break. They weren’t on a break.
It appears they were having a little conference. What they’d call in the corporate world, a “root cause analysis”.
I suspect they discovered what, or rather, whom was at the center of the mistake, because I could then hear the supervisor of this project having a one-on-one mentoring conversation, loudly, with his employee.
Let’s keep this a family friendly post…for all the instances of the eff word, I will substitute a more appropriate word.
Oh let’s have fun with it, let’s use the word “hamburger.”
Here we go, a faithful recounting of this clearly very hands on and empathetic manager as he guides his employee through a big error.
Remember: hamburger = eff word
“You hamburgered up. You hamburgered this whole thing up. I didn’t hamburger up. All the rest of these hamburgering guys didn’t hamburger this thing up. What in the hamburgering hell were you thinking? You weren’t thinking and you hamburgered this hamburgering thing all to hell. What the hamburger, man?! What the hamburger happened?”
: sound of employee mumbling, trying to explain his reason for hamburgering everything up :
“You what? You what? Who the hamburger told you to do that? I sure as hell didn’t hamburgering tell you to do that! Now this whole hamburgering project is running behind and that costs hamburgering money? Do you get that? Do get that you’ve cost every hamburgering one of us some hamburgering time and some hamburgering money?”
: more mumbling :
“Aw man, what the hamburger. Get back to work!”
And with that, all the machines started up again, the smell of tar once again filled the air, and the team of folks got back to roofing.
This, among the many reasons why I feel so fortunate to be able to work a white collar gig. I’m pretty hamburgering sure that if my boss ever talked to me that way, I’d have a pretty good hamburgering lawsuit I’d think about.
Betcha it was no where near the bad day this guy had. Whoa!
Ok, I recognize this is a terribly blurry iPhone photo, but take a look at this.
What you may not be able to tell from that photo is the label on my avocado, purchased at my just down the street local supermarket, says “New Zealand Hass”.
What. The. Eff?
I live in CALIFORNIA for crissakes!
We make very fine Hass avocados RIGHT HERE. For the love of pete, people grow them in their backyards!
Why I gotta eat something grown halfway ’round the world?
I didn’t even think to look, I saw Hass avocados, and I grabbed two soft ones off the top. I naturally assumed that since these babies are so plentiful locally that California grown would be on the shelves.
But noooooo!
And I’ll tell you this…it’s a terrible avocado too. Stringy and bland.
I am ticked.
The only redeeming value for that grocery is that they also carry this:
It is to weep.
That may be the only item I procure from those folks from now on.
(Apologies to Avelino and Meredith, fellow ex-pats. I’m guessing DC grocers don’t sell the good stuff. I tip a loaded chip to you both!)