Friday, March 30, 2012

TGIF - Whatever That Means to You.

Here in Kookytown, many a person was glued to the TV yesterday, watching Minister Flaherty (aka "that leprechaun") deliver the country's 2012 Budget.

There'd been much ado leading up to it. Media and lefter-leaning publications and organizations had built up the possibility of a slash-and-burn approach to programs, services and jobs. Semi-hysteria was the order of the day. Meanwhile the conservative right eagerly awaited the word on just how many corporate tax cuts/perks could be bestowed.

In the end, the media hailed it as a "middle-of-the-road" type of budget. I don't quite see it that way, as almost 20,000 people thrown out of work (Kookytown civil-servants, so who cares?), nothing for the environment and not one word on the state of health care in this country is a big fail in my mind. But I'm nobody, so blah blah.

Really, it's Friday, and now that the giant Budget zit has been popped, I'm back to thinking about what Friday actually means.

For my cube-troll neighbor, Friday means nail-filing time. How she can do it so loudly is a mystery. But every Friday, she does. A week of doing nothing but holding loud, moronic personal conversations, eating several daily meals with insane gusto at her desk, and avoiding work (every phone call she takes ends the same: "You've called the wrong person. That's not my job. Who gave you my name?" It's very Kafka-esque) is tough on a gal apparently. She takes Fridays to fluff, groom, eat, relax with feet up on desk, smoke, and above all complain.

Re: Friday, I'm also reminded of a certain blogger who used to post naughty pictures of herself every Friday. Most of the male bloggers I know would wait with bated breath for Fridays. And no wonder, 'cause she certainly has a grand body. Men from all over the world would comment.

Well, nothing so out-there for me. I'm just going to post one more round of "Friday Fright" pix. I figure these will be the last in the series, as I've finally explored most of the "unique" design elements of the office in which I work.

Wheeee! Here we go:

This is a chair in my cube. It is for visitors to perch upon (except they usually can't because my coat rests on the chair. I have no coat rack. Or even a hook. You can probably imagine what I think of the fabric. So I won't go on.

Now, let's see what happens when I pull out just a tad: so you can enjoy the overlay on fraggly-green-carpet.

Uh-huh. But it gets better, as usual. Here's what happens when I bring my desk chair into the shot:

That's correct! The fabric on the desk chair is NOT, I repeat, NOT the same as the fabric on the other chair. Predictably, neither pattern is what I'd call "retiring" although I do appreciate the "purple" theme in both (like a hole in the head).

Let's take a little closer look:

Do you see what I see? Or have I blinded you yet?

Just to be cheeky, here ya go:

This may be how the inside of my head looks by Friday of every week :)



  1. This series of horrifying office decor pictures is starting to border on the 'NSFW' frontier!

    1. Ha! I like to think of it as "office porn" because it's obscene.