Here I Sit...

... with a blank screen in front of me at 9:46pm and not a thing to blog about.

Mr M suggests I tell everyone to piss off. So I will. Hey, piss off everyone!

This actually comes from a long-standing joke between myself and Mr M's clarinet teacher, Mr N. Mr N is a very good player indeed, and therefore Mr M thinks I should have the utmost of reverence for Mr N, unlike the anti-reverence I have for him. Mr M, that is. So of course, the first time I met the esteemed Mr N, who is (obviously) a very nice man and one of good humor to boot, he told me he'd give me an impromptu lesson on tonguing, and I promptly told Mr N to piss off. This sent shivers of upset down the spine of Mr M, as he never thought I'd have the nerve to do such a thing. Mr N knew, though, that it was all in good fun and I got my lesson, even if I didn't follow the instructions he gave me for practicing, which I don't do anyway, as the instructions involved completely re-doing everything I've ever learned on the clarinet.

But to cut a very long story short, now anytime I have an opportunity to speak to Mr N, or even to pass along a message to him via Mr M, the sentiment is always thusly: Piss off!

Today was the day of the good old DDC Business Luncheon. I blogged about this luncheon last year (see May 13, 2005), the affair where people from downtown businesses are herded to the local Baptist college's cafeteria, sat in a boxed-off area, fed school food, and are then obliged to listen to speakers (one of which this year was my boss) until we're released to go home.

The selling point (blog-wise) of last year's luncheon was the fact that my friend and workmate San innocently made a completely off-color remark to me that made me lose all control and sit for 20 minutes at our table with tears of laughter running down my cheeks, while everyone in the boxed-off area wondered what the hell the mayor could be saying about new businesses coming into town that was so damn funny.

This year, our table included the stalwart TheCompanyIWorkFor girls (God, how they must hate to see us come into the boxed-off area), a lady who was making her first visit to the luncheon, and a newly-elected town councilman.

And I got started off bang-zoom on the wrong foot when the councilman happily asked us all what we thought of the new signs as you're heading into B'field's downtown area, announcing Downtown B'field's Business And Shopping District. The boss expressed her pleasure at the loveliness of these signs, and I couldn't help myself and said, "The signs themselves are great - too bad they waited until the town died to put them up."

Well, this did not go over well with the boss. She tried to happily debunk my statement and make me say I was just joking, but I wasn't about to do that. Hey, I vote, I'm a Town Citizen, and if a guy doesn't want to hear me piss and moan about the death of our downtown area, he shouldn't run for councilman. I think I went on to say the signs should have said "Welcome to Downtown, Former Home Of The Town Hall, Former Home Of The Local Hardware And TV Repair Stores, Former Home Of The Only Grocery Store Local Old People Could Walk To...." It's to the boss's credit, I suppose, that she didn't kick me under the table.

Later in the ceremonies, during the boss's speech, she was telling people about some committee or other, and if anyone wanted to volunteer to be on the committee they could contact Mr A or Mr B. Now, Mr B is one of the most odious weasels the town has to offer, so without thinking I turned to San and uttered, "I wouldn't contact Mr B if I was on fire and he had the only bucket of water in town." Little did I know that our newly elected councilman heard every word I'd said. And was smiling a smile I didn't know quite how to take. It was either an "I'm right with you on that" smile or an "I can't wait to get back to town and tell him what you said" smile, or a "You cantankerous little cretin" smile. Or maybe it was just an "I picked the wrong table to sit at" smile.

Then I got to thinking about how Mr Newly-Elected Councilman was a client of ours and that maybe I should shut my big trap and be a nice girl. And so I was, making the happy gesture of giving away my door prize, a bouquet of flowers, to the lady at our table who was making her first visit to the luncheon.

I hope that made up for things. Hey, I told you I've been cranky lately.

I think my dad would have been proud.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* And now the real reason I blogged - acrowinners! We have acrowinners! And so, what did ooze out of Keith Richards's head during his brain surgery?
- Honorable Mention goes to q.o.a.t.i.p with her "Bluish Puss of Earwax. EEWWW!" Ewww indeed! Thanks for playing!
- Runner-Up goes to DeepFatFriar, with his "Benevolently Protected Ordered Elks? Egads!" I love the thought that Keith Richards could be in the Elks.
- And this week's winner goes to Flipsycab, with her "British Pounds, Olde English, Englebert." Yep, I could imagine all those stored in his bean. And I'd been wondering where Englebert was lately. He's dead, you know. No he isn't. Actually, he is. No, he's out there in LA, doin' his thing! (Thanks, Eddie Izzard.)
- And thanks to all who played - you've all done very well!