It's a Shame About Ray
I miss Don.
My stalwart lab-mate has been moved to somewhere new in the resultant reshuffle that was birthed by this last layoff. No more will there be the morning greeting of "Sweeeeeeeet!" when I walk in the lab. (We started doing this after we noticed one of the engineers over-using the phrase.) Mostly, I did my work and Don did his. We stayed out of each others way, but were friendly enough to pass the time together when it was slow. It was the perfect, non-comittal, work friendship. We never invited each other out for drinks. We never asked after the others family. Just a couple of jokes and some biting cynicism to wile away the time.
Sweeeeeeet.
Now I have Ray. Ray is a jackass. He likes to talk. Usually about God, but sometimes he's divergent enough to talk about hunting. So...we have a bunch of options. He is a SUPERCHRISTIAN. That means that everyone in earshot is subjected to his testimony regardless of whether or not they wish to be.
He doesn't believe in dinosaurs.
Let me say that again...just to drive the point home...he doesn't believe in dinosaurs. Not that they don't exist now (even though we all know they do...they're just really good at hiding)...but that they never existed. He believes that the Earth is about 6000 years old. You know...it's been here since God made it.
Let's go get a doe!
I hate Ray's little mind. Every time he opens his mouth, I want to put a punch in it. Then I look at him with his salt and pepper Magnum P.I. 'stache and his rippling biceps under his american flag themed t-shirt, and I decide against it. He'd beat the ever-loving shit out of my liberal ass. And then there's a chance he'd have me decapitated, stuffed, and mounted on his den wall next to the award-winning elk antlers he probably keeps in there.
I like to rile him up. I told him yesterday that I just read in the news that they were going to make anyone with a shotgun, (which I know can be bought at Walmart with very little hassle and without a license) register with the Sheriff's department. He went off. Personal liberty this. God said something relevant that. Blah, blah, blah. He was practically frothing, when I came back and said "Oh...it says 'stungun' not 'shotgun'." He went back to his side of the lab and sulked, no longer able to be righteously indignant. He left me alone for the rest of the day.
Later I apologized and we went out and shot a buffalo.*
I miss Don.
*NOT true!!!
My stalwart lab-mate has been moved to somewhere new in the resultant reshuffle that was birthed by this last layoff. No more will there be the morning greeting of "Sweeeeeeeet!" when I walk in the lab. (We started doing this after we noticed one of the engineers over-using the phrase.) Mostly, I did my work and Don did his. We stayed out of each others way, but were friendly enough to pass the time together when it was slow. It was the perfect, non-comittal, work friendship. We never invited each other out for drinks. We never asked after the others family. Just a couple of jokes and some biting cynicism to wile away the time.
Sweeeeeeet.
Now I have Ray. Ray is a jackass. He likes to talk. Usually about God, but sometimes he's divergent enough to talk about hunting. So...we have a bunch of options. He is a SUPERCHRISTIAN. That means that everyone in earshot is subjected to his testimony regardless of whether or not they wish to be.
He doesn't believe in dinosaurs.
Let me say that again...just to drive the point home...he doesn't believe in dinosaurs. Not that they don't exist now (even though we all know they do...they're just really good at hiding)...but that they never existed. He believes that the Earth is about 6000 years old. You know...it's been here since God made it.
Let's go get a doe!
I hate Ray's little mind. Every time he opens his mouth, I want to put a punch in it. Then I look at him with his salt and pepper Magnum P.I. 'stache and his rippling biceps under his american flag themed t-shirt, and I decide against it. He'd beat the ever-loving shit out of my liberal ass. And then there's a chance he'd have me decapitated, stuffed, and mounted on his den wall next to the award-winning elk antlers he probably keeps in there.
I like to rile him up. I told him yesterday that I just read in the news that they were going to make anyone with a shotgun, (which I know can be bought at Walmart with very little hassle and without a license) register with the Sheriff's department. He went off. Personal liberty this. God said something relevant that. Blah, blah, blah. He was practically frothing, when I came back and said "Oh...it says 'stungun' not 'shotgun'." He went back to his side of the lab and sulked, no longer able to be righteously indignant. He left me alone for the rest of the day.
Later I apologized and we went out and shot a buffalo.*
I miss Don.
*NOT true!!!
Just think...if you worked down here in the bible belt, there would be no Dons, but only a sea of Rays. Rays, who, in their good SUPERCHRISTIAN ways, won't be helpful around the workplace if they find out that you're a devil-worshiping liberal.
A Sea of Rays? The Crocodile Hunter's version of hell?
Too soon?
I am thankful for every day I don't work in the Bible Belt.
EEEEEEEEEEEW.
Isn't that harassment? Why can't they leave that bullshit at home? I'm the QUEEN of inappropriate, and I would never bring up religion at work!
But finding new ways to torture him daily should be fun, right?! ~Tsunami
It is harassment. Unfortunately it is harassment with a mandate from Jesus. I don't have anyone with that kind of muscle on my side.
Mostly, I'm just confused by url's and titles of new web pages.
I wish you guys would settle down.
Kick your feet up and stop moving around.
I've only ever moved once. Okay...twice.
I mean three times.
Damnit!
First: nice title. I pulled the Lemonheads somewhere out of the cobwebbed basement of my memory. It was musty and smelled like teen spirit.
Second, I had to choke back peals of laughter about the stungun. Hahaha!
Third, have you considered converting to Islam? I hear Muhammad's kind of a bad ass...
If I believed in a religion that handed out virgins so liberally post-mortem, you'd all be terrorized by now.
I bet this comment puts me on a "watched" list.
Dear Fascists,
It was a joke!
Love,
K-
Jesus is Lard.
Or whatever.
I think this proves that he IS lard.
I don't have a comeback for that. You win.
Wait...I might be able to one-up you:
Hahaha
The fact that I can't access the site this links to from work scares me a great deal.
Glad to see that asterisk. Real men never apologize, especially before a hunt.
(Seems the D.A.'s claims about those "tendencies" just became substantiated.)
The question I need to ask myself is why I continue to click Richard's picture links when I already KNOW the price I will pay mentally for the rest of the day?
He doesn't believe in dinosaurs. Stunning isn't it?
About half of my family denies evolution. It's Hard.
No way Ray is cool enough to have a Magnum 'stache. You sure it isn't a Wilford Brimley 'stache?
This situation seems to cry out for a blasphemous blog on the bulletin board. Stay tuned.
@Richard: I saw it when I got home, and I concede. Totally victory for you.
@Floyd: Hahaha. THAT was clever. I totally never apologize before the hunt. I tend to apologize to the carcass though.
@Cynthia:I think I can say that all of my relatives believe in evolution.
They're still hillbillies...but they are rational hillbillies.
@Kevin: No bulletin boards! He'll sic Jeebus on me!
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