-a haiku poem inspired by reflections on team building excercises
if your company
was manifested in wood
i'd set it on fire
Friday, August 27, 2004
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Unarchives
Stupid joke that, yes, I made up #32
Q: Why did the Eskimo leave his tribe?
A: He wasn't Innuit!*
*Again, the use of the exclamation point clearly indicates self-hating shame and the absence of the means to conceal it.
Q: Why did the Eskimo leave his tribe?
A: He wasn't Innuit!*
*Again, the use of the exclamation point clearly indicates self-hating shame and the absence of the means to conceal it.
Letters From Summer Camp
Excerpts and complete fabrications from transmissions sent this summer
Re: I'm not dead.
Dear Mom and Dad,
As indicated in the subject line, I cling to life with ever-diminishing tenacity at Camp. Olfactory offenses and staff meetings are plentiful, as are general intestinal disturbances.
I learned to crochet and am making lots of hats, scarves, and other useful items here in the damp, hot forest. I was even able to crochet a sandwich at a recent meal. Needless to say regular access to bathrooms is a plus. That is, it would be if it existed.
With that, I must leave you. It is clean up hour - the one hour all week when campers must return to their bunks and be held there to clean up their child-film encrusted sleeping areas and I am finally able to crawl into a corner and rock myself into a frenzied state of giddy depression.
love and joy,
Counselor Betty
Re: I'm not dead.
Dear Mom and Dad,
As indicated in the subject line, I cling to life with ever-diminishing tenacity at Camp. Olfactory offenses and staff meetings are plentiful, as are general intestinal disturbances.
I learned to crochet and am making lots of hats, scarves, and other useful items here in the damp, hot forest. I was even able to crochet a sandwich at a recent meal. Needless to say regular access to bathrooms is a plus. That is, it would be if it existed.
With that, I must leave you. It is clean up hour - the one hour all week when campers must return to their bunks and be held there to clean up their child-film encrusted sleeping areas and I am finally able to crawl into a corner and rock myself into a frenzied state of giddy depression.
love and joy,
Counselor Betty
Unarchives
Stupid joke that, yes, I made up #78
Q: What was the lousy receptionist's blood type?
A: Type O!*
*The exclamation point is necessary to denote the false enthusiasm masking utter hopelessness.
Q: What was the lousy receptionist's blood type?
A: Type O!*
*The exclamation point is necessary to denote the false enthusiasm masking utter hopelessness.
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