Friday, August 27, 2004
The corporate agenda & me
-a haiku poem inspired by reflections on team building excercises
if your company
was manifested in wood
i'd set it on fire
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if your company
was manifested in wood
i'd set it on fire
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.
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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
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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.
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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.
