First, let me express my regrets for the delay between my most recent post. It's been a very busy summer for me, due to the, well, eccentricities of my employer.Apparently, the "Wild Card" just isn't good enough, the "MFY" are ripe for the picking, and "Jeter is a blow hole" all were repeated multiple times.
Mind you, I have no idea what any of that means, just that my employer was wound up tighter than a stop watch from June until this evening.
Tonight, as I was relaxing with a cup of Earl Gray and watching "The Lawerence Welk Show" circa 1972, I was summoned to his penthouse office high above the gold fish pond. It seems that Clay Buchholz, (a young man I've admired from afar since his no hitter against the Royals in 2007) was pitching and for awhile it looked as if history would repeat itself.
Upon arriving, I was informed I needed to search the internet for any fantasy football league information I could find, due to the fact my employer was having his "draft" tomorrow.
I have no idea why he participates in these things. To put it mildly, he sucks when it comes to these games of chance. For example, his Fantasy base ball team couldn't beat the Bad News Bears if he had some man named Pujols along with a Yogi? and and Teddy Ballgame? on it.
Again, I'm as lost as you are, but he IS rather passionate and the last thing he screamed at me as he left the office to spend time with those dysfunctional children of his was "Make sure Adrian Peterson is on the top of the leaderboard!"
I ask you this; if you made just under the minimum wage, spent roughly 15 hours a week with those demons he refers to as his children, and haven't had a raise since Ronald Reagan was President? Would YOU put up with this?
The last I saw of him he was ranting about "Freaking Aaron Hill" and cursing a blue streak as he informed me I needed to arrive at the office at the unGodly hour of 8 am Monday.
However, this was before the Red Sox actually won the game 3-2 and with tomorrow being Sunday, he'll automatically forget what he said so I think I'll just show up at 9.
It's not like he'll find somebody willing to put up with his nonsense between now and then anyway.
And I'm still wondering how I can get a personal message to that Terry Francona fellow. If any of you have any ideas, please forward them to me care of my employer.
5 comments:
Miss Hathaway:
Please inform your employer that he has issues. Serious issues.
And tell him I said you can come in at 10. Just like I used to do!
Hey Hath!! If you make nicey with Slacker, Becks and Nancy on SG...you're bound to be in the owner seats at some point...which is right next to the dugout where Mr. Francona sits, otherwise known as Tito
I really should make that old biddy sign a confidentiality agreement someday.
If I was Hathaway, I would quit. I've worked for you before, and let's just say it isn't the best gig out there. :)
She's got it made. And so did you. ;)
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