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Crassest of the 48

friday with weasel

This week’s Weekend Weasel is late on parade. Uncle B kept me up past my drunktime last night trying to extract my opinion on the layout of the garden, now that the season is upon us. And I’m, like, “the garden. That’s where the plants go, right?”

I was scheduled for an all-day Division meeting Friday. So I was delighted when my dentist’s office called the day before to remind me of an appointment. A cleaning, but I’d take a filling over a division meeting. First thing…after which I could indulge a slow mosey into my meeting.

How slow does a weasel mosey when a weasel moseys slow? I stopped for breakfast afterwards. In the booth next to me were two young, affluent wives. And by “affluent” I mean “blessed with an enormous amount of money hindered in no way by taste.” There’s lots of very crass money ’round these parts.

So one of them takes a cellphone call from (apparently) her electrician. The Rhode Island accent is sort of like Brooklyn, only loud and vulgar, so this is more barked than spoken.

“Yah…put the switch on that far wall. Yah. Next to the other switch. Yah. I want a dimmer on the chandeleeeer. So, you put the switch right next to that other switch. Uh huh. It turns on the jets on the jacoooozzi.”

What kind of room has a jacuzzi and a chandelier? I don’t know, but I would’ve guessed it was in Rhode Island.

So I get to the meeting just in time for the free lunch. I only have to sit through a couple of dozy afternoon speeches. They don’t call me ‘weasel’ in tones of hushed admiration for nothin’.

The highlight? The Human Resources lady (Human Resources! I hate it when Personnel changed their name…it makes us sound like lumber or something).

She says we’ve hooked up with the American Women Engineers’ Society. Or the Society of Women Engineers. Or Vaginas with Sliderules or whatever. I thought we only had one female engineer, but apparently we’ve picked up a few more. Anyhow, we’ve assembled a team of five female engineers to “travel around the country exposing themselves to the engineering community.”

Judging from the reaction at the meeting, the engineering community will appreciate that very much.


Comment from Dawn
Time: February 2, 2008, 12:59 pm

These are my favorite posts.

Comment from Jessica
Time: February 2, 2008, 1:37 pm

OK, this post is home to two of my favorite quotes
“blessed with an enormous amount of money hindered in no way by taste.”
vaginas with sliderules.
I don’t think mine has a sliderule.

Comment from porknbean
Time: February 2, 2008, 2:01 pm

Personally, if I owned a company, or needed an engineer, I would go with the best one I could find regardless of how their genitals slide.

Comment from Mrs. Peel
Time: February 2, 2008, 2:03 pm

heh. I got pestered with emails and meeting notices and such by the SWE group at school until I told them that I don’t support any form of discrimination based on characteristics over which people have no control, such as chromosomal condition (obviously, there are some exceptions; for example, I don’t want 4-year-olds getting driver’s licenses), and that my opinion of such behavior doesn’t change simply because I happen to be a member of the favored group. That got rid of them quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: February 2, 2008, 11:13 pm

Clearly, there is a God of Serendipity.

I read this latest post from Our Leader while Dawn of the Dead was on TV.

The inescapable connection between ‘divisional meetings’ and zombies is too obvious to pursue…

Oh, and yes, I’m afraid it’s true. Weasels live in hedges but pay them scant attention. Yer average Mustela nivalis couldn’t tell a hollyhock from a heuchera.

Damn good at despatching runnybabbits though – you have to hand that to the little fiends.

Comment from Muslihoon
Time: February 3, 2008, 1:52 am

Our Dear Leader?
Our Beloved Leader?
Our Fearless Leader?
Our Leader, Commander of Legions?

I need to know the correct form of address and reference.

I know nothing about gardens except my dog loves to eat rabbit droppings. He’ll refuse to eat all day, but when we take him into the backyard and he finds those droppings, *smack* *smack* *smack* goes his mouth. At least I think they’re wild rabbit droppings. (I would weird my mother out by saying: camel poo looks like dates and goat poo looks like beans. True story.)

Comment from Muslihoon
Time: February 3, 2008, 1:53 am

Uncle B: Have you seen Shawn of the Dead? How about Hot Fuzz? Both are quite good.

You Englishpeople know how to do comedy.

Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: February 3, 2008, 8:43 am

Hi Muslihoon – yes, indeed, I have and I enjoyed them both.

Maybe even better was a TV series called Spaced, which is very gentle and yet very weird. It was seeing him in that which prompted me to see Shawn of the Dead .

Mind you, uable to recall the name of that TV series, I’ve just looked him up on Wikipedia, where I find that his undergraduate thesis at Bristol University (usually thought of as one of our better seats of learning) was “A Marxist overview of popular Seventies cinema and hegemonic discourses”.

We would be a better country if we closed down our universities, I’m sure of it. They are the cause of so much indoctrination and idiocy.

Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: February 3, 2008, 9:46 am

Spaced was good. Especially the guy who played the artist, Mark Heap. I remember thinking at the time of Spaced and Big Train that he was our new Milligan (the best Goon apart from Bentine, who wasn’t as funny as Milligan, or Sellers or Secombe, but scored points for being a war hero, helping to liberate the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp and giving the SAS advice on how to shoot pistols). Alas, it wasn’t to be, and I was dead wrong. Naive even (who could possibly replace Milligan?). Still very funny, very talented though.
So the Rhode Island accent is like a stronger Brooklyn accent eh? Sounds good to me. I’m not sure if it’s different in real life, but it’s very endearing in the the movies. And Pamela Geller Oshry’s accent (which I assume is a Brooklyn accent) gives me goosebumps. In a good way.

Comment from Lokki
Time: February 3, 2008, 11:16 pm

…And I’m, like all, “the garden. That’s where the plants go, right?”

No! That’s where the parties go! But that’s not always a good thing, you know….

I went to a garden party to reminisce with my old friends
A chance to share old memories and play our songs again
When I got to the garden party they all knew my name
But no one recognized me I didn’t look the same

But it’s all right now
I learned my lesson well
You see you can’t please ev’ryone so
You got to please yourself

People came for miles around everyone was there
Yoko brought her walrus there was magic in the air
And over in the corner much to my surprise
Mr. Hughes hid in Dylan’s shoes wearing his disguise

I played them all the old songs I thought that’s why they came
No one heard the music we didn’t look the same
I said hello to Mary Lou; she belongs to me
When I sang a song about a honky-tonk it was time to leave

Someone opened up a closet door and out stepped Johnny B. Goode
Playing guitar like a ring an’ a bell and lookin’ like he should
If you gotta play at garden parties I wish you a lot a’ luck
But if memories were all I sang I’d ratherdrive a truck

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