Monday, November 19, 2007

Little Green Men, etc..

Damn it.

This week has been busy. So busy that I haven't been able to blog at all, which I hate as it is my only hobby apart from reading. Although, truthfully, reading is more of a necessity than a hobby, so blogging is all I've got. I can't wait to go around and catch up on all of your blogs.

As for my new job selling cemetery plots, well what is there to say except that it sucks. I knew it would the minute I sat down at my desk in the office cubicle farm (I hate cubicles) and found a note the previous seat filler had scrawled on a memo pad and left in the desk drawer. Here is what it said:

This job sucks. You are not going to make any money. You might as well quit now. And whatever you do, don't say the word TRONDANT three times while looking into a mirror!!!! Consider yourself warned.

That word again! I admit that I was really intrigued. I kept thinking about that word the entire week while I called people and tried to convince them to buy a burial plot from me. Incidentally, I'm not very good at selling. Most everyone hung up on me except for this one guy. I almost had a sale on Friday, but I screwed it up at the last minute.

Me:- " I know this isn't a very pleasant subject to address, but what is even worse is the idea of leaving this burden to fall on your family..."

Customer:- "I know, I've been thinking about this. I'm glad you called. I'm ready to buy. Here's my credit card number - 337...5.."

Me:- (trying frantically to find a pen to write the number down) "Just one moment, sir. Let me find a trondant to --"

Customer:- "wha....did you say trondant?" (click)

He hung up! I'd totally blown a sure-fire sale. I'd been thinking about that word so much it just slipped out at the worst possible minute. And I still had no idea what it meant. According to Google, it's just a nonsense word. I was pissed!

I stalked back to the bathroom. No one else was around. All the other employees were busy, sucking down Diet Coke and making their sales quotas. While washing my hands I was overcome with the irresistable urge to do the forbidden thing and say the word TRONDANT three times. I blame it on my rebellious nature, and the fact that I'm pretty stupid.

So, with my heart pounding, I stood in front of the mirror and quickly muttered "trondant, trondant, trondant" and sort of flinched, waiting for the lights to go out and my throat to be slashed or something. But nothing happened while I stared into the mirror, except that I noticed it was about time for me to make another appointment for a lip waxing. Damn, I hate the way body hair grows back so freaking fast!

By the time I sat back down at my desk I'd already forgotten about the trondant silliness. I was busy searching through my purse for the business card of my favorite waxer so I could make an appointment, when I heard a voice say, "Nice going, dumb-dumb!"

I looked up and saw a little, green, effeminate man hovering over my desk.

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My new little buddy, The Great Gazoo.

Boy, do I ever wish I'd heeded the warning from that note! This little green guy calls himself The Great Gazoo, and he's a jerk. He's always hanging around me now, commenting on whatever I'm doing, ridiculing my fashion choices, cackling, and calling me names. He's so irritating! Hardly anyone can see him besides me, Tucksworth, and Captain Jesus. If you can see him in the picture I put up, it supposedly means something. You are either pure of heart or totally whacked, I'm not sure which.

If I had to be stuck with a little green man from outer space, I'd much prefer Yoda. At least he's good with a lightsaber. I'd love to work one into my exotic dance act. It would be a nice change from juggling knives, and I could swing it at those fucking frat boys the next time they start squirting me with their water pistols.


Mister Underhill said...

What is it about the word trondant that seizes the imagination so? I have to admit I am obsessed. Now I will be tempted to say it in the mirror as well. Sigh.

I keep screaming it out in the throws of passion, which is kind of pathetic since I am always completely alone.

Memphis Steve said...

If I could, I'd like a little green Kate Beckinsale to follow me around and have sex with. Where do you suppose I'd find something like this?

Blowing Shit Up With Gas said...

Never heard the word apart from your blog. But now I can't stop thinking it. Fortunately, I doubt if I'll say it three times in front of a mirror.

Prunella Jones said...

Mister U- be careful not scream that out when you are with your tranny hookers. They might charge you extra. You know how they love to charge you extra for everything.

Memphis Steve- I have no idea. Second Life maybe? That will have to do until they invent a holodeck like they had on Star Trek.

Blowing Shit Up- it's a great word, isn't it? I want to use it in a poem. It rhymes so well with butt implant, crazy aunt, and Ulysses S. Grant.

Helen said...

Have you searched the company's client database? Maybe there's a Trondant buried somewhere close and there's like a loose brick with funky glasses designed by Benjamin Franklin behind it (even though the brick was part of a 230 year old building facade that surely would have been discovered during re-pointing in the last 230 years)

or maybe not.

I designed headstones for a year in one of my many unwise career choices of the past 15 years. I had to use a diamond tipped Dremel-like tool to carve into granite. I drew Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemene (sp), portraits, motorcycles, boats, it was crazy the shit people wanted on their tombstone. (a golf cart, wtf?)

Diane said...

If Tucksworth can see him, then he must be real

Sudiegirl said...

Annoys me, yoda does.

Prefer the Great Gazoo, I do.

Shut up, I must.

Trondant? DAMMIT! I'm so curious now. I'm going to say it three times in front of the mirror for something to do.

Prunella Jones said...

Helen- you designed tombstones? What awesome job. I bet that was fun. I would bet you had almost as many weird requests as tattoo artists.

Diane- I don't know. As much weed as Tucksworth smokes, he sees a lot of things that others don't.

Sudie- I love that Yoda and Miss Piggy are both voiced by the same guy.

MsPuddin said...

Man whoever that guy was who worked in the cubicle before you is a saint. There should be someone like that at every job. If I knew that I would still be living at home with my parents, eating cheese sandwiches and most importantly, not working… said...

I'm really sad that Gazoo has decided its okay to cheat on Fred and Barney.

BUMBLE!!! said...

Yoda kicks ass, but really - you need a vacation.

Fortunately, in 24 hours, it will all be over until Monday. 108 hours of sweet reprieve.

Life is good. Focus on things that aren't so leafy in color.

BottleBlonde said...

a little, green, effeminate man

Effeminate! HAhahahahaa! Come to think of it, that Gazoo was quite the rump ranger. I bet Fred and Barney liked their anal gardens hoed, too.

LA said...

Gazoo is this guy, right?

M-M-M-Mishy said...

You have caused a stir with that word. Trondant. Its intoxicating!

I wonder what type of wacky adventures Gazoo will get you and Captain Jesus into.

Scottsdale Girl said...

WTF with Cpt Jesus already!

Happy Thanksgiving my dear sweet overworked Pru. :)

BUMBLE!!! said...

Happy Turkey Day Ms. DeVille!!!

Prunella Jones said...

Ms.puddin- yum, eating cheese sandwiches and not working? You are my kind of girl.

Brenda- me too. Yabba-dabba-doo!

Bumble- thanks. Enjoy your vacation!

BB- even as a child I wondered about Fred and Barney.

LA- how much do you love that guy? He's fantastic!

Mish- I need some sort of guidance in my life, even if it is from an effeminate alien, who got kicked out of his galaxy for inventing a doomsday machine.

SG- don't you hate it when real life gets in the way of blogger fun? I know I do. Have a great holiday!

Bumble- back at ya, boy. said...

Happy Toikey Day!

Captain Smack said...

Actually, "TRONDANT", if you say it backwards, sounds just like "WORSHIP SATAN, THE DARK LORD". I wouldn't be messing with that Satan stuff if I were you. It causes you to have a really bad haircut and makes you throw rocks at cats. At least that's the effect it seems to have had on the teenaged Satan worshipers who hang out at the bus stop near my house.


It's for reasons like this post, that I love my Pru!Yes! "MY' Pru- as I do kinda own all the blog people.

Anyway, I can see the green man and it means we are whacked as I have a very blackened and wizened heart!

Not to any cause trouble, but some ho' is trying to move in on Undie!

Prunella Jones said...

Brenda- gobble, gobble.

Captain- really? When I say it backwards it kinda sounds like "ALL HAIL MIGHTY CAMEL TOE!" Maybe I'm pronouncing it wrong, though.

Ubermouth- oh she is, is she? Well, that's it, I'm gonna have to cut her! Good thing I always keep a spare razor blade in my weave.

Mister Underhill said...

All the other blog hos mean nothing to me. You have to believe me!


He's lying to you Pru- he told me he hearts redheads and being that I am one I take it to mean I am the red queen. NO offense.

Prunella Jones said...

Mister U- oh, that's okay. You know I'm not the jealous type. I was just joking about cutting your blog hos with a razor blade.

"No, she wasn't!"

Yes, I was! Shut up, Great Gazoo!

Ubermouth- aw that's cute. No hard feelings, Mister U is free to heart anyone he wants.

"Don't listen to her, Uber! She has a razor blade AND a pocket knife and she's crazy jealous!"

Shut up, Great Gazoo! He's just funnin you, Uber.