Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Musical Methadone & Mental Masturbation: Vol. 01

Ok so at this point in the evening I am at Pink Mafia HQ, it’s around 7:30, and all is clear. The new King’s bark was much worse than his bite, because he totally gave up after 1 night of my ruthless cerebral assassination attempts, and he has resigned himself to sitting in the office, looking at porn on the computer, as most supervisors should anyway. I walked into work, and one of the two things that always happens to me, happens to me. I write the first thing that comes to my mind, and shoot it out to everyone on my phone texts in the form of a mental note, and get back to the stupid song that is stuck in my head. “We're leaving together .. But still it's farewell .. And maybe we'll come back .. To earth, who can tell .. I guess there is no one to blame .. We're leaving ground (leaving ground) .. Will things ever be the same again .. It's the final countdown .. The final countdown,” and I just walk around singing it at the top of my lungs. If this job isn’t bad enough, the mental imagery that it always starts another round of Final Countdown each and every night is just really really sad.

What I needed at this time was some Musical Methadone {that song that unlocks the key to getting another song out of your head} and it actually hit me like a bolt of lightning last night, “I'm layin' awake at night .. I can't get you out of my mind .. All I can hear is my heart beat .. And a voice in the dark of some kind .. Where are you now .. The fears are comin' back to me once again .. Oh, I wish you were here .. Takin' good care of me .. I want you .. I feel as though I'm out in the cold” and it was eradicated like Small pox. Ah remind me to send a thank you letter to Rob Halford and the rest of the Judas Priest boys for that one. I of course send this tidbit to everyone as a mental note part 2, and back comes a message from Billy “Or you could use Breaking the Law?”, which brought up a strange conundrum, because unlike “Out in the Cold”, “Breaking the Law” is hokey, and commercial, and now … very much stuck in my head.

“There I was completely wasting, out of work and down .. all inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town .. feel as though nobody cares if I live or die .. so I might as well begin to put some action in my life .. Breaking the law, breaking the law .. Breaking the law, breaking the law” …. arg … so now the overnight “Scooby gang of sad” {this includes several work mates, as well as Billy, Terri, Lori in absentia in text messaging … Lori being useless at this as it appears the only songs she has ever heard were from Duran Duran, and thus useless} is mulling over Musical Methadone. My Capo came over furious as she had heard “Breaking the Law” for the 17th time as I walked by, and barked out at me “How about some f*cking Mr. Crowley, while you are hopelessly lost in the gay 80’s asshole?” and yanno what? … “Mr. Crowley, what went on in your head .. Mr. Crowley, did you talk with the dead ..Your life style to me seemed so tragic .. With the thrill of it all .. You fooled all the people with magic .. You waited on Satan's call” … ah ha! … we seem to have found a certain G-Gnome to this whole madness!

The chain of events from there went from that to “High Enough” by Damn Yankees … “Time Warp” from Rocky Horror Show … “Here to Stay” by Korn …”Schism” by Tool … “November Rain” by Guns & Roses … that stupid “Hazel Eyes” song from that chic that won American Idol … “Complicated” Avril Lavigne … to OMFW … “We're leaving together .. But still it's farewell .. And maybe we'll come back .. To earth, who can tell .. I guess there is no one to blame .. We're leaving ground (leaving ground) .. Will things ever be the same again .. It's the final countdown .. The final countdown,” my issues get so much more complex with every passing day. I am obviously now a sick and pathetic music junkie.

It wasn’t actually the Musical Methadone that pulled me out of this one, it was the Mental Masturbation, that came from one of those gigantic boxes of rags that came into the shop. You all must know what those are, they are ripped up T-Shirts and crap like that, factories use to clean up messes, and then simply throw them away. One of my co-workers popped open the new box and pulled out a rag to start wiping down an old asphalt leak, and then he held the shirt open for all of us to see. The inscription on it says “It takes 14 inches of White Helmet to get inside my mouth, otherwise I am dark meat only, baby!”, and after the initial shock of that, a bunch of us ran over and started pulling all of the rags out of the box. I don’t have a clue where this stuff came from, but it wasn’t Wal-Mart. Another shirt said “I am what I eat! A big fat pussy! F*ck You!” {with a cat flipping the bird} on it, and another classic “I’m with stupid, but he has a big cock” {with a picture of Foghorn Leghorn flipping the bird}, and throughout the whole box, it was T-Shirts like this.

My Capo, came along {the angry lesbian, with the temper control issues} to start yelling at us, because the lines went down during our “Naughty Nightie Party” {and yes there were quite a few of those in there too}, and then she reaches into the box to pull out a HUGE pair of crotch less panties made for a baby elephant, and as she held them in front of her the things almost touched the floor, as she said, “Now that is just F*CKING WRONG”, and a rather nice shade of red flowed across her face, but it was her idea to strategically place all of these things around the plant, so that our HR director {flaming feminist with absolutely NO sense of humor whatsoever} could do nothing but trip over them all morning after we were all at home in bed.

The events of last night lead me to believe four things …
Spending time with my friends in a Cell Phone so they can get me hooked on singing bad music
.. 64.95 a month

Losing my mind over said bad music and in the process pissing off many of my co-workers
… 12.45 an hour

Having our own sadistic yet private “Naughty Nightie Party” at work to laugh away the time
… 32.49 a box

Watching the militant ex-marine, ball busting, lesbian at work blush over Dumbo’s crotch less panties … priceless

For everything else there’s blogs {and thanks to some of us, I am sure you haven‘t yet heard it all} ;8o)