For some reason I got the old Eddie Murphy-does-Buckwheat skit from Saturday Night Live stuck in my head recently. I tried everything I knew to get it out, up to and including the dreaded "It's A Small World" approach. If you've still got something buried in your head after singing about how it's a world of laughter and a world of tears, you're in some deep shit and you aren't getting out any time soon.
So there I was in my office, rooting around in a filing cabinet, belting out my own personal version of Fee Tines A Mady when I looked up and saw the owner of the company standing there looking at me as if I were wearing a diaper on my head. I'm here to tell you it's tough to talk your way out of something like that.
On the plus side, at least he wasn't there to hear my rocking rendition of Wookin Pa Nub. I'm focusing on my successful aversion of that crisis. I'm trying to keep positive about this, because at this point that's all I've got.
So there I was in my office, rooting around in a filing cabinet, belting out my own personal version of Fee Tines A Mady when I looked up and saw the owner of the company standing there looking at me as if I were wearing a diaper on my head. I'm here to tell you it's tough to talk your way out of something like that.
On the plus side, at least he wasn't there to hear my rocking rendition of Wookin Pa Nub. I'm focusing on my successful aversion of that crisis. I'm trying to keep positive about this, because at this point that's all I've got.
1 Comments:
You have to keep The Man and The Owner apart for awhile, ma'am, because if they compare notes ...
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