"I've gotta go to a meeting at Playboy next week," I say to Jim."COOL...maybe you'll be discovered," he says. "The Girls of Technology."
"Girls?"
"Right. Broads of Technology."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, I'm back to work. It's a long story.
My time off was too short but I did meet some cool people and went on some cool adventures.
Speaking of cool adventures, I met Dave from Rather Than Working during my time in Atlanta. He was just as I imagined - the perfect Southern gentleman - treating me to a fabulous dinner and giving me the Grand Tour of Atlanta, which was cool because I wouldn't have seen even 1/10 of it otherwise. I am looking forward to returning the favor when (not if, Dave) he comes to Chicago.
But yeah, back to work. It's good.
What I mean is, if I could've imagined the perfect reason to return to corporate life, it would be this place. Nice people, a normal non-turdly boss, and plenty of opportunities to make a difference. There's no smoking, no screaming and no reason to believe I can't keep this job for the foreseeable future.
Here's my only regret: I would've liked to give a go to the freelance thing a little longer. It was refreshing and interesting and I want to thank my friends Mary, Alison, Cheryl and Dennis for making it unbelievably easy and wonderful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So yes, Playboy.
Discovered, Hedy? Yes.
Number 8,321 why I love my poor, delusional husband.
Anyhoo, here's my primary concern: What does one wear to the Mecca of Masturbation?
Perhaps this? Or maybe this?
These outfits just scream 'professional', don't they?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, it was nice meeting you Hedy," says Playboy dude. "Nice outfit. By the way, we're doing a feature for the September issue called the Chubby Girls of Technology, you in?"
"Are you kidding? Of course!"
Oh, to be considered with the likes of the current Miss July, whose ambitions include "To be a 'bad girl' on The Young and the Restless, a housewife or a weather girl."
Why not all three, honey? You're on a roll. At least that's what it looks like you're sitting on these days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mecca of Masturbation, Hedy? How about showing a little respect?
Right.
What does one wear to the Bethlehem of Beating Off?
Is that better? No? I didn't think so.
Shaddap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And in honor of George Carlin, the Seven Words You Can't Say on TV: Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker and Tits.
Rest in peace, you cranky, brilliant dude.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Tobor the Great
I am reading: Sin in the Second City by Karen Abbott
And I am: Bunny-riffic
7 comments:
Welcome back Hedy to the world of 9 to 5! I am selfishly happy that you landed up in the River North area.....my neck of the woods.
I look forward to lunching together after you return from the bunny place.....that is IF you aren’t discovered by Hugh and forced to live in his mansion - pretending to be turned on by a guy who isn’t too far off from being the keeper of the crypt.
stripped and whipped
I wonder if George could have gotten away with "nicely blooming clitoris" on tv....
He was the first “blue” comedian I ever heard....and he was still able to crack me up in his mature years. If he makes it up to that big comedy club in the sky - I am thinking he will have to tone it down a tad.
sad
Hedy, you've inspired me. I'll work on the 'brilliant' part between now and then, but I want you to repeat these same words during my eulogy: Rest in peace you cranky, brilliant dude.
Jim's got his Richard Pryor, but it was George Carlin (the early blue stuff and the caustic rants) and Don Rickles who helped shape me into the man I am today..
p.s. - "tits doesn't even belong on the list.. Sounds friendly, like a snack...Nabisco tits...Cheese tits, corn tits"
George's dog told me that George was an Athiest. So I don't think that he gives a rats ass about any comedy club in the sky... or in the ground... or anywhere else for that matter.
That said, I liked the motherfucker and I don't give a shit about the cunts who try to fuck with the ole cocksuckers legacy because for all I know he liked to piss on his wife's tits... and that my friends makes me horny! But that's just me...
There, I used all the dirty words that made him famous.
R.I.P.
Gromit
Rebel Dog
Well, first, I'm not really Southern, unless you buy nurture over nature.
Second, my other thought for dinner was Krystal (the southern White Castle); but, they don't serve booze.
Third, Hedy didn't tell you that during our tour of Downtown (and just out of Downtown) Atlanta (when I made a wrong turn and ended up a block or two into some not so nice neighborhoods) she kept singing "Cuddly Wuddly Jesus" in a sing-song voice. We were attacked by Southern Baptist youths who had just come out of the Tabernacle, which used to be a church and now is a music venue. They were understandably a bit disturbed by seeing all of the scantily dressed young women (there for something to do with Playboy) they had unexpectedly encountered. So there was Hedy, smiling and singing and it just set them off. Hedy held her own.
Making bail was a bitch.
What's wrong with masturbation?
Dave! Bail wasn't so bad, it was trying to get that Bible outta my ass that hurt worse!
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