Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! What happens when you take all the crazy idioms (sayings) you heard growing up and slap them into one essay? Well, here you go.
To take over the company or not?
So, I was at work the other day, and I was busier than a one-legged man in an ass kickin’ contest. Finally, I got to the point where I was going to blow like a whistle, so I went looking for my boss. I’ll tell you though, she was slipperier than snot on a glass doorknob. When I finally found her, she was sitting around with her thumb stuck up her ass to which I said, “Ugh! That smells bad enough to gag a maggot!”
She laughed hard and replied, “Well, whatta you expect? I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off all day. I went to the president, but he said to go take a long walk off a short pier, and you can guess how that made me feel – wrapped tighter than skeeter’s ass in a nosedive.”
I sighed. She was right. The president had been riding her like a one-hump camel. The poor woman deserved a break. Then she looked at me and smiled. I cocked an eyebrow in response, knowing she was up to something because she was grinning like a possum licking the whipped cream off a light socket. “What?” I asked, wondering what was going on in her head.
“I was just thinking…” she began. “The guy in the corner office is slow as molasses in January. How about we toss him out like an old pair of shoes and run things ourselves?”
Although this was appealing, the truth was, I had to go to the bathroom so bad my eyeballs were floating. “Tell you what – hold that thought. I gotta pee like a Russian race horse at the Kentucky Derby running with a glue truck behind him.”
So we agreed to talk when I got back.
Fortunately, getting in and out of the restroom was easy as a piece of cake. By now I knew that my boss had an axe to grind, but I was relieved to be standing by her side, come hell or high water. I will admit, the idea of taking over the company might have been biting off more than we could chew, but when it comes down to the wire, it’s always best not to count your chickens before they hatch.
I walked into my boss’s office carrying a big chip on my shoulder, but I figured I had a right. After all, what goes around comes around. My boss opened her mouth, but as soon as she started talking, I realized that she was really my boss’s twin sister – a dead ringer. I said to the twin, “Hey – where did she go?”
She replied only, “Elvis has left the building.”
I knew I wasn’t going to get anything out of the woman since blood is thicker than water. So I did an about face, flipped her the bird and asked her to excuse my French. But since I knew that haste makes waste, rather than going head over heels in the bag, I decided to throw the towel in and began walking back to my office.
The twin sister yelled, “Hey! I’m hornier than a two-peckered billy goat!”
I rolled my eyes, turned around and walked back into her office. “Well then, I guess you have bigger fish to fry. I mean, come on – you’re about as handy as cow on a crutch. Look, I’ve really got to go…I’m so hungry I could eat a low-flying duck!”
The truth was, it was hotter than a popcorn fart in there, and I really didn’t want to hang around. So I headed quickly back to my office feeling about as worthless as chicken crap on a pump handle. I figured I had to get back to work, and once again felt busier than a cat covering up crap on a concrete floor.
Thinkin’ back, I don’t know about you, but the whole thing felt nuttier than a port-a-potty at a peanut festival.