I Know He's Crispy And All, But...


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Today while changing the lightbulbs in our pole lights, the maintinence man who was high in the cherry picker was blown into the power lines.

Eight firetrucks. Two ambulances. Police. A news crew. The power has been cut on the block. He is slumped in shock in the cherry picker basket. He's alive, but clearly in danger.

Our general manager drives by. He is quickly briefed on the situation. He pauses with a concerned look on his face and very gravely askes:

"Do you think our lights are going to be ok?"


3 Responses to “I Know He's Crispy And All, But...”

  1. Anonymous steelcowboy 

    Typical managerial response....

  2. Anonymous Ashley 

    You are perhaps the best storyteller ever.

  3. Anonymous Vulgar Wizard 

    What. A. Jackass.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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