The Meeting Minutes

So I'm in a meeting today drawing pictures of trees and little Asian houses when my boss says that 11 equals 6.

Now that's a hell of a way to start a blog entry, even if I do say so myself.

We were talking about timekeeping and how it has to be figured for the benefit of the little assholes here who want to take FMLA hours. Don't even fucking get me started on FMLA. Don't. Just google it and shut the fuck up, because I will fucking minotaur you. We have to count the actual minutes versus using tenths like they do in payroll. So since it's necessary to err on the side of the employee, we have to pay them a full 6 minutes even if they only worked 1 minute into a tenth. No problem, right? So this ditzy ass co-worker who wouldn't understand a Little Golden Book if you plugged her into that computer thing in the Matrix and fed it directly to her brain says that she's confused. No shit! You? Confused? Couldn't be! Jiggly H. Cups-O-Flesh, bitch…if I told you that your hair was on fire, you'd be confused. After it was explained to her for a literal half hour period, she finally understood, but still said we should wait to implement it until after we've talked to the rest of the department. That we should wait to start doing the right thing, the LEGAL thing, the this-will-keep-us-from-getting-sued thing, until we confer with the rest of the supervisors so that we "…can have consistency in the department." OMFG woman, you are only good for the holes betwixt your legs. No BAM, somebody fucking kill ME.

So then my manager says the second shift should have one lunch. We currently have 2 different lunches alternating half the department every quarter. I had a vision of Ziggy Marley…
One lunch….one lunch
Let's get together and eat at the same time…

Criminy, I'll just sit here and write "Mitch" in block letters over and over.

We then discussed some of the crap people have gotten fired for over the last few years. One chick had the same grandpa (pappaw?) die twice. The first time he died, it was in Arkansas. A year later he died in Houston. And the silly twat thought no one would find out. The next asshat lied about being on military duty for three months. Let that sink in a minute. There are many things in this world that will get you on the fast track to hell, but that one has got to be the best. I'd sooner make fun of retards to their big, silly faces or kick a frail, brittle-boned grandmother down the stairs than lie about military service. Then there was the chick that went on bereavement leave because her sister had been brutally murdered by her estranged husband. This chick's teammates collected over 500 samoleans to give to the family, only to find that the story was a big, fat ruse. Holy shitballs, some people are just too evil to share oxygen with.

I hope everyone in New Orleans is rooting like hell for the Astros tonight. Those fuckers owe it to 'em.