The GB Diaries: Tales from the Dip: Day 8 & 9

The GB Diaries: Tales from the Dip: Day 8

  GB came back from a vacation of two weeks (much needed for both of us).  He was refreshed and "ready-to-go" though, of course, he came in late again. In the corporate world, after the 100th or 200th time, you might get fired.  Apparently this is not the case.  He comes in with a huff and quite sweaty like he fought a leopard from Columbia on the way in. 

  We work in pairs, and I had relieved my counterpart.  My relief's counterpart was out-cold, possibly dead in his chair, but then I heard snoring so I guess all was all right, sort of.  Feet were up on the desk in the rudest fashion possible.  GB. who is to relieve this guy is amused and happy and gives him a bit of a hard time as he wakes him up with his mumbles.  It's hard to tell his expression because his eyes are so sunken like such chicken vaginas it's hard to tell what's going on there, but his mouth opens like a pug dog so you can tell when he's happy-ish, or what he approximates to "happy".

  After he smashed-away at the keyboard for no good reason as nothing was happening, then took a nap hypocritically.  He had just given the last guy a hard time for snoozing and then he was out cold himself.  Well, no matter, it gives me reprieve. 

  I was vaguely interested in the possibility that he went to Yellowstone National Park on a whim, knowing full-well hotels there are booked years in advance.  He went cold, hoping to find a hotel supposedly.  Upon return, he mentioned to a co-worker he didn't go because he used the Yellow Pages to find out that there were no hotels available.  Apparently, he has a Wyoming phone book at home, hardcopy.  Uh-huh.  Says he stayed at a cabin at Estees Park.  I've been there and I found (so far) that the lodging there is horrid.  I wonder how it really went-down?  I'll never know, as he changes his story to everyone he talked to.  The one I list is the most likely-ish.

Cabin in Estees Park he stayed in.

  He awoke and immediately began drumming asynchronously.  This is impressive, though Buddy Rich would be rolling in his grave.  He was smashing the desk with his meat-hands trying to keep some unknown beat, but it was off by quite a bit, just.. loud.  Spastically and for no reason.  Maybe he had dreamt he was in an orchestra for John Williams?  The desk suffered the punishment. 

  He then moved on to soda cans and started smashing them on the table, all alone, by himself, in some odd rhythm that made no sense like a summer hailstorm.

  The rest of the day composed of fast left-turn twitch-glances to .. nothing.  There was nothing there and it frightened the children.  It reminded me of the scene in Total Recall (1990) when the disguised Arnold Schwarzenegger in an old-fat-lady outfit who announced, "..two weeks!"  started bugging-out.

                                                           

The GB Diaries: Tales from the Dip: Day 9

  Today I noticed GB uses water as a "rinse" for his chew-dip.  He'll buy a 20oz Arrowhead water and then drink some, swish, then spit it back into the Arrowhead water and/or a bottle of juice he might have around.  He often (mistakenly?) drinks from both sometimes and shakes his head like a cartoon struck by an unusually large mallet.

  He had his feet up on the desk, leaning back in the chair for most of the day.  I find that incredibly rude to do "on the job".  It's not as if he is "chief editor" of the Daily Bugle or anything like that.  He's the lowest "ranking" person here.  I won't do that, nor will I take naps on-the-job either, no matter how tired I am.  It's just plain rude.

  His hacking is getting worse.  A doctor would "put him down" I think, you know, "put him to sleep".  I have no idea what he's hacking-up but it is open-mouthed and onto the screen and there gunk stays.  Bothersome.

GB often makes pug-like sounds like such:


                                                   
 
  Today was "stomp-y" day.  He ran in-place in his chair for the better part of an hour, making a hell of a racket.  I almost thought it was the intro to Van Halen's, "Hot for Teacher"

                                                   

  Alas, it was not.  Just him with "Restless Leg Syndrome" I guess.

  There was a good amount of sleepytime today for him.  He slept a full hour and a half, snoring loudly in his chair, dirty boots up on the table making a mess.  He snores like Curly from The Three Stooges followed by a decently loud fart.  He also pants like a dog, quickly, as in this video:


                                                  

  Today was "The Noisy Banana Incident of 2014".  Today, he dropped a banana and he tripped trying to pick it up and smashed into a series of cabinets, knocking things down and everywhere.  Quite explosive.  I wore a hard-hat.  I think, no, I'm almost certain he crapped his pantaloons. 

  Today, he also marveled at a nickel for 20 minutes.

  It's of note he vacates his mouth thoroughly with his index finger for about 5 to 10 minutes, throwing the remains of chew-tobacco all over the floor, flicking it all over the place.  Mint.  It has a mint scent, and drool.  Yep.  Drool.

Out.