"Hideous reptilian abnormalities." That's all I've got to say. It's all I can say -- I asked an attorney.
(A nod to Turk Turon for the reminder).
Update
3 days ago
The further and continuing adventures of the girl who sat in the back of your homeroom, reading and daydreaming.
5 comments:
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Ummm...okay. (?)
I'll say it in Comments: Someone was chewed out, in the most paternalistic you-stupid-bint manner, over her utter and abject failure to assign another tech to finish a job she had previously started at the starship control section before she was working on the stardrives, ten miles away. This despite the fact that the stardrive job required full attention, that us techs are contractally barred from making work assignments to our peers, and the chewer-out (and official assigner-of-tasks) and at least eight other techs were within arm's reach of said project, which was visibly not being worked on. Yet somehow, it was this foolish gurrrrl's fault this non-critial task made no further progress.
Bear in mind that I am speaking in the most general of ways and no real person or persons is herein referred to.
Next fellow who makes disparaging mention of "playing the girl card" is gonna get an earful of what it is like to work for men who can just barely wrap their heads around the idea of wimminfolk bein' subservient little secretaries but balk, over and over again, at having to accord female skilled tradespeople even the minimal respect and politeness they give any man. They bluster, push and bully and expect a meek reply and a degree of mindreading concern for their tender little selves I doubt even their Mothers gave them.
Please note use of first-person and third-person pronouns in the preceding two paragraphs. I am commenting, after all, about work on a fictional bit of machinery, done by some fictive persons who are not otherwise specified. I clearly identify when I am speaking of myself and when I am not.
I shall never marry again. I dunno which or how many men are that way under the surface and by golly, I don't care to find out. I'm happier assumin' most of you aren't than putting it to the test.
We are not all pure bred jerks.
At least... I don't think so....
Come to think of it... most probably are.
Look at it this way.... in the morning Mr. Jerk is going to wake up with himself, an unloved piece of crap lower than dog turds, with little chance of being any better through the day.
YOU on the other hand, will wake in the morning with a beautiful and intelligent actual human being who's greatly cared for.
On the whole.... I think you win.
Actually, I almost sorry for Mr. Dog Turd. Probably sucks big time to be him.
Hmm...apparently the scapegoat has to be a nanny, eh?
What an ass. >=(
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