Me: What did they do, get an adjustable rate mortgage?
David: They bought an interest-only loan on somebody caring about jazz.
Me: What did they do, get an adjustable rate mortgage?
David: They bought an interest-only loan on somebody caring about jazz.
Cherilyn: When I found out we were moving here, I was like, if I’m going to be in the middle of nowhere, I want to be in the middle. Not the outskirts.
Me: Yeah, you don’t want to have to commute in to nowhere.
Lawyer: I don’t know that I’m comfortable with calling it “infamous.”
Me: How ‘bout “notorious?”
WO1: I’m a floater. They made up a title for me. I should send you the organizational chart.
Me: Are you off to the side, connected by a dotted line?
WO1: You’ve seen it already?!
Cathy: I don’t think we need to S-P-E-L-L.
Tracy: Look what Uncle Derrick has on his underpants!
Greg: Cows? That’s Hinduism!
Cathy: Not everyone gets to see my special underwear.
Greg: Welcome to the jungle, Sarah.
Me: Have you got fun and games?
Greg: I don’t actually know the song all that well.
Greg: Did you know William F. Buckley Jr. died?
Me: I just saw it on that Newsweek, but otherwise, no.
Greg: Yeah, like a couple days ago. Friday, maybe.
Me: I live in a hole.
Greg: I saw it on Wii News.
Me: I don’t know what’s more pathetic: my not knowing or your finding out the way you did.
Mike: In the mean time, there's Bill's child, whom I refer to solely as "Laser Squid" for no reason other than she is a Laser Squid.
Me: In what sense is she a Laser Squid? Does she have a beak?
Mike: No, just lasers. And tentacles. Except not really.
MLA Listserv: The latest TSA bulletin says corkscrews are allowed in carry-on luggage.
Guy to COL: I was just at [company]’s website, and this tune is out of print.
COL to Guy: Sarah can send you a set if you get permission to photocopy.
Guy to Me: This is out of print. COL said you could send me a set.
Me: You will need permission to photocopy from [company].
Guy: I was just at [company]’s website, and it’s out of print. COL said you could send me a set.
Me: You will need permission to photocopy from [company].
Guy: No, you need permission, because you’re the person making the copy.
Matt: Thank god you’re still here…why are you still here?
Matt: Another little communist flare-up
Me: You’re really shooting for quote of the day, aren’t you?
Matt: I’m not trying.
SGM: Shit, I’ll take it to Pachanga.
Me: That’s actually not a bad idea.
SGM: I’ll do it. Where are the lyrics?
Matt: They’re in your office I think.
SGM: I think I locked myself out.
Later…
Matt: How the fuck have we come to rely on a restaurant?!
Me: Before that, we were relying on Wikipedia.
Matt: Okay, true. But a restaurant?
Matt: God. I need to talk to someone who speaks Spanish.
Me: We are so useless. What’d you take, French?
Matt: Yeah.
Me: I took German.
Matt: God. I’m calling Lopez.
David: I didn’t even know you could possess underwear fraudulently.
Me: My advice, then, is to stay the hell out of Singapore.
Retiree, getting cookie: I’m gonna be bigger than a house.
Me: Hooray! No weigh-ins!
Retiree: You’re right! *gets additional cookie*
Me: Hey, a new feature! When I hover over a URL that is blocked, it tells me before I click on it. That’s actually hella useful.
Mike: That’s awesome. Does it have the reason there? “Blocked: Irony.”
Me: Blocked: Too fun.
Mike: Blocked: Cuz. We don’t have to tell you. :P
Me: Blocked: Neener.
Mike: Blocked: Shouldn’t you go outside and get some exercise?
Me: Blocked: Hai-keeba!
Mike: Blocked: Gymkata!
Me: Okay, okay, IF they didn’t start the zombie apocalypse, THEN that would be a good place to run.
Mike: Can I just say how amused I am that we are discussing an actually existing product that combines diabetes glucose screening and video games in one convenient package for children?
Me: Out of curiosity, what’s the band’s usual hotel in King of Prussia?
Darrin: Crown Plaza or Fairfield Inn. There are many more in the area.
Me: Well, sure. It’s that giant black hole of a mall, sucking in the orbiting hotel chains like errant space junk.
Darrin: At the speed of light.
Bill: My goal is a retirement speech completely devoid of personal pronouns.
Me: I say new policy: for your retirement speech, you get one word for every year you’ve been here. Twenty-four years, twenty-four words.
Bill, after a particularly notable retirement ceremony: You should charge people to get on your blog today.
Me: An idiot trombone player (note redundancy) is changing his child’s diaper on the floor in front of my desk. Notably, the bathrooms are right across the hall. Hello?
Mike: Yeah, see? See?? Babies make people’s brains go away. It’s universal. Babies are brain-eating zombies.
Technique 1, attempted Wednesday afternoon by a community band director: Call the Field Band, complain that every time you call the Field Band, the Field Band never sends you anything, explaining that “that’s why this time I’m calling you.” That is, the Field Band. Then ask for something that went out of print 20 years before the Field Band existed. Act disgusted when told it is not in the library.
Technique 2, attempted Friday morning by a high school band director: Demand, repeatedly, that the Field Band send you music the Field Band doesn’t have. When directed to call a band 20 miles away with a library five times larger than that of the Field Band, explain that the Field Band should send the music (that the Field Band doesn’t have) because “we’re right down the street from you.” When reminded that the Field Band still doesn’t have this music, ask “well, what DO you have?!” Hang up.
Technique 3, attempted last month by a high school band director: Tell the Field Band to send you a copy of a score that you have on order from overseas, to cover you while it’s in transit. When the Field Band replies that this is fine, but due to previous abuse of this copyright loophole, you will need to send proof of the order, admit that you don’t really have it on order at all, you just lost it. When the Field Band explains that the “cover copies for music on order” loophole only works when you actually have music on order, assert that you “kind of” have it on order. When asked again for proof, admit again that you don’t have it on order at all.
Past techniques:
- point out that since the tune exists on a recording of the Marine Band, it must therefore be in the Field Band library.
- assert over and over that the tune is permanently out of print, even when a new edition has come out in the past six months.
- legally borrow a tune from the Field Band, then offer to sell the set on a listserv the Field Band reads.
Mike: I always think of them as the same person. Except that one danced, and the other one just sorta…leaned.
LTC: Can you blow it up more?
Me: This is a big as I can make it.
LTC: What if you cut off the stuff on the top and bottom?
Me: That’s as wide as it can go, so that’s as big as I can make it.
LTC: But they don’t need this stuff down here.
Me: Yes, but that’s as wide as it can go, so that’s as big as I can make it.
LTC: They just need this one strip through the middle.
Me: Right, but that’s as wide as it can go, so that’s as big as I can make it.
LTC: So if you cut off the bottom part…
Me: It would still only be that wide. So that’s as big as I can make it.
LTC: Really?
Me: Yes.
LTC: Huh.
Me: Some woman wrote to us looking for a recording of “the long version” of Hail to the Chief.
Mike B: What, the one with the bridge and the big open section?
Award Citation: …he overlooked all aspects of [project]…
Me: Man, I overlook stuff all the time and I never get an award for it.
LT: I know! Me, too!
Arranger 1: That’s an extremely well-polished turd.
Arranger 2: That’s what we do best!
Me: Run for your lives! Actually, no, unplug everything first and THEN run for your lives!
David: Where could you run to that NSA wouldn’t find you? Time to get out the trusty aluminum foil hat.
COL H: Playin’ Minesweeper?
Me: Nah, I’ve been fielding phone calls from LT Toven.
COL H: Wantin’ to borrow something, I bet.
Me: Yep.
COL H: I hope you told him “No, sir.”
Me: Well, I told him “no.”
COL H: Well, that’s half right.
Mike: You can’t has.
Me: Does want!
Mike: The only way to combat lolcats is with Broccoli Dog.
Me: Or limecat.
Mike: No, limecat is part of the problem.
Me: Oolong, then.
Mike: Yes, the rabbit is fine, but only because it looks as though it could fly into a killing rage at any minute.
Me: I thought Martians were small and gray-green.
David: It’s pretty sunny there. People that live in sunny places are brown. Martians = brown.
Me: It’s too far from the sun. People who freeze turn blue. Martians = blue.
David: Alright, summer highs are only 20 Celsius. That’s not real warm, but there’s no cloud cover to speak of. Martians = brown on the outside, blue in the middle. The way I like my cheese.
Notice in local paper: If you have absolutely no phone and no internet access during all of the open season, contact redacted@redacted.gov and arrangements can be made for enrollments.
Thus, to paraphrase anyway, “If you can’t email us, please email us.”
Me: It’s barely recognizable.
David: Yeah, but it does make me want to frag aliens.
SGM: Are you studying?
Me: Nah, I’m just screwing around.
SGM: As long as you’re not working.
Me: Okay, go ahead and tell your pants story.
Greg: What pants story?
Me: You’re kidding.
Greg: What?
Me: The enchanted pants.
Greg: What are you talking about?
Me: The enchanted pants story you’ve been going on about for days.
Greg: What enchanted pants?
Me: Are you kidding me? For days! Enchanted pants!
Greg: What are you talking about?
Me: The enchanted pants story.
Greg: What enchanted pants story?
Me: With the corpses.
Greg: Oh, that!
Craig: You know what? Just stop there. No story can live up to that lead-in.
Mike: Consume! Consume!! Why do you hate America?
LT: You are awesome.
Me: Can I get that in writing?
LT: Sure. Can you use that on an NCOER?
Me: Strangely, I’m going to have to guess no-ish. Nor “rulez.”
LT: How about “phat?”
Me: Oh, sure. “His demonstrated commitment to safety is totally phat, yo.”
Me: Things to do today: talk about urine, light stuff on fire. Done and done.
Wally: It just doesn’t get any better than this.
COL H: Here’s a business card for [weird old guy]. You want one too?
Me: Sure. I’ll put it in my scrapbook.
COL H: I’m running out of uses for them.
Me: Well, you could wallpaper your bathroom.
COL H: Lieutenant!
LT: Yes, sir!
COL H: Get to work!
LT: Yes, sir!
Me: They’re so cute when they’re new.
Me: [weird old guy] was here.
COL H: Yeah, I heard him.
Me: He demands a business card from you, which I don’t have.
COL H: Demands? Why?
Me: I find when dealing with [weird old guy], it’s best not to ask questions.
COL H: Gotcha.
COL P: You know, some time I’m going to figure out that you’re not really here, and that it’s just a hologram or…
Me: Processing. Please wait.
COL P: Aha!
LT: The building’s actually spinning, and I’m still in one place.
ME: Ohhhh….hurts….
Me: Someday, I will not be taking up all your space. But today is not that day.
Mike B: Then today is the day you will one day rue.
Me: That’s fair.
Mike B: Well, go on then, rue!
Me: *rue*
Mike B: That’s better.
Me: Here you go. And before you get any crazy ideas, it’s $455 for the first performance, $300 each additional.
LT: You’re such a buzzkill.
Me: Hooah.
Me: You haven’t once tripped on my lieutenant-tripping device. I’m starting to wonder if it was worth dragging it up here.
LT: Should I have tripped on it?
Me: They usually do.
LT: “They” meaning officers, or just lieutenants?
Me: Just lieutenants.
LT: I’d believe that.
Me: How fast could we get the score to the Odom transcription of “Short Ride in a Fast Machine,” but still have the shipping cost less than the score itself?
Dealer: Ooh, that’s a new one.
Me: Well, the person who wants it is also the budget officer.
Are you getting enough Sarah?