Friday, February 10, 2006
I'll bring back some Egyptian beer for you. Did you know the guys who built the pyramids were alotted a liter a day? I think that's right...
Oh mannnnnnnnnnn oh mannnnnnnnnn.

You know that crying lady I've written about before? The lady whose voice is so staggered and weird that she sounds as if her husband just fucked her son and then burned down the house while raping the family dog?

She came down here today with a file the size of a phone book, and started babbling in her weird, weird way about how she found a breifcase and searched the name online and she thinks it's old and valuable but no one will listen to her and then she pressed the file into our hands and told us to "crack the case."

So the other researcher told her it'd be best to go through our supervisor, since it's not really work-related, and she was like—"well, I found the briefcase during work hours, on a trip. So there you go. That's work-related."

Anyway, I have this file sitting on my bookshelf, and I don't know what to do with it.

The reason I'm thinking of this now is that I just heard her down the hall, in an exchange that went like this:

her: "…and then….they dr…ag you be….fore…their panel and acc….use you of selling comp…any laptops….and … tear you ap…art"

him: "I really don't know anything about—"

her: "…well….I don't know…if I believe you….but they tear you ap….art…and say you've been….stealing laptops…and it's not fair…and they want me to….admit…"

What the fuck is going on here? I need a new job.

. . .

As some of you know, I am gone this weekend, to a time-traveling convention in 640 BC Egypt. I've left themed boobytraps in my room, such as a swarm of malaria-ridden mosquitoes.

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