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December 31, 2010

We Need A Raise

The news business is a cut throat profession with wire-thin profit margins and mile-wide egos. Here at the Goomba News Network, corporate accountants recently announced a series of profit enhancing measures designed to make 2011 our best year ever.

Rhod will digitize and sell on-line access to his prodigious collection of pornographic thesauri.

DC must remove his .45-70 reloading gear from the old linotype room so the GNN cafeteria can finally install a sushi bar.

Sig94 will no longer use the costly Employee Mental Health Assistance Program in order to stop referring to himself in the third person. Really, he promised.

And Nickie will even provide the clippers so he can lease his back for GNN advertising.
Malibu Beach, here we come!


19 comments:

Christopher - Conservative Perspective said...

Good luck in those measures.

LL said...

Finally GNN is exercising some judgment in exploiting their financial potential in the coming year.

Happy New Year to all the staff, to the talent and to the throngs of admirers of GNN.

sig94 said...

Chris - we have no choice, Nickie's fourth wife just filed another palimony suit; seems she found an old vial of frozen Goomba manseed hidden by a box of clams casino at the bottom of her FreezerQueen.

sig94 said...

LL - it's either that or we go back to selling GNN plasma at the Sandusky Blood Depot.

Nickie Goomba said...

Rhod... Of course we need raises, but the accountants are wrong yet again.

1. Nobody even understands your ancient pornographic vocabulary. Do you remember how that waitress at the Koffee Kup reacted to you regularly scribbling lines from Chaucer on the bill? Are you looking for more restraining orders? Don't you miss the $1.99 special?

2. I have no problem with a sushi bar, but the accountants also insisted we use local fish. Crappie? Sunfish? Catfish? I don't think so.

3. Siggie must continue the mental health treatments. All of them. Don't you remember the whole conga-line-at-gunpoint episode? And, let's be honest. His whole pantless Wednesdays fetish doesn't exactly increase productivity.

4. I'm not shaving ads into my back hair again. The last three time we tried it, we made zero. Nada. Bupkis. It didn't help sales of Lipton Soup nor Pennzoil. And the whole Tillamook cheese campaign was doomed from the beginning.

Rhod, the answer is "no". Keep pouring oil into your Ford Falcon and just count your blessings.

Rhod said...

I'm counting. I own a monitor-top ice box, a wringer washer hooked up to my bath tub, a marbelized bakelite fountain pen with "Taft Hotel" embossed on it, a pair of my Dad's two-tone wingtips, a little plaster souvenir bear from the Mohawk Trail (1949), my classic 1960 Falcon, and the clothes on my back.

The rest of the stuff was here when I moved in. This isn't the life you and DC promised me.

As for Chaucer, he added over 1000words to the English language, among them "erect" and "voluptuousness", "novelty" and "moisture", and expressions like "hard as iron". Porn, huh?

All I wrote for the waitress was "So was hir jolly whistle wel y wet" from The Reeve's Tale, and I'm served with a bleedin' restraining order!

Sig needs help. The lights aren't always on. But he needs at least five pairs of pants so he has one for each workday, with a zipper tag to remind him of the day. You could help a little here. Your pleats alone have enough spare material to clothe Sig for a full week.

You've gotta lotta nerve!

(I'm sorry)

sig94 said...

Nickie - you know darn well that was supposed to be the largest recorded Bunny Hop. But noooo, you had to grab that fat dental hygienist from Phoenix by the waist and start dancing around; well, there went my chance at the Guiness Record. I really liked that gun too.

sig94 said...

Rhod - we talked about this before. I just have a problem with any kind of cloth restraint after that 3 day strait jacket incident. And as long as Nickie refuses to get rid of those old decrepit "office work station" bar stools I simply refuse to squander good polyester.

Rhod said...

Sig, he won't answer. He goes mute at the slightest resistance. Anyway, he and DC are setting up the automatic chinchilla skinner as we write.

I'm on your side, Sig. Really. Try to forget the smell of wet canvas.
Please.

DC said...

Crap, I am here in Sandusky. Where are y'all?

The_Kid said...

I wish I could understand some of this stuff, but I didn't even graduate 8th grade...

Well, I'll keep trying.

sig94 said...

DC - Nickie turned off the power again and I'm stuck in the stairway! Would you call the janitor?

Trestin said...

Kid I don't think anyone understands this. However, that may be a good thing, it may have the same effect on the left that Kirk and his crew did on that planet full of robot women.

Rhod said...

Trestin, we're sending the Salt Vampire to visit you. Lay off the pork rinds for a while and it won't take long.

Rhod said...

Sig, you ARE the janitor.

Rhod said...

TK, that's farther than any of us went.

Rhod said...

DC, don't you remember? They rejected your plasma because it has a mesquite flavor. It turns recipients into Texans.

Woodsterman (Odie) said...

Rhod ... we need to talk.

The_Kid said...

Trestn, As long as Mudd's wife doesn't show up. Oh wait, she was the Speaker of the House until yesterday.