That’s a Bad Papa!

Oooooooh, waily waily, curse you, Papa John!  You know your pizza encourages me to eat garlic sauce until I smell like Van Helsing and have intense gastrointestinal unhappiness, but you continue to bring it to me anyways!  And to send me a postcard for a free pizza?  For SHAME!  But it was really good, and Callie Jean says “send more chicken.”

For the fourth day in a row, I have had to go up the creepy stairs at work to wake up one of the computers I need for my network (I wish I was kidding, I really do).  Now, number one, stairs are not anywhere near the top of my list of favorite things… especially stairs like these ones which are a little too tall or tilted or something and make you feel like you’re going to pitch off them at any moment.  Also, I only have 2 methods of judging distance: “Too far” and “Close enough”  and upstairs is definitely “too far.” 

But the worstest part is, everybody I work with says the upstairs is haunted, and as we all know, I work in the wee — read DARK — hours of the morning.  So the last thing I want to do is start off my day with a Ghost Adventure, and there’s no one in the building to save me if I were to get ectoplasmically attacked.  The tales range from somebody having a heart attack to a DJ HANGING HIMSELF in the storage room, so there’s really no good option.

So, I must conclude that this constant stairclimbing is some kind of plot — either to get me killed by ghosts or make me lose weight.  I’m not sure which is worse, but then I am still high on garlic sauce and chicken.



Filed under Calpurnia Jean, La Vida Loca, Random Thoughts

12 responses to “That’s a Bad Papa!

  1. eep scary stuff the DJ HUNG his/her self? For real, hell you couldn’t pay me enough to tread those stairs *shudder*
    I know what you mean about the garlic I’ll order garlic pizza with garlic dipping sauce and spicy sausage and pay for it the next day, plus every time D swoops in for a kiss he turns green and nearly hurls on me hehehe I have to say that only drives me to order extra pots of garlic sauce.


  2. Climbing the stairs makes more room for that glorious Papa John’s. Love their pizza and garlic sauce.


  3. 🙂 Thanks for the early-morning laugh!

    I’ve added you to my blogroll. No, no, no need to thank me — just ship me a beer. No. Two — three beers.

    Three beers.

    Happy Thursday!



  4. Oh no fair, I am IT support and I work in an boring old office building where live people are idiots but sadly no dead people. I have much office space envy.


    • this is the only IT guy I’ve ever had to deal with that you actually need MORE support after you deal with him than you did before! The saying around the building is “He couldn’t fix a sandwich.”


  5. Dear Sweet Mama

    Waily waily – Papa John’s does not deliver to my house but does advertise – no fair. And I think I have a ghost of the guy who used to live here – since he died, every now and then I think I smell cigarette smoke.


    • If I am ever a senator or what have you, I’m going to make it a law that restaurants can’t advertise in areas where they don’t have locations. They also can’t run their ads after they’ve closed for the night, and they can’t run breakfast ads when they’re only serving lunch or vice-versa. Don’t blame me, I don’t make the rules… wait. Yes, yes I do.


  6. Dude, you should totally take some garlic sauce with you to work and fling it as you run up the stairs screaming “THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!” I don’t know what good it’ll do, but it sure would be funny and that’s what matters.


    • At least then, if the ghost tried to sneak up and get me, I would smell the garlic sauce and be all like, “I know you’re there, Evil Monkey!” and it would give up and go away. But are we sure this isn’t a flagrant waste of garlic sauce?


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