Out. Of. Office. Wish.

So, another weekend has blinked by and we have returned to the never-ending Monday.

All of us that is, except for those that have taken this week OFF. As in “out of the office”, “So long, suckas! See you in a week!”, “Leave a message at the tone, but don’t expect a call back for a whole, l-o-n-g, freakin’ seven days, bay-bee!”

If I were out of the office this week (I am not) I would leave the following tasteful, yet fully comprehensive message:

“For those of you unfortunate enough to be chained to your desks still at the office this week, I would like to inform you that I am not even in the general vicinity of mine. I am not even within the same state as my desk, which unbeknownst to our illustrious President and CEO, Mr. Stevens, still holds the projected figures for the final quarter of risk analysis pursuant to the contracts signed on July 3rd, when said Mr. Stevens signed said contract whilst under the influence of approximately 4 margaritas and 2 airline-sized bottles of vodka stashed in the second right hand drawer of his desk.”

“As a matter of fact, this employee happens to know that Mr. Stevens signed said contracts whilst under the desk itself…but he was not alone at the time and had a certain someone’s buttocks from payroll to use as a…ahem…resting place with which to sign said 17.2 million dollar contract. Not only does Mr. Stevens have no recollection of signing the aforementioned contract, but this employee temporarily misplaced it under the latest issue of Vogue, a flyer for a 1-day sale at Macy’s and an expose in the New York Times on how some unscrupulous blog has been using photoshopped images of weed whackers and claiming they’re metal detectors to launder illegal magnets and “surprise gifts” as prizes for identifying these fraudulent images, "awarding them" through distant familial connections, therefore creating a “circle web of deception” returning said merchandise to the original owner. If found guilty, said blogger could receive the maximum sentence of $43.75 in compensatory damages and 2 years under house arrest, chained to a steel chair in front of a 12” black & white teevee playing nothing but the Beverly Hillbillies…24/7. No further information is known at this time.” (No Twinkies will be served, Julia.)

“As for me, I’m at an undisclosed location….and will stay here until I get the ‘ALL CLEAR’ from my un-named source down in marketing, as to whether:

• Mr. Stevens found said contract and was able to somehow save the deal
• The results come back on the pregnancy test on that chick from payroll
• Whether I have to enter the witness protection program to avoid that crazy-photoshopping-weed-whacking-maniac from that blog that’s probably gotta hit out on me. (I think I read somewhere she’s got a cousin named Vinnie…and we all know what that means.)

So, you can leave a message. Or not. Although, I probably wouldn’t. Vinnie’s probably on his way to your place right now.