I’m Mortified. February 1, 2012

Y’all – I completely embarrassed myself.

My phone, Svetlana, hates me.  She sends auto-corrected texts that get me in trouble, eats voicemails and erases texts before I see them.  PIC is usually the recipient of her wrath.  PIC laughs about it and doesn’t judge.  My mortifying moment? Not to PIC.  Rather, it’s a guy I’d rather love to impress.

Note: I’m not sure what name to give this guy, but I have a feeling he’s going to be in the blog more often. Until I come up with a real name for him, we’ll stick with B.

I was working on a work project and mentioned the lack of office equipment I had to do my job.  And then it all went to hell. 

Me: I miss my awesome orifice equipment…

B: What equipment did you have for your orifice?

Me: Idk…a faster printer for one

silence for a moment, then I read what I texted

Me: Oh no! I’m sorry! I meant office!!!  Damn Svetlana!

B: Hahaha. It’s ok, I enjoyed it.

So blogland, B is officially in the “I was attacked by Svetlana” club.  I think I should make t-shirts.  My friends should get something out of the deal right?

Back to work I go…. with shoddy orifice equipment.

 

 

Really Svetlana? I hate you. October 4, 2011

My dear reader knows that my phone hates me.  It retaliates with a vengeance at the most inopportune times.

I have decided to name my phone.  Something that is female (she is bitchy and has a proclivity to talk about vaginas – go ahead and click on that link – it was a good story); something that is kind of bad ass (she knows no shame and speaks her mind).  I have landed upon Svetlana.

I’ve already established that I am not working any more today.  My co-worker feels the same.  The first sign was that she used the sentence “And by WTF, I really mean, that’s what you probably want to say.” This got my attention, so I texted her….and then Svetlana happened.

Me: Dude.  Did you just use the phrase WTF in conversation with a college kid?

Coworker: Yes.  Yes I did because honestly, this sucks balls.

Me: Yeah, I’m kinda over this whole portal mess.

Coworker: No shit.

Me: That is one reason I’m procreating as much as possible today.

Coworker: Nice.

Me: You should try it.

Coworker: Nah. I’d rather just sit here and play on facebook.

Me: I’m doing that too.

Coworker: Poor guy, does he know you aren’t paying attention?

Me: Sweet baby moses.  I’m sorry.  I meant procrastinate.  I don’t procreate at work.

Coworker: I was afraid to look into your desk area to verify, but I was pretty sure that was what you meant.

Me: #$%!^WTF Svetlana.  I hate you.

Coworker: Who is Svetlana.  I hate her too.

Me: My phone.

Coworker: Svetlana sounds like someone that likes to procreate at work.

Me: I’m putting her in my purse, so that won’t happen.

Coworker: Sveltana sounds like someone that would like to be put in the dark.

Me: Damn it. Svetlana will go on my desk and sit under the post it notes until she finishes her time out.

Coworker: Word. Get that bitch.

Phones have their own mind July 29, 2011

If you have any auto-complete feature on your cellphone, you know that most of the time what you type and what the phone THINKS you type are very different.  Well, at least in my case.  Perhaps I have illiterate thumbs.  Or evil thumbs out to get me.  Regardless, I find humor in the discrepancies as long as I proofread before I send.  I will share them with you as they happen.

It says: “I loud forward sadist”

I mean: “I look forward to Saturday”

If my phone was clever and educated, perhaps it would have inserted some commas and the 1st person singular present indicative of be.  Unfortunately my phone is a hillbilly, or else this would have been some prime comedy.