Bill's Tee Shirt Idea

I was sitting at my desk, googling the phrase "Piping Plovers Taste Like Chicken" -wondering if there are any decent recipes posted on the web. I had a dozen frozen carcasses in the freezer - a gift from an appreciative landfill customer.

When Bill came through the door of the FEMA trailer that I call my office, I was surprised. He was wearing surgical gloves and a mask to protect him from the dangerous bacteria that lurked everywhere. I wasn't surprised at his outfit; I was not expecting him. he had not showed up for work ever since he heard about the asbestos contamination in FEMA trailers. (I figure what the hell - we got it for nothing. And you gotta die of something...)

"Who's here today?" Bill asked looking warily toward Lardass's chair. He took off his wet coat and sort of threw it at a hook. The coat made a wet mark on the wall and slid to the floor.

"Nobody," I replied, "Nobody wants to work in the rain. They all called-in "not-available" already."


"It's fucking raining torrents out there."

"So, what are you doing here?" I didn't mention the fact that he had never been re-hired and has not recieved a paycheck in years.

He took off his mask so I could see him grinning. "I have an idea."
Ever the master on non-verbal communication, I rolled my eyes and nodded for him to get on with it.
"I have a new slogan: we need to get T-shirts and hats that say, "I enjoy a good dump"




"You dolt!" I shouted. "Clooney had that idea years ago, but someone else already had the patent on it. "
"No - his slogan was 'I'm Down in the Dumps' it was about computer memory printouts or something like that."

"Whatever. It's already been used. Goodbye. " I turned back to my Google searching.



Deflated, with limp sails, Bill picked up his coat and headed out the door.
"But.."
"OUT!" I yelled.
Finally, he was gone.

I thought to myself, I really ought to get rid of Bill, he's way too obsessed with shit. I remember one time when he mentioned that as a student at BU he had taken a course in Scatology. When I asked him how he did in that course he said "I got an incomplete; I didn't turn in my feces."

But, how the heck can you fire some who you already fired two years ago?

Back from my Travels

In case you haven't noticed, I've been away for the past six weeks on my world dump tour.

I felt almost like a stranger as I drove the trusty old Hummer through the RDF gates this morning. It was good to be back, to see the gang again. Perhaps in my absence they had learned to appreciate me - or at least respect my leadership.

Anyone who has visited the dump in the past is well aware of my management challenges.

Clooney - Pedantic, arrogant and elitist. An Ivy League Frat Boy who once worked on Wall Street. He is alleged to have caused several men and a chimpanzee to commit suicide. His main contribution is to question my every decision and correct every little gramitical or speling misteak.

Bill - hypochondriac, germophobic, and a complainer. He was once a creative genius but gave it up to raise horses and weeds on a farm with his "wife." He calls in sick if he thinks someone else is sick. He won't sit in a seat that Lardass has used without wiping it down with purelle.

Lardass - a large doughy fellow with a high tolerance for grime and a disturbing case of gingivitis. Often accompanied by a lingering noisome miasma due to his nonexistent hygiene and poor sense of smell. Immorally analytical, he often seems to stumble into moments of remarkable lucidity. We can't tell if he is as wise as Shakespeare or dumb as a bag of rags.

Dee Two - the old new guy. Has the look and accent of an Asian, but is in fact a Canadian citizen. I used to save money by paying him in Loonies; now he is more highly paid than the others.

Achmed - The new new guy. From the Mideast. Obsequious and grateful for the job. Believes that if there is a God, he made humans mainly as entertainment to watch us fight.

This is the staff that they expect me to run the dump with. A bunch of rag tag workers who would rather sit around the office all day shooting the bull and arguing than do the work of the dump.