I'm realizing that I've never given notice at a real job. I don't know how it's done!
Oh, I bet we can come up with a few suggestions. Many may involve the word FUCKOS.
Now I did a job. I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mention more than a few unkind words as regard to my character so let me make this abundantly clear. I do the job. And then I get paid.
Mal ,'Serenity'
Natter 43: I Love My Dead Gay Whale Crosspost.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Dana - Mar 28, 2006 8:35:32 am PST #6685 of 10001
I'm terrifically busy with my ennui.
§ ita § - Mar 28, 2006 8:35:44 am PST #6686 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.
Walk into your boss's office, say, "I quit from thee, I quit from thee, I quit from thee," and then dump potato salad on his shoes.
Or, "Hey! I do know how to quit you!"
it's the very literal act of removing an undergarment from your brand-new wife *in front of a crowd* and then throwing the undergarment to a pack of guys.
Hmm. It seems that should bother me, but it doesn't. I like raunchy weddings (maybe I won't invite my parents to mind) and although there are no formalised ways to sex up the groom, that can be rectified in an ad hoc fashion.
Jessica - Mar 28, 2006 8:36:24 am PST #6687 of 10001
And then Ortus came and said "It's Ortin' time" and they all Orted off into the sunset
I've only been to one wedding with a garter toss, and it was a lot of fun and not skeevy at all -- I think it depends on the attitude of the people involved. (It ended up being one of our college friends catching the garter, and the bride's sister catching the bouquet, and so of course they were mercilessly teased for the rest of the evening. All in good fun.)
§ ita § - Mar 28, 2006 8:36:49 am PST #6688 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.
the whole "our friends will have a screw pantomime on the dance floor" seems pretty obvious to me.
God, I feel dense--what's this?
eta: Never mind--you mean the putting on of the garter, don't you?
Steph L. - Mar 28, 2006 8:37:07 am PST #6689 of 10001
I look more rad than Lutheranism
and then the day after you get married you can make an offer on a house.
No shit, man. I mean, I want all y'all to come party with me if I ever get married, but I'd much rather get married in my back yard, in a $100 dress, and take the $30,000 for a house. (Or crystal meth. Whatever.)
Um, no. Not unless I get to make my husband strip in front of the crowd and then take off his undergarments.
Which I would totally support you in, should you decide to go that route (or the marriage route at all) one day. IJS.
But what if I marry a fat hairy guy with enormous manboobs?
msbelle - Mar 28, 2006 8:38:08 am PST #6690 of 10001
I remember the crazy days. 500 posts an hour. Nubmer! Natgbsb
I like raunchy weddings
yikes.
tommyrot - Mar 28, 2006 8:38:11 am PST #6691 of 10001
Sir, it's not an offence to let your cat eat your bacon. Okay? And we don't arrest cats, I'm very sorry.
Potato salad with mayonnaise or vinegar dressing?
Mayo. Thus leading to the tradition of the boss going home shortly after the ritual to avoid having his shoes go bad....
Steph L. - Mar 28, 2006 8:38:16 am PST #6692 of 10001
I look more rad than Lutheranism
the whole "our friends will have a screw pantomime on the dance floor" seems pretty obvious to me.
God, I feel dense--what's this?
The Electric Slide.
(Not really.)
Nora Deirdre - Mar 28, 2006 8:38:35 am PST #6693 of 10001
I’m responsible for my own happiness? I can’t even be responsible for my own breakfast! (Bojack Horseman)
the whole "our friends will have a screw pantomime on the dance floor" seems pretty obvious to me.
God, I feel dense--what's this?
Ooh, is it the Macarena?
Or the Wedding Lambada: The Forbidden Electric Slide ?
Rick - Mar 28, 2006 8:40:56 am PST #6694 of 10001
The Olaf Olafson thing became unwieldy
Yes, it's still very unwieldy in Iceland. At least at the last time I was there, the phone book was still alphabetized by firstnames, because the lastnames had little meaning. Imagine having to wade through all of the Jennifers in town to find the one you are looking for. And, of course, Jennifer has a different lastname than her parents and her children.
Actually, the Jennifer list in Reykjavik is probably pretty small, but you know what I mean.