Hey, excuse me, I need to talk to someone about 401K benefits. Can you help me?
Sorry, I'm the filing clerk but the girl who does 401K is at lunch right now. You should send her an email and she'll get back to you.
See, my problem is, I'm trying to enroll but my husband doesn't want me to be in it so I need to sign up but have the billing statement go to a seperate address. I'd like 5% removed from my check.
Also, if I could have an additional 7% removed and placed into a savings account at a different bank and I'd like that to not show up on my paycheck. Also, I'd like to invest my 5% 401K into wheat.
My parents got it for me, to prepare me for being an adult.
I wish my parents trusted me like that.
Not really. The Teen Visa starts off with a maxed-out balance, a 21% interest rate, and you can't use it anywhere. It's mom and dad's version of irony.
BLAB TV now returns to "Two drunks discussing politics"
The gentrification of the big companies is causing the destructicity of jobs and unemployments to sky rocket!
Pardon my authenticity, Frank, but you're a fucking idiot. The brass ring is there, but lazy people like YOU are too lazy to grab it.
I've applicated for over 200 jobs and haven't been hired by one of them! I blame you and the people who are like you because you judge books by their covers.
Your momma. The economy is to blame for the lack of jobs and money but they're anpicipating an upswing.
I'm sorry, Travis, I don't know what came over me. I love you, man. I just wish things to go back to the way they was before.
Hey Father Mike, I'm going to go get some lunch. I'll be back in 30.
If it's God's will, you'll be back in 30.
Do you not want me to go get lunch?
No, I'm just saying that you may be back in 30 minutes or you may not be, and that will be God's will.
Do you mean I can have longer than 30 minutes for my lunch break?
If it's God's will. Although, God's will may be for you to get hit by a bus as you cross the street coming back from the Subway. Get me a meatball sub, please.
Man, this is horrible. It's like 90 degrees out here and there's people everywhere and the humidity combined with the rain is making it over 100.
It's not so bad. By using my mind to cool my body, I have a steady chill going through me and it feels like 68 degrees inside my skin.
But most of the music is terrible and all the frat boys are slam dancing to They Might be Giants.
Again, by using my mind, I make the experience enjoyable. It's all perspective, man. The bad music fades into the background, and the frats are merely expressing themselves with dance.
Man, Doug, you've got a great outlook. Let's grab a beer at the concession stand.
Excellent idea. Now you're getting the ide...Christ in a cropduster! $8.50 for piss warm beer?! You must be shitting me! I'll be kicked in the nuts by a kangeroo before I pay $8.50 for a Fosters.
Gosh, it sure was nice of them to boat us out to this deserted isle to battle all Enter the Dragon style. I enjoy trips.
Indeed. You look very familiar. You wouldn't happen to be...
Jesus? Haha, yeah, I get that all the time. Actually, my name is Jesus, but I'm not THE Jesus, the son of God. Wow! Check the view out! Boyohboy!
This is strange indeed, for my name is Jesus also, Jesus de Jesus. Two Jesuses battling for supremacy. Isn't the irony delicious?
Sure is! So's the bree at the buffet table. Boy, I can't wait to get on the island and hitting the waves. I burn easy so I need an SPF45. One time at camp...
Now I am the winner. I shall get back on the boat and enjoy a cool, refreshing Shasta. I am truly lucky as it seems this island is the last place that serves Shasta beverages.
Not so fast, Jesus De Jesus!
Holy crap! You've risin', then you really are...
No, it's merely a coincidence, but I am thankful for this ass-whipping you are about to receive.
So I was getting ready to really thump the guy, and then the sky gets all dark and lightning bolts start flying from every direction and hitting Jesus de Jesus and all that was left was ashes1.
Wow, mate, that sounds like a... I hesitate to say it...a Miracle.
Nah, probably just a coincidence.
Sure, sure. Say, how'd you get that big bump on yer forehead?
Funny, I don't remember getting a bump on my forehead. Actually, I barely remember anything. Hmm, next rounds on me!
I was on the deck of this clubhouse when I worked up the nerve to ask this girl out. She said she thought I was foul but she agreed so my batter was up.
I tried to catch her with a double play, showing her my diamond but that I also play the field, but she wasn't impressed. Her ex was there. He was a Count.
He wasn't very tall, so the Count was 3-2. I tried to show her the military units that I used to work at but the bases were loaded, we couldn't get inside. I was sure I'd struck out.
I thought I'd maybe get to second base, but the next thing I knew, we were heading to my home base. I was trying to read her signals. She said she felt safe with me.
So did you score?
No, she asked if I was pitching or catching and I balked. She must have corked her bat.
And I think we can all agree that if we accomplish this project and come in under budget, then we'll be like Jim Carrey in that one movie where he was like, "Somebody stop me!"
Ace Ventura! Man, that movie was hilarious. I spit beer out through my nose when I watched that.
I thought he was gross in that. I thought he was great in Liar, Liar, though. That was good, clean fun for the entire family.
Can you believe that he and Renee Zellwigger broke up? She was adorable in that movie where she was having a baby.
I'm a black stereotype. I say things like 'bling-bling', 'what up, boo?', and 'why you trippin'?' I'm streetwise.
I'm a white stereotype. I say things like 'infrastructure', 'mortgage', and 'what's a boo?' Man, I'm so lame.
We meet and have lots of misunderstandings based on our cultural differences. It doesn't look like we'll ever get along.
But we find common ground. I get a little hipper and use slang words meant to evoke a humorous reaction because of my inherent dorkiness.
We show everyone that we aren't so different and at the end, I make an impact in the white people's world and change my street ways, i.e. sellout.
I start dancing urbanly, affirming my streetcred but offending my white friends. Some fat white woman faints at the horror of my dancing but I don't care.
Darby's journal: August 19. I wish I had packed things to keep myself busy on the island. There's only so many ways you can alphabetize seaweed.
Things are progressing nicely with the nice rock I met the other day. I'm having dinner with her parents Friday. If all goes well, she could be Mrs. Sedimentary Dillman.
Holy smokes, something's washed up on the shore. It looks like a big crate! Wait until I tell the trees what I found!
So, George, that's the tour of the place. Welcome aboard. I won't lie to you, the job's shitty. It's low pay, long hours, dirty and greasy, but with benefits.
With benefits?
George's flashback to last summer.
So I think we should break up, George, but we should remain friends, you know, friends with benefits.
With benefits?
???
Benefits! Oh I get it. Boy, this job is going to be sweet. When do you want to start 'benefitting'?
Me, the magic dragon, lived by the sea, and frolicked in the autumn mist...boy, I sure could go for a frolic in the autumn mist right now. Think I'll put on my trunks and...
Waitaminute...today's August 20th...my birthday...I'm 40 years old today.
Happy August 20th, 2003, Kitty. Any plans for the day?
Oh, I thought I'd lay in the sun, maybe stretch...wait. Did you say that it was August 20, 2003? Oh dear...
It's my fortieth birthday. I've come to take you up on our little deal.
Oh, Puff, we made that deal a long time ago. Surely, you didn't think...
We agreed in middle school that if neither of us were married by the time we were forty that we'd marry each other. I'm not married, you're not married...
But I have a home, and a life, and an owner who rubs my ears and gives me milk...
Yeah, about that owner of yours...*urp*...say, you wouldn't happen to have an antacid laying around, would ya?
So you haven't opened the box up to see what's in it yet? How exciting? Isn't that exciting, Frank? Why haven't you opened it yet, Darby?
I'm scared. I've been on this island so long that it's hard for me to know what's real or not. I don't want to get my hopes up and then have it turn out to be nothing.
Just to show how important you are to me, Sedementary, I've dragged the box all the way over to your part of the island to open it in front of you. Holy shit! It's a raft! I'm free! I'm free!
Yeah for us! We're free! We're going to finally get off this stinking island!
Darby's Journal 08/21/03: Sedementary is giving me the silent treatment. I suppose I must go it alone. Besides, she weighs approximately 3 tons. I like 'em heavy, sure, but 3 tons? I must sail alone.
Darby's Journal 08/22/03: I found that the box that washed ashore was, in fact, real. I thought at first it was an inflatable raft, but blew it up to find it was a child's pool toy, a Safety Donkey.
I blew them all up in the hopes that one might be a raft, but none were. I did find out one important fact, though: the Chinese will make an inflatable anything.