Fond Memories of MOPs AdOps

Back in the day, we had a client named Carol who had an administrative assistant named Rowshawnda. Roshawnda was tall enough to play basketball except she probably would have made a better sumo wrestler. She squished into her cubicle the same way a dozen muffins fit inside your lunch box.

Rowshawnda had a fashion trademark. She always wore spiked high heels. She went out on disability after the excessive psi (pounds/square inch) of her footfall punctured a hole right through the commercial-grade carpeting and ensnared her shoe in the subfloor. She twisted her ankle as a result.

Soon after Rowshawnda's return to work, Carol asked us to create a PowerPoint presentation that was to be burned onto a CD and sent out to high-profile physicians nationwide. Carol asked us to email the finished file to Roshawnda; Rowshawnda would send the file out to the CD duplicator.

We followed instructions exactly, but the following week, we got a frantic phone call from Carol. There was a problem with the CD. It wasn't our fault, but Carol had always been kind of high strung. She blew out the earpiece on my new headset.

Burned onto all 5000 CDs, right next to our PPT file, was a picture of Roshawnda. She was an enormous, puffy confection in her frilly, feathery, white wedding dress and matching headpiece. Her hammy arms draped around her skinny little groom in a light blue tux. All of the high-powered physicians in the country got to see Rowshawnda on her wedding day.

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Brain Freeze

On Friday in the refridgerator, a lime green brain jiggled on the top shelf. There was a sign that said, "Don't touch my brain."

Later, I saw someone cavorting outside my office with the brain on a platter. I was making a phone call and completely lost my train of thought.

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