Blast from the Past

So there hasn’t been much written and so I thought I would do a recap of some old posts. These are not my favorite or the best, but just a few that gave me a smile for whatever reason. I’ll probably do this again later so if you have any favorites just keep reading and they might find their way into this segment I call “Blast from the Past.”

people who don't pay me for the new food stuff suck

$2 of your hard-earned lucre should be mine, and if you don't give me that cash you will forever be on the poop list.
That's right, the poop list. It's up on the fridge.
Pay me.
Now.

I love you all.

o. . .whaddya do?

I like people. I like talking to people. I like it when people come and talk to me at the desk. (Also, if I type the word "people" enough times, it starts to look weird to me.) But when friends (or acquaintances) (or people) come up and talk to you at the desk, but they stay too long, what do you do? It's awkward to say, "Hey, sorry, I can't talk to you anymore, I've got to. . .sit here. . .and watch people. . .uh. . .yeah. . ." There's no easy way out. It's just awkward.

I mean, some people just don't get it that we're not here for them to talk to. We have a job to do, people, even if it doesn't look like we're doing anything. So how do you get rid of them nicely? How do you get them to stop leaning on the desk, lingering, blocking the view of other, potentially dangerous people?

A Ring

So there I was just West Deskin' it and keeping my eye out for any costume totin' freaks trying to enter the library. As I was doing this normal task on that ever uneventful Friday I watched as three female patrons were leavin' the library. Deciding they were posing no threat to books, building, or myself I decided to move on and watch others who could be a little more suspicious. Just then I heared one of the patrons previously mentioned cry out "DANG, A RING." As I turned my head to see what the outburst was about I noticed she was noticing the white gold hammered ring I proudly tote on my left ring finger (and not just so I can remember which hand is my left). The patron who came about a year too late is one of many who I have sent home in complete and utter despair. Yea to the ring and the girl who gave it too me!...who I am proud to say is envied by many.

ADIO KEYING FOR DUMMIES

ol from Rove.

ahead.

ving the 2nd floor new.

4. Did you remember to close the dock?

time was that at?

teen hundred.

gone there yet, but I will.

ber the 6th floor doors, too.

4.

ister still a virgin?

ell did you just say?

egard that last message, please.

Library Security From Dispatch...

Oh, Let Me Count The Ways...

West, I love you. I worship you. But sometimes I'd rather be doing something else... ok, anything else. Run for president, give every Tuesday devotional, visit every climb, penetrate every continent, sound in every ear, bowl a 300, shoot 8 under par, obtain a BCS bid, become a Harry Potter character, replace Gary Crowton, squeegee skyscraper windows, undermine coup d'etatses, sell out Carnegie Hall, quash midget rebellions, anchor the tug-of-war, send text messages, harness cold fusion, floss thrice daily, cut paper snowflakes, dominate wheel chair basketball, eat shrimp fried rice, shoe horses, reap the sown, fell trees, water fake house plants, dispose of rechargable batteries properly, investigate illegal window tintings, diagnose carpal-tunnel syndrome, enjoy a cool refreshing Pepsi, pluck rampant unibrows, chant mantras, make dashboard confessionals, get a Brazilian wax, sun jaudice, spoon under water, annul hasty Vegas weddings, rebuke butt-less chaps, bombard obstreperous sugar gliders, repeatedly throw up dog food...

Some Books and a Man

This is a tale of a different kind, about some books and a silly guy.

Once a man came to the library, and stopped at the desk of security.

"I'm returning these books to you Mr. Security," he said. "For my name is Jim McGee."

I don't want you to return them to me, I don't want them Jim McGee.

"Would you take them in a box, would you take them with ten bucks?"

I don't want them in a box, I don't want them with ten bucks.
I don't want them returned to me, I don't want them Jim McGee.

"Would you take them with my house would you take them from my mouth?"

I wont take them or your house, I don't want them from your mouth,
you're sick, you're sick Jim McGee, get those books away from me.

"Would you take them from Halle Berry, if I said she thought you are hairy?"

I wont take them from Halle Berry, especially if she thinks I'm hairy.
I wont take them can't you see, I don't want them Jim McGee.

"Not even if I wrote in them, what if I gave them to you spitten in?"

Everyone dose that everyday, but I wont take them anyway.
I don't want them Jim McGee, I just wont take them, can't you see?
I don't want them from a box, I wont take them with ten bucks,
I wont take them or your house, and certainly not from your mouth,
I wont take them from Halle Berry even if I am hairy,
I just wont take them Jim McGee, not from you or her or anybody.

"What if I stamped them as you do, what if I stamped them all for you."

Well yes, yes I'll take them Jim McGee, I will take them certainly.

So he stamped all the books, all hundred thousand about hooks.
And ends the tale of Jim McGee and some fool security guard who should have
taken the house when it was offered.

This story has been provided for your pointless entertainment. It will now
keep you busy for hours as you wonder what I was smoking when I wrote this.
But I think it was actually due to a dream I had after eating a bowl of my
grandmothers chili.