Because people asked for it, and other post topics weren’t ready yet, we have the weekly quote log. In it, I hope to prove there is a method to our madness, or at least a downbeat.
To the tune of “I Think We’re Alone Now”
“Are you, ‘typing just as fast as you can?’”
There are groans but no other response.
“Oh com’on. ‘I think we’re all done now. There doesn’t seem to be any more to ty-pe.”
Checking an AWOL employee’s calendar:
“February 23 – ‘Dead in a ditch.’ Well, he planned that out well.”
“And he doesn’t have anything planned after that, so at least he didn’t leave anyone hanging.”
“You’re an electrical engineer (minor) and you say cooking is complicated?”
“It is!”
“Haven’t you seen Einstein’s unfinished cookie theorem?”
This is never good:
“My Rico Suave points are down.”
On being unable to participate in a conversation:
“I don’t spend a lot of time shopping at lingerie stores.”
“No, he goes in, grabs what he wants, and gets out.”
An accurate, yet unlikely prediction:
“I swear to God, if you go to prison, you’re going to get shived.”
On circling, vulture-like behavior:
“Stop looting. I haven’t even left yet.”
Reading over the shoulder:
“I’m a big doofus.”
“Did I spell ‘doofus’ wrong?”
“He didn’t say that.”
“I’m paraphrasing.”
“Then take it out of quotes.”
“Did you start that riot like I asked?”
The reporter nods affirmatively.
“Good man.”
To the beat of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hm, hmmm.”
“We’re not starting a round!”
Musical cues spread:
“She’s infecting us all. It’s like Ebola, only more lyrical.”
“‘In the Ghetto…’ I told you it was contagious.”
“I’m going to start singing Barry Manilow songs; and to warn you, I’m really good at Copacabana.”
“And the musical Cold War begins to heat up.”
Questions about comments over the police scanner:
“Did they say ‘terrorist organization number?’”
“Hi. I’m with the Local 555.”
One of those days:
“I’m going on a five-minute walk outside.”
“But it’s raining.”
“Three minutes.”
On cultural genders:
“Some Native American tribes had one sexes… I mean, more than two.”
“I assumed I knew what you meant… They have two now? That’s awesome.”
“I want my own state park.”
“There’s a Caleb Smith State Park.”
“Well, whoop de doo!”
During a stressful day, someone starts to eye a letter opener:
“Can I borrow that? It may be bloody when I give it back.”
“Wyoming has two seasons: Winter and construction.”
After repeated calls:
“Beep, beep, beep, beeeeep…”
“Look, I know you’re a fax machine, but stop calling this number.”
Because you don’t want to be associated with some good deeds:
“What’s this?”
“It’s a cell phone I found.”
“Just turn it in, or leave it on the counter that says ‘This is a bomb.’”
“‘Signed, Zac Wiggy.’”
More developments in the relationship between local government and the press:
“They’re getting together to declare March 15 Anti-Justin Day.”
“Cool! I’ll mark my calendar. ‘Beware the Ides of March.’”
said...
Hola Caleb. There is a mystery and you seem to know some information. I'm going to have to question you about this:
"Hey I dunno yew but yew seem kool maybe we can talk sometime <3 YA KRISITN DEANN XOX KAY KAY"
Posted 3/23/2006 at 8:31 PM by LilmamaKristinDeann
You seem to know something about that. Which is more than I know. Any insight you have would greatly help this investigation.
- Inspector West
Caleb Michael said...
Cory, in regards to your website, I read your latest post (and the comments) shortly after the so-called "KRISITN DEANN" made her comment. I linked to her profile to find what I believe to be a site maintained by a giggly teenager with a stated interest in cheerleading, gymnastics and boys.
Her most recent post referenced the "not my boyfriend yet," Daniel.
It seems since I responded to her comment, she has shut down her Xanga space, thus leading to the mystery you have alluded to. I hope this helps.