Fun_People Archive
1 Jun
My stigmata's acting up

Date: Wed,  1 Jun 94 10:57:34 PDT
To: Fun_People
Subject: My stigmata's acting up

Forwarded-by: <dante@microsoft.com>
Forwarded-by: Eric Myers <ericmy@microsoft.com>
|<<forwards are still at home>>

I found these in the Sunday, April 14, 1994 edition of the Washington 
Post.  It was a contest in which readers were asked to come up with 
excuses to miss a day of work:

			-- < ----- > --

If it is all the same to you I won't be coming in to work.  The voices 
told me to clean all the guns today.

When I got up this morning I took two Ex-Lax in addition to my Prozac.  
I can't get off the john, but I feel good about it.

I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour and the other half back 
an hour Saturday and spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time 
continuum loop, reliving Sunday (right up until the explosion).  I was 
able to exit the loop olny by reversing the polarity of the power 
source exactly e*log(pi) clocks in the house while simultaneously 
rapping my dog on the snout with a rolled up Times.  Accordingly, I 
will be in late, or early.

My stigmata's acting up.

I can't come in to work today because I'll be stalking my previous 
boss, who fired my for not showing up for work.  OK?

I have a rare case of 48-hour projectile leprosy, but I know we have 
that deadline to meet. . .

I am stuck in the blood pressure machine down at the Giant.

Yes, I seem to have contracted some attention-deficit disorder and, 
hey, how about them Skins, huh?  So, I won't be able to, yes, could I 
help you?  No, no, I'll be sticking with Sprint, but thank you for calling.

Constipation has made me a walking time bomb.

I just found out that I was switched at birth.  Legally, I shouldn't 
come to work knowing my employee records may now contain false information.

The psychiatrist said it was an excellent session.  He even gave me 
this jaw restraint so I won't bite things when I am startled.

The dog ate my car keys.  We're going to hitchhike to the vet.

I prefer to remain an enigma.

My mother-in-law has come back as one of the Undead and we must track 
her to her coffin to drive a stake through her heart and give her 
eternal peace.  One day should do it.

I can't come to work today because the EPA has determined that my house 
is completely surrounded by wetlands and I have to arrange for 
helicopter transportation.

I am converting my calendar from Julian to Gregorian.

I am extremely sensitive to a rise in the interest rates.

My wife makes more money than I do, so I have to stay at home with our 
sick son.

I refuse to travel to my job in the District until there is a commuter 
tax. I insist on paying my fair share.

I'm feeling a little disgruntled this morning.  You want I should come in?

I can't come in because the deadline is Monday and so far I only have 
seven different fun things to do with a barrel of snot.

			-- < ----- > --

© 1994 Peter Langston