Turn Off Your Mind Relax and Float Downstream

Well, the workshop went pretty much exactly like I thought it would. Lots of nodding and chin stroking from the boot lick brothers Brian and Troy. Courtney, the badger from accounting sat next to me in the back where we swapped doodles and notes. Maurice "inner child" Trendelbaugh sat on the edge of a table that was covered with...guess what. Books written by Maurice Trendelbaugh! Yesterday Troy tried to make everyone in the office buy a copy of "Priming the pump of your inner child" An oddly disturbing title with a picture of Maurice! in a diaper holding the keys to a ferrari in one hand and a wad of cash in the other while smoking a cigar. Stan said Troy couldn't make any of us buy the book. Troy said he could. We didn't. Whatcha gonna do about it company man? There was the predictable yammering about "paradigm shifts" and "thinking outside the box" and all the tiresome aphorisms and attendant woes that come with this sort of drivel. My opinion of Steve did go up a couple of notches when he said with a completely straight face. "My uncle thought outside the box once... He's dead now." Pure comedy gold. Maurice! was oblivious of course and was treating this repackaged '70s pop psychology like it was revolutionary. Lots of ambiguous categories and numbers. you know..."The 7 paths of the 3 modes of the 12 inferences...That kind of crap. Later on this week, we're doing something called guided imagery. Maybe I'll be able to skip out and guide myself down to PDQ Whistlestops for some nachos and brewskis. Uncle Paul likes this one Ajerbaijani lager called !KruK! Don't know if I'm brave enough.

Penny Updates

Penny Updates

Maurice!

I'm going to wax poetic here for a moment.



Usually every family or genus has, what some of us call, a unique P.O.P. ..a point of pride. The giraffe has it's long elegant neck. The lark, it's song. The bat, exotic echolocation. The duck billed platypus, an oddish snout that transmits and recieves an electrical field that locates and stuns it's prey. And us elephants, well you can surely guess what our P.O.P is. You can joke about the weather. you can joke about sex. You can even joke about a guy's mom. (a touchier subject for us mammals than for others) but don't and NEVER mess with a fella's P.O.P. Period. Which brings me to Mr. Trendelbaugh...Maurice. The tarsier and pep talk guru who is here, in his own words, to Rock Our World. So he's making the rounds meeting everyone in this super fake friendly way. Troy and Brian are embarrassing themselves fauning over this fresh little steaming turd in an ascot and double breasted maroon blazer like he's Charles freakin' Nelson fraggin' Reilly. So this twit comes up to me and with his voice forced an octave lower than natural for his species, ala George takai. He has the gall to put out his hand and say, and I quote. "So what am I supposed to shake here big guy." I froze. Gee I don't know...champ. Beats me chief. Ya got me, tiger. What I'm hearing is California-over-easy-mellow and what I'm looking at is the face of a guy who ate a whole sheet of blotter acid and watched the surgery channel for 72 hours straight. The effect...cognitive dissonance. Bigtime. He's brought an entourage of five ass-kissing sycophants who delight in every fart and burp he makes. Oh, he came in a giant tour bus with "Maurice!" written in huge cursive letters on the side. My first session starts this afternoon. I can't wait.