misAdventures of Workmonkey 3.0

As the holidays are rapidly approaching, I must make my annual plea to the American people to stop sending Christmas cards or Happy Holiday emails signed by anyone other than the person who wrote the card or email. Each year I'll get a fair amount of cards or emails from people wishing me the best this holiday season. I have no problem with that. It is actually quite nice. I have a problem when the card or email is signed with something other than a person's name. For instance, I'll receive a Christmas card wishing me a Merry Christmas, and it will be signed by "The Franklin Family". Now, I want to be clear on this point. The Franklin Family did not write the card. Someone in the Franklin family wrote it (98% chance is was the mom). There is an even higher percentage of chance that the rest of the family had no idea the mom even sent that card out. And they certainly didn't see it, buy it, or write in it, so how the hell can they sign it? I'd much rather the card be signed "Meredith Franklin," as she was the one who wrote it. "The Franklin Family" should not take credit for a card that was sent by one member of the family. And frankly, I am guessing the father and children could really give a shit about how my Christmas goes, which is most likely why I didn't recieve any cards from them personally. I will go ahead and assume if I ever get a Christmas Card from "The Lee Family" it is because Sy sent the card. The chance of Lee having anything to do with it is, and I choose my words wisely, remote.

Even worse than all that, however, is getting a Happy Holidays email from a newlywed couple (at this age there is a lot of them) signed by "Jason, Terry and Muggles", where "Muggles" is actually their three-year old Cocker Spaniel. This is some insulting shit. Your fucking dog had nothing to do with the holiday email you wrote, of that I am quite sure. Muggles doesn't even know what email is. He doesn't even know what writing is. All he knows is dog food and sleeping, so he is in no position to be wishing me Happy Holidays. And even if Muggles was some sort of super intelligent dog that was capable of typing emails and sending them, I don't think I'd want a three-year old Cocker wishing me anything other than a happy life full of Milkbones. So, to summarize for those who are confused on the matter, three-year old dogs are incapable of writing emails or spreading holiday cheer. And for the love of God, don't put a Santa hat on your dog and take a picture. That should be punishable by a prison sentence.

On the same vein as the above are the cards signed by "Jason, Terry, Jennifer and Muggles". This is a few years later, when the newlywed couple has their first ever baby, named Jennifer. Again, I thought other human beings were aware of this, but six-month old babies cannot send emails. And unless the baby had something to do with the email or card I have recieved, I don't think the baby should be receiving any credit for the purchase and sending of that card. Did little Jenny go out to the Hallmark store and pick out a card? Did she go to the post office and purchase up a stamp? Did she drop it in the mailbox? (ok, actually, i can imagine a six month-old baby being capable of dropping an envelope into a mailbox, but only if the mom holds that baby directly above a mailbox, in which case most of the effort is still exerted by the mom instead of the baby). In any event, your little sweetheart gives a rat's ass about my holidays, so take her name off of the emails sent my way.

Anyway, Happy Holidays to you and your family!

Love,

Mark, Muggles, and my coffee mug.

I believe certain professions have a mandatory set of requirements associated with them. In other words, those without certain assets cannot effectively do certain jobs. There are both physical requirement and intellectual requirements. As an example of a physical requirement, a professional football quarterback should have arms. It would seem to me that his job, throwing or handing off a football, would be fairly dependant on the use of arms and hands. As an example of an intellectual requirement, a java programmer should know java. As Silicon Valley proves, java programmers don't even need to know English. But Java .. that's a requirement.

Another example of this was demonstrated on my flight yesterday from Seattle to NYC. I believe in order to be a flight attendant, you should possess certain attributes. And just as a quaterback should have arms, I feel a flight attendant should have a somewhat trim body. I am not talking supermodel, but I am talking about having a body that can at least fit through an airplane aisle. Now, i've come to grips with the fact that the hey-day of hot, young stewardesses from the 50's and 60's is a thing of the past. No more short skirts, pretty faces, and nice perfume. Hell, I'm even ok with today's infection of 68-year old, pissed-off, over-paid flight attendants that dominate the modern airlines. But enough is enough. I experienced a flight attendant yesterday who literally could not walk down the aisle without bumping everyone because of her gigantic ass. It was an 8 am flight, and i was tired as shit, so all I wanted was some sleep. And right when I would doze off, on four separate occasions, there was the ass in my face, bumping me hard enough to wake up. She looked a bit like that mom from "throw mama from the train" and "goonies", only shorter. and fatter. I mean, come on. How do you get to this place in your career? You don't have much to have to stay on top of as a flight attendant .. basic speech .. the ability to push a cart .. and to pour a tomato juice into a cup while standing .. so how can you not have the time to stay below four-hundred pounds? I know how good that airline food is .. and you eat five hundred pretzels a day .. but still. As a flight attendant, you should always retain the ability to physically move through an airline aisle. I have stopped asking you to be friendly or pretty. Just simply don't bump my face without your wad of blubber everytime you walk by. It is like a whale trying to squeeze through a shower drain. And it is a deriliction of duty. And i'm sick of it.