Brides, Potlucks and Dildo Defense

Don't worry; this is the closest you'll get to an actual, real live dildo on this blog. You have to go elsewhere for that sort of thing.

New Complaints! New Complaints! New Complaints!

Glorious Complaint #1 (Wedding Shenanigans):

"I have a complaint! I have a friend. We'll call her... "Susan." Susan and I were friends 15 years ago, in high school, after which we drifted apart as high school friends tend to do. Susan recently got in touch, more or less out of the blue, to ask for editorial and design help on her wedding invitations, program, and various other wedding-related materials. OF NOTE: Her save-the-date cards had already gone out. Did I receive one? No I did not.

Now, being a nice and generally agreeable person, I made some very helpful notes on her sheaf of wedding-related materials and sent them back to her.

Did I receive a thank you in return? No. Would you like to know what I received, Internet Complaint Registry? WOULD YOU? Because I will tell you.

Susan's response: "I noticed you didn't mark up Section X. I think Section X is where I need the most help - would you take another look?"

Now, I spend most of my day getting paid to do just this sort of work. Furthermore, I'm a fairly busy person with many and varied interests - eating! lying around! hanging out with my cats! watching inane internet videos! I prefer not to give my valuable skills away for free to just anyone who doesn't invite me to her stupid wedding.

YEAH WELL I DIDN'T WANT TO GO ANYWAY SUSAN. You owe me like at least $15 for those edits, too."

Anonymous Internet Complainer

Glorious Complaint #2 (Fucking Work Potluck):

Today we had a work potluck- an afternoon of "fun" and food and staring uncomfortably across a table into the soulless eyes of coworkers we'd rather not be looking at while choking down hunks of chewy, overcooked chicken and limp pieces of broccoli, soberly washed down with room temperature diet Pepsi. You know- the usual.

Anyway, I was looking forward to a break from the monotony of the working day, except that it never happened. Due to coworkerly and managerial stupidity, my team and I were last to be called out to the potluck, and got there just to find that ALL the FUCKING FOOD was FUCKING GONE. How's that lamesauce for ya?

Pot "luck" my butt.

Roommate the Other

Ohhhh, complainers! You do me proud. 

You know, you can do something about these pesky brides and glutinous coworkers. I recommend the "hitting them with a giant dildo when they least expect it" technique. As you can see below, I am skilled at defending myself from hordes of baboons armed only with an excessively large dildo.

Official Quiz Results! Damn Straight. Thanks, TheOatmeal!

But brides and coworkers aren't baboons. Not legally. Nor are there always giant dildos readily at hand to defend yourself from stationery-crazed bride-humans and potluck rapists.

This is where you need to get a little crafty.

For the overstepping-her-bounds bride, I recommend crashing the wedding. Not 'crashing' as in showing up uninvited and unannounced; I mean driving a Cadillac Escalade into the wedding as it is happening. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and if she won't get your subtle internet hints, she will get it when you drive an Escalade over the top of her bridesmaids and extended family members. It will help if you are drunk and crying.

For the coworkers- the dildo attack would get your point across most effectively, but considering that bringing an enormous dildo to work and hitting people with it might get you fired, choosing a less violent approach is key.

Step 1: Buy a lot of shrimp. Doesn't matter what kind.
Step 2: Separate all the shrimp out into individual baggies and store them in a lunch bag.
Step 3: Go to work as usual, but stay late to 'tie up the loose ends' on this or that project.
Step 4: When all your least desirable coworkers and managers have left for the day, sneak into their cubicles and open the top shelf of their desks.
Step 5: Tape one baggy of shrimp to the underside of their top shelf close to the back, close the shelf and leave everything else as you found it.
Step 6: Repeat in the cubicles of everyone you want to watch suffer.

Within a few days, the putrid smell wafting from these cubicles will be so foul and repugnant, and so difficult to pinpoint, that you make actually live to regret doing it...

Soooo... perhaps a dildo would be best, after all.