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To begin with, I must thank my co-workers: Cheryl Lopez (for inspiring this column) and Kathleen Mayne (for many of witty lines used herein). This column could probably have been written without me, if it weren't for my involvement in it.
It all started when Cheryl and I were assigned to the team of people who were going to clean out the refrigerator at work. Cheryl cleverly named our group The Mold Patrol. It seemed only natural that a clever name like this should have a clever logo, which I was able to visualize, but did not have the time to implement. Perhaps, I thought, I should hire somebody to help me with such important tasks. Unfortunately, it is hard to find someone who considers a bag of Cheetos to be adequate payment for a day's work. Enter Kathleen, who pointed out that if I were to pay someone a bag of Cheetos, I would be sacrificing an entire month of my wages. Kathleen, unfortunately, is aware of how much I get paid. I agreed with her that I was being very generous, but I'm a giver, and I suggested that once I got my annual increase, I might even increase the payment to a bag of Cheetos and a partially-eaten Tootsie Roll Pop. Ever the realist, Kathleen reminded me that I was quite possibly overestimating my raise, and so I settled on a payment of a bag of Cheetos and a sunflower seed that had been spit up by a hamster. For whomever I hired, these would be the gross wages. Still, I was faced with the problem of whom I could hire (besides myself) for such a meager salary. It occurred to me that possibly I could hire one of the transients that hang out over by Soboba Casino, specifically the one often referred to as Soboba Hobo Bob, which, when spelled backwards is Bobobohabobos. I would have dearly liked to end this column with the word Bobobohabobos, because that is exactly the kind of obscure thing that amuses me, but I still had a problem to solve. Who was going to design the logo for The Mold Patrol? I approached Soboba Hobo Bob, and he ran away screaming, apparently having read previous columns. His loss. With no other resource, I hunkered down (difficult at my age) and created the logo myself:  If you click on the logo, then you can hear the sound of the bowl screaming, because, as Kathleen (who basically wrote this column) suggested, the moldy bowl would feel at home in the refrigerator and would not want to leave. It may even have established a sense of community, or at least, of culture. It turns out that when the refrigerator cleaning finally did get done, we found a bag of Cheetos, a partially eaten Tootsie Roll, and a sunflower seed (that I must assume was regurgitated by a hamster). Go figure. I kept them for myself for a job well done. Surprisingly, Kathleen did not want them. Oh, and one more thing: Bobobohabobos. |
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