Sunday's drive up your blog… with Ramblin' Rooster

The official blog of

Posts Tagged ‘office

Office Lingerie

leave a comment »

When I’m at work the last thing I’m thinking of is lingerie. Being sexy or seeing sexy just doesn’t happen where I work. I’m not saying all offices are like mine. I’m sure there are a lot of offices in this country that have staffed sexy people worth ogling. Mine is just not one of them.


I was wearing a white, collared, shirt the other day that I have to wear a plain white t-shirt underneath of because the shirt is like tissue paper thin. You can see right through the thing, no problem. I’d imagine if it got wet it would appear as though I wasn’t wearing a shirt at all. This shirt is so thin that I never have to wash it because dirt passes right through it. This shirt is so thin strippers find it to be too revealing. This shirt is so thin that it’s made out of one thread of string. It’s thin man!


My wife made me go shopping with her today, clothes shopping of course. While I was there I browsed through the men’s section, (better to walk around the men’s clothes than hang around and carry my wife’s “selections” I always say). As I walked around, I noticed all these dress shirts that were supermodel thin just like my white shirt. I honestly couldn’t believe it. I had always assumed that years ago when ever my wife bought the shirt for me that she had purchased the cheapest shirt possible. I guess it’s a style or something. “Do you carry mega-super-thin-look-at-the-color-and-texture-of-my-chest-hair-right-through-the-material-dress-shirts?” Too long for a label or a sign is my guess.


I figure that this is white collar lingerie. This is how business type, professionals mix it up on the adult fantasy, office scale. “Oh Bob, I can see your nipples.” “That’s because I didn’t wear an undershirt Mary.” Wow, that’s smokin’ hot, sexy even.


So remember the next time you’re getting dressed for you desk/office job. Don’t think professional, think sexy. Someone could be looking right through your clothes.


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 3, 2009 at 4:20 am

A Cool Boss?

with 8 comments

I guess a lot of people would say having a cool boss would be the greatest thing on earth, but I’m not one of those people. There’s just something creepy about a cool boss.

First of all we need to establish/define a cool boss. In my opinion a cool boss is someone who seems more like a peer than a boss. A cool boss would never give you a hard time about being a couple of minutes late in the morning or coming back from lunch. A cool boss doesn’t give you a hard time if you need to leave early or make you prove and explain in great detail what you are doing if you ask for time off, (even if it’s just for an hour or so). A cool boss lets you wear jeans to the office on Wednesday. A cool boss lets you make personal calls, listen to your MP3 player at work and visit web sites on company time. You can crack a dirty, clean, politically correct or incorrect joke, talk about getting “three sheets to the wind” drunk last night or some crazy, weird encounter you had with someone in college to your cool boss. Basically a cool boss is like a good friend. You don’t fear, scare or become uncomfortable around your cool boss. In fact your cool boss is your best friend in the office. Sometimes you just sit in their office and shoot the breeze with them.

Now you’re really confused as to why I’m not on this train, huh? This is why it’s bad. Cool bosses are destroying professionalism. Cool bosses turn professional people into heroine addicted hippies and those who are already unprofessional begin to thrive and nourish themselves into unprofessional nightmares that can’t be stopped. Before you know it we’ll all be wearing rope sandals and playing hacky sack in the conference room. Lunch will be four hours long, followed by nap time and a client will be “lottery ticket lucky” to ever get anyone on the phone, (but what will they care? They were probably just taking a break from their Frisbee golf game, calling you back from the message you left three months ago.)

Your boss shouldn’t be cool, nor should they be your friend. You should almost wet your pants every time your boss comes around the corner. You should hide your eyes, your personal belongings and every aspect of your personal life from a real boss. Why, you shouldn’t even know the first name of your boss in a perfect world. Bosses are meant to be mean and nasty. They should make you want to work overtime for free because of the stern and firm wake they leave behind just by being in the office. You should want to always stay clear of your boss and would never want to initiate a conversation. A real boss rules with an iron fist, is a dictator and near shows any sign of humanity. Your boss doesn’t eat, sleep or use the bathroom and if by some chance they have a spouse, it’s because they are a business partner for business-social events. If they have kids it’s because of the tax breaks.

To be a real boss you must have a black heart, have lost or sold your soul and above all, without exception can not circulate blood in your veins, (because that’s were the ice goes).

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

December 20, 2008 at 6:26 am

Can We Just Not Like Each Other?

with 2 comments

Hate is a strong word. It shouldn’t be used lightly. One should not throw it around, because words can be weapons, hurtful and dangerous. So, I think it’s safe to say that hate isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I feel about the people I work with.

My feelings of disgust are so powerful, it’s as though they don’t even exist, but then the spell is broken as one of them speaks. I’m am not powerful enough or versed in the dark, mysterious, mystic arts to banish them from this realm, but make daily offerings of my soul to the dark overlord in exchange for the annihilation of the fellow co-workers. To date, Lucifer has not responded.

Each co-worker is specially gifted with a superpower of annoyance. Each annoyance is crafted, practiced, honed and is razor sharp. Executed with precision in both time and technique. Any one of them is so good they could “go pro”, if only forcing people to commit suicide was a sport. Perhaps the 2012 Olympics? I have the roster for the unbeatable, gold winning.

Here’s a quick break down of the team, (I’m withholding names because I can’t bear the thought of typing them, not to protect them. Plus, I’ve always thought changing John to Jack for the sake of anonymity was silly.)

Co-worker one: She likes to complain, fight with her husband on the phone, rearrange the office, burn popcorn in the microwave, scrap the inside of her yogurt cup repeatedly, (just accept that it’s all gone lady!) and sleep at her desk.

Co-worker two: She likes to read books, stare off in space, and sleep at her desk. (She is my favorite because she is so quiet)

Co-worker three: He likes clean his nails, stare at the wall and talk with co-worker one, all day, everyday. This promotes co-worker one to speak. They like to exchange interesting stories about animal hair, picnic baskets, bathmats and pickle preparation, (or maybe just random, stupid, small talk garbage).

Co-worker four: He likes to lose every thing he touches, not be in the office, promise clients the impossible, leave others to clean up his mess and “talk down” to everyone.

Co-worker five: He likes to micro-manage, play solitaire, eat cookies, and create overtime situations by blowing deadlines.

Co-worker six: She likes to talk on the phone all day long to people she hasn’t spoken to in years, offer advice whether you’re listening or not, eat snacks, call in sick, forget what to do and being reminded/told again. She plans on having a cell phone surgically implanted into her head.

Co-worker seven, (the captain): He likes to shotgun coffee, put things in his mouth, walk around, play with his phone, surf the web, leave early and elude responsibility.

Co-worker seven recently told me I needed to interact more with “the team”. I gave him the finger. Co-worker one was forced to ask me to join “the team” for drinks after work one night, I told her, “I don’t drink”, she replied, “Neither do I”. Great, then why wouldn’t we go to a bar?

I am currently working on inventing appetizing looking cookies made of some kind of explosive to “bring in” for sharing. If anyone can offer me some advice on how to get a believable texture, I’d be much obliged.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

October 14, 2008 at 5:41 am