Bosses Are The Bad Kind of Alien Species

Dear Heidi,How should I deal with a chatty boss that seems to be much more interested in reminiscing about 30 years ago than actually getting work done?Signed,Too Young for this Conversation

This is posted by Erin who should be my editor, who has a very well written column at http://surfaceripple.blogspot.com/

Here is my dysfunctional answer:

My significant other is quite a bit older than I. He has a story for everything. Any conversation turns into a story of what he did, or would have done then supported by another story, most of whichI have heard already twice over. It is defiantly an old senile person thing, or being ungratified in the moment of life your are living in now. This is what you can do and it involves the scientific reasoning of your brain called the hypothalamus. Here is a quote (I must have a quote) on what I heard about it recently:

"The hypothalamus is one of the most important parts of the brain, involved in many kinds of motivation, among other functions. The hypothalamus controls the "Four F's":

fleeing and
mating. "

1. Fighting: This is actually the nicer one of my suggestions.Fight back. How you may ask? When he talks of the days of latter years start doing very annoying things like tapping your pencil or leg while looking constantly at your watch. If this does not rid him then.. do something very mentally troubling such as taking a staple and scraping it along your cuticle until it bleeds,it will make him more and more unsettled.. If he throws a curve ball "Are you in a rush?" politely tell him you do have ALOT of work that needs to be done. "A Stanford research group advertised for participants in a study of obsessive-compulsive disorder. They were looking for therapy clients who had been diagnosed with this disorder. The response was gratifying; they got 3,000 responses about three days after the ad came out. All from the same person."

2. Feeding: Send him an anonymous cake lage enough for the entire staff "Happy Retirement" written on it. This will plant the seed that it maybe is time to take the memories of old to the nursing home he belongs in. If he doesn't get it, later that week anonymously send some flowers or put some champagne on his desk with the same slogan. He will wonder if he is truly going insane, or maybe just maybe someone does not like him.
If this does not work, pretend like you are eating your boogers or earwax while he is telling the stories. Then wipe your finger off on the desk area where he is closest too. Maybe this will gross him out enough to leave.
I have no quote for this one so I have a joke that I thought was funny that has absolutely nothing to do with your dilemma. "As she lay there dozing next to me, one voice inside my head kept saying, "Relax... You are not the first doctor to sleep with one of his patients, " but another kept reminding me, "Howard, you are a veterinarian."
Dick Wilson

3. Fleeing: If the more polite latter two do not work, this one has always worked for me. As he is starting to go into the story line, grap your closest roll of duck tape and scream in two short screams and a nice long curdeling one. Hurriedly and insanely tape his mouth screaming "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" and then curl up under your desk rocking in the fetal position. This is a definite cure. People who never get carried away should be. - Malcolm Forbes

4. Mating: Umm...well he may have to find a mate to mate with so the present becomes more interesting than the past. Maybe you can purchase him one:) "Sex is one of the nine reasons for reincarnation... The other eight are unimportant. "
Henry Miller

So there is my dysfunctional advise to you: Be an obsessive compulsive, pick your boogies, go postal, and get him laid.

Now for my rebuttal to the "Lone Ranger":

"iF u dOnT LIKe tHEe wAy eye speLL, ThEn u dOnt got TO reeD mi BLOG"

Latte' Heidi


Heidi The advice columnist begins...

"Researchers from Christchurch School of Medicine, New Zealand have found that smoking cannabis nearly doubles the risk of developing mental illness."
Triple Helix Spring 2005

I got my first question, for my dysfunctional advise column! Woohooo. Please feel free to ask any questions you'd like about anything and I will answer them all out of total dysfunction.

How goes the drug addiction? - Posted by Rainy Pete http://uselessmen.blogspot.com/
He has a great advise column and http://rainypete.blogspot.com/ his own personal column as well.

I am not sure how to answer this question. Should I be offended at the thought that he thinks that by my apparent issues that I am a drug user? Should I be offended and hurt. Should I stay in a state of silent frustration and shrug it off? Nope, I will try and get verbally even by lashing out and I will just remind him that he is funny looking, not right in the head, short, and mostly confused...and he wears a red rubber clown nose on his site:)

To answer his question the drug addiction is going well:) Too well in fact. I had hurt my back 4 weeks ago, the doc gave me percocet and flexeril. The flexeril made me feel like I had about 4 shots of goldschlogger. Mellow, yet my brain and mouth could no longer form words. Throughout the weeks I have gotten used to the meds, and would like a refill please. Really..Seriously I would like a refill please,that'ss some good stuff. The percocet did nothing for me so I never took it after the first day.

Words of advise from a dysfunction malfunction: 2 days before hurting my back I decided to go on a slim fast diet. I just wanted to lose a few pounds the jeans were getting tight. So I started that, and took my drugs all day long as the doc prescribed.Stupid me I was slosshed, but had an amazingly mellow day at work, nothing at all bothered me. I had a poker game later on in the evening, and I always have 2 drinks on poker night. Totally forgetting. Just not thinking....I had not eaten all day, just the stupid slim fast shake and flexeril, I drank. I was currently in 5th place (winner goes to the world poker tour). Needless to say I was bumped down to 19th, and un-understandable.

Slimfast+muscle relaxant+2 captain morgan and cokes make your world spin in a very bad way.

So tomorrow is the last day of meds...I truly could be addicted...but will continue my legal addiction of starbucks vanilla latte's...even though I know it must be loaded with crack or something because I try and find ways to do coffee runs for the office..every day...got a headache...you need coffee...bad day..yup you need coffee. Which leads me to my next addiction of a very bad, terrible ugly habit, that I am ashamed of...pen chewing. There is so much caffeinee floating around in my brain that I compulsivley chew my pen to no end, it really is disgusting,but it is a good way to keep the co-workers away from my pen "stash".

In conclusion it leads me to wonder:
If my mother did smoke pot or eat those little majuanna brownies when I was in the womb...

I smoke pot only three times in my life. The last was laced or something and I was hallucinating and first thought the cops were after me and then I thought that I was flashing my parents at the dinner table (and yes I was actually at the dinner table with them). Freud should figure that one out!
So I figure any mental illness I will pawn off on my parents of the 70's.

Pete, I hope this helps!



(p.s. I really do like the rubber nose, I am not sure if you are really short or not)


Group Therapy

"A woman is the only thing I am afraid of that I know will not hurt me."
- Abe Lincoln

Oh my how the times have changed. Back in those days women still did not have a voice, not even a right to vote. I'm sure many women in silent frustration had baked their yummy little cakes and desserts for their hubbys with something of the equivelent to exlax, or cyanide.

On that note, I have decided to become a "dysfunctional" advice columnist. I have run out of things to post, so here is an open forum. You have an issue about love, dating, men, women, kids, jobs....I am here to help me help you.

Feel free to send any questions and I will answer each one of them.


Almighty Heidi- injured in combat

"The art of life is the art of avoiding pain." - Thomas Jefferson

I have not written because I am doped up on flexeril and percocet. My mouth and my brain no longer connect to make full distinguishable sentences. Why you asked? Let's just say I have possibly herniated a disk by going to war with my vacuum cleaner...And it won.

I have rigged up my alarm clock to set on the end of the bed post so I can press the snooze button in the morning with my big toe so I do not have to roll over and hit the button, thus sending an electrified jolt of pain in to my back, and into my ass. Bruce thinks I have lost my mind as he watches me rig up my incredible system, and says "Maybe you should lay off the percocet." I however think it is pure genius and want to make a patented alarm clock bed stand and toe friendly alarm clock. Then I have my PMS moment and think " Why am I doing this, why doesn't he press the snooze button in the morning. Why is the alarm clock on my side of the bed." I give him "the look" and he doesn't know why I am giving him "the look" and it makes me mad because he should be able to read my mind and understand the true dimensions of "the look"by now.

The worst of this whole thing was going to my doctor and getting weighed and telling the nurse "Your scale cannot possibly be calibrated right..." then the nurse...gives me "the look"
3 days of pain pills I go back to the gym to prove to everyone I am tough and can work through the pain, and no way am I going to turn into a fatty. 3 hours later the pills wore off, and I'm sulking on the couch like baby, and though a tearful confession I am 32 years old and yes I do want my mommy right about now.