On Monday, while at work, Barbie had a bit of a gymnastics moment but not quite at the ’10’ level of a Mary Lou Retton or Nadia Comaneci. As Barbie was walking down one of the aisles at work, and past a full meeting room, she managed to get the tip of her shoe trapped into the cuff of her pants. Unable to stop the physical momentum that was driving her forward, Barbie would wind up going into a full somersault and finishing it in a cross-legged position while sitting on her butt inside the conference room.
Without missing a beat Barbie looked up at the stunned attendees as she said “Hi, how is everyone? I thought I’d drop in and check on you.”
She would get up, brush herself off and walk out. The folks having the meeting were still somewhat dumbstruck as they witnessed the entire incident from the start since the meeting room’s walls were made of glass and they could see everything that was happening in the office area.
OK so I was sitting in the office having lunch with Industrial Designer Ken and Engineering Barbie. The topic of conversation was the tours we had going on and the ‘big media’ one that we have coming up. During this I mention that I found a new shirt that said the following:
And tomorrow I’ll be sober
We all got a good chuckle out of it and I then stated “Maybe I’ll start wearing it to the team meetings. Or maybe I’ll dig out my good old ‘I’ll try being nicer if you try being smarter’ shirt that I have.”
“You didn’t wear a shirt like that to team meeting did you?” asked Industrial Designer Ken.
“Absolutely I did. I mean it’s not like they’ll let me wear my hat that says ‘G.F.Y.'”
Engineering Barbie had a good snicker over this but Industrial Designer Ken looked a little lost.
“I don’t get it. What does G.F.Y stand for?”
“It means Go F*** Yourself”, I replied.
Engineering Barbie then looked perplexed and went “I thought it meant Jesus F***ing Christ”
I then looked at Engineering Barbie and went “You do realize that would be JFC not GFY right?”
In her best attempts to cover her tracks she answered back with “Maybe I’m dyslexic”
“Um, dyslexia means you scramble letters up…not create whole new letters”, I told her.
Undeterred she answered back with that classic reply, ‘Whatever”. And off she went leaving both Designer Ken and I completely confused and perplexed.