More tales from the office

Fantastic e-mail quote of the day regarding fantasy football league from our resident scholar aesthete Will:

I joined, made no trades or adjustments to my roster, and still did just fine. That was the point. Fantasy Football is a crap shoot, a chance game like Roulette, except the randomizing element is the health, drug addiction, and extracurricular dog-fighting that cripples the idols of Mammon that you worship.

But I'll play if you'll stop being mean to me.

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And finally, as part of my office manager duties, I bring you an example of a new employee introduction, such as I write on the first day someone is here and send to the office. Welcome to the company.

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*new employee alert*

The last few entries in the diary of Cary Collins, Jan 2^nd, 1999.

Morning

It’s supposed to be July 23^rd 1923, but it surely doesn’t feel like it. Brendan, diva that he is, is chugging his 2^nd bottle of Cristal while we all wait for him to get his nails done. Vosloo’s head is pouring sweat and makeup they caked on it about an hour ago. This goddamned desert sun is breaking my spirit, as I find myself giving my all as Jonathan Carnahan. Brendan, that fop, he’s basically dialing it in nowadays after his agent negotiated the deal and all the contract riders following Airheads. This is the second role he’s stolen right out from underneath me!

At least Rachel’s wearing one of those thin white linen tops…how I long for her darling accent.

Afternoon

Brendan, drunk as a skunk, hid on set wearing nothing but toilet paper. As we all fanned out looking for him, I’m appalled to say that poor Rachel, darling Rachel, nearly had a heart attack as he jumped out and grabbed her, screaming “I’m The Mummy!!! Unravel me!!!!”. Luckily I was there to catch her fainting body… The guys we hired locally to move the giant set pieces and carry Brendan back and forth on a raised throne, promptly handed in their resignations. Eagle-eagle-snake-cat-river. Strong words indeed.

Evening

Another day’s shooting behind us. I’ve probably found at least a pound of sand in my nether region, rushed there by the angry winds that surround our shooting location. Patricia, the actress who’s playing Anck Su Namun, has succumbed to what we on-set have called “The Mummy’s Curse”—Fraser’s Condyloma. I stole myself into Brendan’s RV today and found the script to Monkey Bone. The writing is incredible, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s really a clever metaphor for his personal life.

My sweet sweet Rachel calls to me in my dreams, I must attend her.

Jan 3^rd, 1999.

Morning

We finished off the last few scenes this morning. Brendan’s taking to wearing a leather jacket and matching hat, cracking a whip and dragging himself beneath a Nazi troop transport truck. He betrays the spirit that is Harrison Ford and Sam Spiro. He disgusts me.

Afternoon

I was in Four Weddings and a Funeral! I delivered Auden with the best of them! Now I play second fiddle to George of the Jungle?!

We traveled to visit the Sphinx today, as a thank you gift from the producer. Throughout the whole ride Brendan was regaling us with stories of the parties he had with “Sean and Pauly” after Encino Man. As if he knows them that well! Hookers and blow. Blow and hookers. Same ol’ same ol’. I perform Shakespeare on my Saturday nights at the community theater!

Night

I saw Rachel and Brendan kiss today. My Rachel. My sweet, Princess Nefertiri. I must do something. This must stop!

Jan 4^th, 1999.

If you are reading this you know it has come to pass. Either I will have slain the beast that is Fraser or he will have bested me. I could not live a day longer living in his shadow. In either case I am through with acting, my one great love besides Rachel. I hold no misconceptions in my heart that she will rush into my arms like she should, a woman with her grace and power could not settle for Hugh Grant’s eternal second fiddle.

What shall I yearn for? What to do with the rest of my life? Some of the gents at ILM have suggested that they’d support me in my assassination attempt—make it look like he’d been swallowed in a sandstorm. If I fail, they promised to get me a job in programming. Either way, this is my last journal entry for a long while. Wish me luck as I face the monstrous Brendan—fully determined and with righteousness on my side!

[The following was found inserted in the diary, with the caption “The metaphor of a love triangle”]

Please join with me in welcoming the real Cary Collins (who strangely resembles actor John Hannah). He’s one of the Workshop Candidates (programming) for the World of Darkness MMO, and will be situated betwixt Orrin and Chris, in what I hope isn’t a new love triangle.