Grooming the Demonseed

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

The more and more I write on this blog the more and more I realize how much I leave out of it due to the worry that one day someone unsavory will stumble upon this blog, report me to the proper authorities and I will be out of a job. Things that I would rather not comment on cuz the connecting of such dots will only make it that much easier to corroborate yours truly in a fiasco to end all fiascoes. The more and more I think about it the more and more I really don't give a fuck. Seeing as though that would spark an entirely new set of Angry Times and the gloves would come off I am likely satisfied with the outcome or with my current state of affairs. So how about I do some more intimate stories involving these Bosses and their antics, yes yes?

We'll go on some idiocy that only Female Boss would think about pioneering. Blazing the trail from the territory of stupidity to less traveled roads.. into the lands of extreme mental retardation. What do I mean by this? Well let's see. Knowing what limited tidbits you know about Demonseed it would be safe to say that either A) you shoot the bird in the face with a paintball gun until an autopsy would reveal a failed set of lungs beautifully coated with a bevy neon colors or B) try to regulate the bird's behavior to where its tolerable. One thing's for sure, these birds are very bright. So why not treat em like any other pet and see if you can train em?

We're now crossing into the lands of extreme mental retardation. If you look out the window to your right you will see a smiling marble bust of Female Boss. To your left, miles of lifeless plains that signify the airy, open space in her skull.

"You know what I'm gonna do, Northe?" asks Female Boss.

"Not yet I don't!"

"I'm gonna get Demonseed a trainer."

"Splendid!"

The following Monday is here in a flash. Female Boss is excited about the trainer headed in to the office today. I am a bit indifferent, knowing what I know all I know is to expect the unexpected. I have become a cheesy character in a poorly written sitcom it seems. I'll just act surprised or feign interest whenever I am called upon.

Around 2pm the trainer, Trainer, shows up. Trainer is greeted with the deluge of horror that greets everyone that enters this vile domain. He's a pigeon of a man. Small, meek and a noting stench coming from his body.. and the matted gel like organic material one would likely recognize as his hair, he is likely swimming with disease. My antibodies quiver in the excitement of fighting off new bacteria.. now would be the ideal time for my HIV to flare up again.

Sidebar: I guess I'll make this a two part post guys. There is far more information and I feel I am long-winded as it is. No sense in boring you before I get to the meat of the matter. However, before I do I'll give you the cliff hanger that will leave you begging for more!

As the pasty husk of this individual passed by the office heading over to Demonseed's cage he waves in my direction.

"Hey, how ya doin," I tell him.

"Fine. My name is Trainer from Woof Woof Training."

Woof Woof Training. Oh, hell no! Please tell me Female Boss didn't hire a dog trainer to train her bird... then again what'dya expect? If I can redirect your attention again to the vast, open, lifeless plains to your left that is the equal to that of Female Boss' mind. To be continued...