Sunday, October 9, 2011
Mr. Slug used his new laptop computer to email his best employee, Mr. Lunchbox and sent a carbon copy of the same to Mr. Canopener. In the missive he requested that the two be up and ready for the days work, stocked and ready for duty with his favorite lunch repast at approximately 6:00 in the morning. The reply he got from the two reads as such:
"Dear Mr. Slug, employer extra-ordinaire,
We hope this email finds you well. Both myself and Mr. Canopener regret to inform that we have a previous engagement at the television studio tomorrow and cannot work for you. We have been chosen as the celebrity guests of "Dancing with the jars," and have been awarded a healthy stipend for our appearance on the show. We hope you are able to find a temporary replacement for us while we are out on the dancefloor of fame and fortune.
We remain, your most obediant servants,
Mssrs. Lunchbox and Canopener, stars of stage and screen.
Mr. Slug read this letter with shock and amazement. He did not know that they had been practicing during the period of unemployment over the summer, and was stunned by the sudden unavailability of his two favorite employees. "What ever shall I do?" muttered Mr. Slug to himself. "I suppose I must go it alone and make the best of things while they have fun dancing. I shall employ the services of Mr. Lunchbag, even though he is somewhat unreliable and loose of tongue.
Off to work they went, Mr. Lunchbag trailing closely behind the hard working mollusk. They completed the samples efficiently and went to the lunchroom at breaktime. Over in the corner, a TV set was providing backround noise for the diners, when suddenly, the music changed to a snappy sounding salsa beat with the contestants of the popular show "Dancing with the Jars" swirling gracefully across the dancefloor! "Look! It's Mr. Lunchbox and Mr. Canopener! They are doing so well! Look at 'em go!" Indeed, the dancers were the finest contestants the show had ever seen. They hopped and spun about with effortless movement, dipped and swayed boldly in front of the judges like they had been dancing all of their lives. What an upset! The two former foodservice employees from coastal Oregon took the grand prize! All of the other celebrities shook their heads in disappointment as they congratulated the two victors.
During the commercial break, Mr. Slug offered Mr. Lunchbag a full time position until the two return from Hollywood. "Why Mr. Slug!" said the stunned paper product, "I never thought you would ask! Hey, why don't we go out for a quick tipple to celebrate my new job after work, I know of a nice watering hole we could visit on the slide home." Mr. Slug was leery, but agreed to go. On the way home, the two stopped for some suds at a place called "The Twisted Tentacle." It was a small establishment, with a long counter and red diamond tuck swivel barstools. The employer and his new employee toasted to the new job. Then they toasted to each others health. Then they toasted the continued cloudy weather, Mr. Slug's Irish Grandmother and to the continued success of Mr. Lunchbox and Mr. Canopener as dancers. By the time they were done toasting, they needed to call a taxi, which they did. On the ride home, Mr. Lunchbag, who was now double bagged, began to talk to the driver. "Hey, mishter! do you like dansching?" The driver looked in his rear view mirror, grimaced, and said, "I don't like the way you look. Say one more thing, and I am stopping right here." Mr. Slug tried unsuccessfully to get his new employee to stay quiet. The driver stopped the taxi and opened the door. "Get outta my cab, have a nice slide home."
Oh my! Mr. Slug and Mr. Lunchbag were in a spot - they need to be at work in a few hours and they aren't even home yet! Mr. Slug decided to make an executive decision and turn around to go back to work instead of going home. They found a nice pile of leaves to sleep under until morning. At least they were on time for work!
The next day in the lunchroom, the TV was on again, and there were a new set of dancers on the Dancing With The Jars show. "Where are Mr. Lunchbox and Mr. Canopener?!"
Just then, the two celebrities walked into the break room, wearing slick new gold colored suits and tap shoes asking "Did you miss us?" Mr. Slug said, "Did I ever! We were out celebrating your victory last night and got in to a bit of trouble. I hope we have learned our lesson, eh, Mr. Lunchbag?" Mr. Lunchbag looked at Mr. Slug and winked at his employer with a very red eye. "Mr. Slug, with all due respect, if I can find myself a dance shoe that fits my attractively boxy figure, I'm going to Hollywood too!" With that, Mr. Canopener twirled violently and said, "You! Lunchbag! You come with me! We go to Brazil to dance! Wheeeeee!!".....And off they went to catch the next Boeing 787 Dreamliner loaded with 288 other slugs out of the country.
The moral to this story: Not only is it hard to find good help that will refrain from acting on impulse, it is even harder to find something approproate to wear on the dancefloor if you are oddly shaped.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Today, Mr. Slug decided to be a useful slug and get some chores done around the house at Slug's Rest. Fall is quickly approaching, and slugs everywhere are getting ready for the long and wonderfully wet Oregon winter. The weeds have grown so tall that the dandelions are beginning to look like palm trees from Mr. Slug's point of view. Might be time to mow the grass and spruce the place up. "But first," thought Mr. Slug, "we must have the proper tool for the job." Mr. Slug slid around the grounds for a bit, taking stock of the enormous job that lay before him. He headed back toward the open kitchen window. The scent of a freshly baked blackberry pie cooling on the windowsill wafted across Mr. Slugs snout, which made him glad to be home on such a lovely day in the fragrant and windless late summer air. "Honey, I will be outside in the garage if you need me," Mr. Slug smiled broadly as he shouted over his shoulder to Mrs. Slug.
It had been a long time since Mr. Slug had been the garage to look for anything, there were stacks of boxes and unfamiliar tools strewn about the place. He flicked on the bare light bulb overhead, which cast an eerie shadow over all of the forgotten belongings. Over in the darkest recesses of his garage, Mr. Slug spied a very strange looking gentleman with a long set of whiskers and a sinister look to his eye. This particular chap looked like trouble, so Mr. Slug proceeded with caution and tried to be pleasant as he started to back away from the menacing and scary individual.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" asked the stranger. Mr. Slug was not sure how to answer this question, being that it is his house and he did not recall sending out any invitations to any sticks with whiskers.
Suddenly, he heard a click and a whir and the smell of gasoline filled his gills, making him feel woozy. The stranger's whiskers were whizzing about in circles and the stick-like figure buzzed to life! BZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! BZZBZZZBZZZZ! Mr. Slug backed away and slid for his life, knocking over boxes and sending piles of books flying everywhere. "Aghghgh," yelled Mr. Slug as he slid behind his beloved old unicycle with the flat tire, putting the spokes between him and his attacker.
Mrs. Slug heard the commotion and came to the rescue wielding a very large rolling pin in one tentacle and a cellphone in the other. "You leave my husband alone or I will call the snails!" Mrs. Slug released the rolling pin in the direction of the interloper. The weedwacky lunged and darted left and right, but Mrs. Slug's aim was true and quite effective! KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!! KEKEKEKEKEBowwwwww...........click. Silence. Then a pathetic whimper came from under the pile of books. Mrs. Slug's quick thinking trapped one of the whiskers in the roller of the pin, dislodging it from the lawn care tool and effectively rendering the weedwacky useless. "That is what you get for scaring my dear husband!" Mrs. Slug said to the now harmless stick. The weedwacky gathered up what was left of his mangled handlebar mustache and borrowed Mrs. Slugs' cellphone to call the Mrs. to pick him up from the corner mini-mart.
What is the lesson we learn from this event, you ask?
Number one: If you are a menacing weedwacky device, make sure you are equipped with plenty of green plastic string so you can be menacing for hours. The minute you lose that string, your done. I hate it when that happens.
Number two: If you plan to do yardwork, make sure your beautiful and clever wife is present somewhere on the property, you never know when you will run in to trouble with a garden implement and need the help of a wifely tentacle!
Number three: Husbands everywhere heed this warning from your wives - don't let the weedwhacker become a stranger! Gentlemen, start your engines!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
I hope you have enjoyed your tour of Mr. Slugs favorite business pastime! Go get em!
By the way, this series of photos are meant to be viewed with the previous post, so slide on down to see the technique that Mr. Slug uses to hit a golf ball without the need for those pesky arms that just get in the way of a flawless game. See you at the clubhouse!
Recently, some photographs were taken of actual slugs on a golf course near Slug's Rest. Every effort was taken not to disturb the game. Please stay tuned for history in the making as we take you to the Masters Tournament at Sluggle Beach Golf Course in Oregon!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Reading text while eating is like texting and driving....don't do it!!! Also, if you own an "icky blue pen," get rid of it!!!
Special rare slug alert: ***For those of you slug historians who are interested, this undated "blue ink on Brawny" napkin is another one of those rare documents that was lost for a time in the glove box of Mr. Slugs ancient Slugburban 8 cylinder sliding vehicle. It is a brown vehicular conveyance which was the daily slider for Mr. Slug to get to work for many years. He cleaned out all of the trash one day and found a large handful of rare and quite valuable slug napkins, some of which were water damaged and blurry due to the delicate blue ink which they were drawn with. Once it was determined that a pen like that is death to a slug napkin, it was no longer employed. The napkin you see here is one of the best preserved of the napkins of this vintage, so enjoy it and savor it for there are not too many of these "icky blue pen" slug napkins left in the entire world.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The director of the commercial Mr. Slug just yelled, "Cut" and it is a wrap. The director has informed Mr. Slug that the new Slugginator 3000 commercial will be aired alongside disaster documentaries and reality television shows.
The Slugginator 3000 has surpassed all sales records for January and promises to be the hottest ticket in town. Mr. Slug has cleverly housed the revolutionary device inside of an enormous warehouse space which used to be the site of a disco dance club in the older section of downtown Portland Oregon. The creation of his exclusive club allows him to accomodate the largest number of slugs possible for a profitable return on his initial investment.
The news media was at the club last night and interviewed Mr. Slug about this latest new health and fitness craze. "Automated Tail Wagging is sure to surpass Pilates, Spinning and Zumba in fitness popularity. Once the tail begins to wag, the slugs suddenly wish to dance. After a vigorous and happy tail wag, a slug can produce a great amount of slime which will help the slug to more effectively 'slide the night away' under the glittering mirror ball and thumping speakers."
Outside of the building, slugs are lined up around the block for a quick change in disposition. The line of slugs has gotten so long, in fact, that celebrity slugs have been known to slide to the front of the line on expensive stretch limosine belly sliders, demanding immediate entrance to the wonder machine. "Don't you know who I am?!" the celebrity slugs say, then they flash a bit of lettuce to the doorman and he lets them in.
Arguments between the everyday working slugs and celebrity slugs waiting in line behind the velvet rope have gotten quite ugly, so Mr. Slug has decided to level the playing field. He shall require each slug in line to recite a limerick or Haiku before granting a ticket for admittance. Even Lady Ga Ga would not be able to get in without a snappy poem to present to our doorslug, not even if she was dressed in her best yolk while hiding inside of a sizeable sweat inducing plastic egg, not even if said egg was carried by scantily dressed and fashionably shoulder implanted valets. One wonders if she had good cellphone reception in there, I suppose she could always call her caterers and have a Haiku or limerick cooked up at once and sent over in a pink cakebox for Mr. Slugs approval......However, Mr. Slug might not let her in if he found that the limerick had no rhyme or the Haiku had no reason.
That's right, no slug or egg yolk shall be allowed admittance to the tailwagging club without the aforementioned limerick/Haiku requirement. Call it poetic justice if you will.
If you are a slug who would like to gain entrance to the exclusive Tailwagger's Ball, please submit your best limerick or Haiku for inspection by Mr. Slug's friendly staff in the form of a comment! Please keep your optical tentacles behind the line and make sure you have no holes in your tailsock.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Mr. Slug feels strongly that his "slide in, suds up and slide out" franchise will become all the rage, once the local slugs realize that they no longer have to wait for siblings to finish up in the bathroom in order for them to get going in the morning.
Mr. Slug is daydreaming, illusions of granduer sparkle in his eyes......"I can see it now, the Scrub-a dub-dubs will be located nextdoor to coffee kiosks and supermarkets across the land! Long lines of stinky slugs will be cleaned up and looking slick for work, thus increasing productivity in the workplace. I, the great and clever Mr. Slug will be invited to speak at wealth building seminars and college graduation ceremonies! I can hardly wait!!!"
Oh my....it looks like Mr. Slug will HAVE to wait until Mrs. Slug finishes up. She is busy taking a shower and poor Mr. Slug hasn't finished the prototype yet...........This could take awhile!
Monday, January 3, 2011
Please note the unbidden tear eminating from Mr. Slugs sad eye....he is about to say goodbye to his favorite holiday visitor, the Holiday Carton of Eggnog! She has packed her bags, squared her jaw, and snapped her purse shut in preparation for a long vacation, away from the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season. Mr. Slug is concerned that the only eggnog left in the stores in a few days will be the short dated, bloated looking cartons of "flavored" eggnog, such as the pumpkin spiced or vanilla, or worse yet, the eggnog made of soy milk or the "reduced fat" variety. Oh, the horror!