Thursday, May 14, 2009

Daily Briefs: Everybody hates their jobs.

Posted By on Thu, May 14, 2009 at 8:19 AM

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In space, no one can hear you bitch: The only people allowed to go into space are extraordinarily rich people like Mark Cuban who can actually pay Russians to launch them into orbit, or the astronauts in government space programs, who are qualified via a lot of fancy, rarefied knowledge such as how to fly jets and how to fuse four protons into one single alpha particle. Fat, farty-smelling old Earth-bound you and handsome, Aqua-Velva-scented me will never have the opportunity to escape the gravity well because we're all too busy with our shards of mastodon bones scraping survival incomes from the hides of the telemarketing companies we work for.

But it's axiomatic that everyone wants to bitch about their work, no matter how insanely priveleged they are. Get KMBC Channel 9 sports anchor Len Dawson alone for a beer, and he'll probably just gripe about all the prank phone calls he gets from prancing WDAF stallion Phil Witt and having to call the police twice a week to request Silver Alerts whenever Larry Moore wanders out of the building.

NASA astronaut Don Pettit, who should really SHUT UP, bitches like a small, bepigtailed girl to National Geographic about having to suck beverages from a straw in free-fall. "You feel like an insect sucking juices out of another insect," he says. Such are the horrible conditions on both the space shuttle and in any given McDonald's, a chain of Scottish restaurants I discovered recently on a trip. It's not like NASA is requiring astronauts in orbit to audit an entire quarter's worth of expense reports in one day because there's a regional vice president coming to the office in three days. That's your job. All Pettit has to do at work is have incredible adventures while sipping Tang through a straw. Anyway, Pettit invented a cup astronauts can use in space, which he did in space, Apollo 13-style, from available materials. The end. Although I intended to append a complaint about having to sit in a really uncomfortable chair while typing up descriptions of Phil Witt saying "Hey, Jerky," into the phone in his smooth, velvety news anchor voice. But who has time these days with all this damn straw-sucking we have to do?

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