Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Werk of the Day

I had a dream last night that Hans and I jokingly set up Cat for Scale as an oil property - oh, not in any real way. This wasn't some elaborate practical joke. We just got to giggling about oil property sales and how some people must pick properties they want to buy or sell and... voila! Cat for Sale!

During our weekly conference call with the marketer on our current divestiture, Hans made an aside about the Nine Lives 4-1 well and the marketer overheard us and asked the API number.§ We thought he knew we were joking, so we made up an API number, randomly adding digits until he stopped us.

Then the ersatz well showed up on the sales brochure that went out to potential buyers.

Then we had to explain to the Senior VP and General Counsel that it was a joke.

Then the Senior VP and General Counsel explained to us how you never want to remove items from the sales brochure, only add them.

Meanwhile, the API number we fabricated turned out to be in the hottest oil field in the western hemisphere and high-powered multinational oil conglomerates were in a bidding war on my cat.

My freakin' cat.

I need to go work at McDonalds now.#

Or maybe I need a vacation.††


FOOTNOTE (crossed): Like some girls pick football teams in the pool - the uniforms are pretty, I used to know a guy from Tennessee, that Tom Brady is just so dreamy... not that guys couldn't possibly do this to, but I've never heard one admit to it.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Which is French for "couple of dumb-asses."

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): A social security number for wells - all unique, never used twice, the first two digits indicate the state, the next three are the county and the remaining are a unique identifier, occasionally incorporating coding for horizontal or offshore or other types of wells.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): This is true. If we're not sure about something, we leave it out so later we can go, "Surprise! We found you 1200 more acres and a tank farm!"

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Though I fear two months at McDonalds would bring dreams of the cat with a side of fries.

††FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire...

6 comments:

handeyecrafts said...

This could only --- ONLY --- happen to you. And Hans. You and Hans.

brian said...

oh just wait till I tell dr. Klingsmith about your disregard for implied warranty of goods sold.....oh the horror.

CatKnits said...

You live such an interesting life...I hardly know where to start!

prsunshine said...

This could only happen to you, Marin.

Does this mean that your cat is a gusher?

Lyda

meshugemoo said...

You can't have that kind of fun at McDonald's, unless you get them to go back to using beef tallow, for the fries. That would be awesomesauce! (I don't eat at McDonald's but still...)

Marin (AntiM) said...

I'm sorry your comments just sat there for ages. One consistent artifact of getting old and feeble is that I think about things SO HARD that I'm convinced I did them. Like approving comments. Or mailing the payment for the electric bill.