Diver: Kurt Pattison, Home Slice Pizza

Interesting Facts: Kurt recently returned to Durango to resume the noble task of slinging pies to all the beautiful Durangotangs

Dear Diver,
A few of my coworkers recently have gotten into the “stand-up” desk craze. Anyway, I feel like now they are all condescending, like they are superior or something. I really like my comfy office chair and am pretty accustomed to sitting all day - how can I keep them from looking down on me?
– Backside Bill
Dear Bringing up the Rear,
Change is always hard, the floor is harder and there are options if you don’t want to stand up to your cohorts. Please explore these at your leisure but if you truly want to rise above… the King will have his throne. Gold plating is expensive, but I found several varieties of brass knock offs on E-bay. Buy yourself a throne, the bigger the better, velvet upholstery, built in massage options, lion busted and a crown and scepter too. One stuffed leopard at your side and a kegerator at the other. Make them bow, kiss your cat and your scepter and reward your loyal subjects with a cold brew.  If this doesn’t work, at least you’ve got beer.
– Your Humble Servant

Dear Diver,
The place where I work is about to celebrate a milestone anniversary with a big party. What is the protocol for inviting former employees, coworkers and/or business partners to the party?
– Missed Manners

Dear cordially challenged,
We’re off on the wrong foot. Party and protocol are mutually exclusive! Just like suits and a good time (weddings exempt). The more the merrier, tell them BYOB, nothing kills a party faster than limited libations. If there’s bad blood, nothing brings people together like excessive consumption. Soon you’ll be one big happy family, besides it’s important to have outsiders at a company party. You’ll always have someone else to blame or at least you’ll have options if you heed the advice to never dip your pen in company ink.
– Party Hardy, Diver

Dear Diver,
I guess you could say I’m a “soccer mom,” only problem is, I swear like a trucker. Sometimes I don’t even notice I’m doing it – you know, an “f” bomb here, an “f” bomb there – until I see the horrified looks on people’s faces. Even my kids are starting to call me out on it. Please help me get a handle on the potty mouth - I am way beyond the swear jar.
– Futhermucker
Dear Potty Mouth,
There’s an App for that! I’m assuming you have an I-phone like any normal human being. It’s called the I-Cuss-2-Goddamn-F’n-Much. Invented by the Born-Again Fishermen’s Union of Alaska, a Bluetooth device releases a smell to remind you of your pledge to purity. The scent has been described by some as a painful combination of a festival porta potty, trucker underwear (you know they don’t change those things!), rotten fish, and my favorite … dog fart. You will receive a bottle of this potent liquid and be surprised by the odiferous reminder of your crooked tongue every time your phone detects one of the preset verbal no-nos. If this doesn’t work, well it’s time to embrace your inner convict.
– Smell you later, Diver

 

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