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"Hey, do you work here?" What a loaded question, I thought with a pause. Now, technically, I "work" here - as in, I get paid by this company, in exchange for reading the forums and drinking Mountain Dew all day (at least, that's what my brain has rationalized). I understand that it is really a buyers market on people with my specific talents (IE, laziness and/or caffeine addiction) - so I better play it cool when questioned. I nodded yes to the man who had asked the question. "Cool, dog..." he replied, whipping out a clipboard. I glanced around the dark parking lot, wondering why the gently caress I had chosen this time in particular to come out for a quick cigarette. It was about 7:30 at night, I was the last person in the office, and I had thought it might be a good idea to sneak out for one last smoke in the cool night air before heading out. I normally don't stay past 4 or 5, but today I was supposed to meet my wife for dinner at a restaurant near my office, so I figured might as well stay at work and gently caress around on the forums until the time came. "What do you need?" I asked the man, pretending to be in a hurry. I'm not horribly happy dealing with... you know... random people in general. Especially when they want something. "I got this delivery here for you guys..." he replied, thrusting the clipboard in my face. He gestured back towards his very old panel truck, idiling next to the loading dock. "Shipping and receiving is open until like 5, man. I think you should come back tomorrow morning..." "Aw, come on man, I'm already running late..." he whined, pushing the clipboard further into my face. I scanned his clothing and the truck, yet was unable to figure out what company he may work for. There was, of course, the chance that he was a spy. I took one last drag off of my cigarette and was about to reply when he cut me off... "But it's CHRISTMAS, man." "It's December third..." "My KIDS don't know the difference..." the man almost pleaded. At this point, I started to get a little uneasy about the situation. I just nodded slowly and took the clipboard. The man smiled and pointed to the line where I had to sign... and I accepted the delivery as "Alexander G. Bell", because I'm not retarded enough to put my name on anything when it comes to this company. In short order, I was presented with three boxes, ranging from very large to very small. As the man pulled away, I looked at the address labels, which were hastilly attached post-it notes with masking tape. They were intended for a co-worker who had been released back in October over a theft scandal. I opened the door and started to kick the boxes inside, weighing my options. There was no return address, no shipping label, and no indication of whom the boxes were delivered by (crazy jittery guy driving a lovely truck). Anthrax or diamonds, I was clueless as to the contents - but curiosity ended up getting me in the end, and I manuevered all the boxes into my empty office. The thought of leaving these boxes outside the door of receiving crossed my mind - but they hardly seemed important, and were intended for somebody who nobody had seen in months. I proceeded to tear into the largest of the three boxes. Nothing could prepare me for what lay within... Globes. Not just one globe, but four globes. And a note. A cryptic note. "Hope you HAve a GLOBErious HAliday!" Yes. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, over. Four spherical representations of the planet earth, all sitting on my office floor - accompanied by a note of questionable origin. I slowly moved over to the middle sized box, wondering what the hell could possibly be inside. More globes. Two to be exact, yet this time without a note. Now, I don't work in any industry that involves High School History teachers, cartographers, or maniacal dictators. The purpose of the gigantic, plastic planets was lost on me at the time, but I continued in my opening process. As I tore into the smallest box, I was greeted with yet another note, this one a bit more lengthy. "Figured you could use this stuff for a party. We haven't talked in a while, make sure to message me. - Candice" Inside the box were dozens upon dozens of packets. Packets of... seeds. Wildflower seeds. And, of course, combs. Fourteen Ace combs. I stood up and backed slowly away from the loot, plopping down in my chair. A cold winter wind shook the plane of glass behind me as I stared blankly down at the assortment of "party" items on the floor. Globes. Seeds. Combs. Party. I needed a drink. But first, I needed some kind of kind reassurance that I was still sane. Just the slightest comforting voice that said to me "Hey, you're OK man. It's the WORLD that is hosed up..." I tried my wife on her cell phone - no luck. Without thinking, I dialed the number to my old office down south. Now, I don't really work anymore, but there was a time that I was a manager of a very large department at this company. For years I hired, trained, molded, and sometimes fired dozens and dozens of people. Relationships were formed, relationships that carried on to this day. I still get EMails and phone calls from some of my old employees - asking for my advice on certain things. I knew that one of my dearest work friends was on the night shift that evening in our corporate office, so I dialed his direct line. "Hey, I've got a bit of a problem..." I started, " I've come into possession of a goodly number of, um, random items." "Like what?" My friend asked. "Oh, like... um, globes." There was a bit of laughter on the other end of the phone, then a quick reply "Probably for the management types there. Everybody has a globe." This made me think. I closed my eyes and thought back to as many offices that I could remember in this company - and a startling revelation was had. EVERYBODY had a globe, but I never realized it until the motherload of earthly scale-modeling was dumped into my lap. I mean, really, how often do you notice a globe? When you see one, do you ever stop and wonder why its there? A decoration of sorts, or something more sinister... "Hey, I've got a question for you..." I was snapped back to reality by the change of subject. My friend went into a long situation about a problem that he was having with a certain aspect of his job (the job that is done by the department that I used to run). I listened intently, then suggested a course of action that, although somewhat against the norm, would alleviate the problem in a timely and orderly fashion. My friend thanked me and hung up - and I walked out the door, leaving the random items sitting on the floor of my office, vowing to deal with it at a later date. FIVE DAYS LATER There's only so much that you can do with a globe, I had come to find out. I had taken one of them out and placed it upon my desk, and had been staring at it off and on for a day and a half. So far, the uses for a globe, as discovered by me through intense testing, were: 1. Spin real fast. 2. Use your index and middle finger to "run" across the equator. Try to step only on land (for added difficulty points). 3. Play "President of the United States". Spin globe real fast, close your eyes, point to place on globe. Repeat three times, declare the three indicated locations as your own personal "Axis of Evil" (Mine is Spain, Arizona, and the Indian Ocean). As I sat, slack jawed, staring at the globe... something truly horrible happened. My door swung open, and standing at the entrance to my office, was a Vice President. I knew the man well, and had worked in close conjunction with him numerous times in my old position. I hadn't seen nor heard from him since my move to the remote satellite location in Detroit. I had no idea he was even in the state, let alone the office this morning (I was unaware there was an all-employee management meeting in town). I nearly froze in fear as my right hand subconsciously scrambled for the mouse, minimizing everything on my computer screen.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 22:59 |
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# ? Apr 26, 2024 13:25 |
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"Mr. Moonshine", he began, "how's it going? Long time, no see." "Very well fag," I managed to form the reply. My eyes darted left and right, searching for anything incriminating in my office. Aside from OSHA posters from wall to wall, and a big pile of seeds, combs, and globes in the corner, everything looked almost professional. "I've got a problem," he began. I gestured towards a chair across from my desk, snapping back as quickly as possible into whatever management mode I still had encoded in my brain. "Well, its everybody's problem. I think you know who I'm referring to." I shook my head. "Mr. Dipshit," he continued, and I nodded. Mr. Dipshit was technically my old boss when I worked at the corporate office - but he was the epitome of everything that you would not want in an executive position. He was clueless as to the specifics of the job, poorly groomed, racist, a liar and a crook - who took personal vendettas to the next level. He also despised me from the start, as I was constantly making him look bad - because of my longevity at the company, I was friends with quite a few people in senior management, and this always frightened him. Instead of coming to him, most would go behind his back and come to me - so he had been gunning for me the entire time that we worked together. However, given my current situation, I figured that he had all but forgotten about me. I was quite wrong though. "Mr. Dipshit calls me yesterday and says that you're going behind his back and trying to purposely sabotage his operation..." I blinked slightly and asked "he said what?" Mr. VP smiled and continued "Oh, yeah - he's up in a roar. He swears that you're sitting here running the company from your desk." I attempted to stifle a giggle. Mr. VP (who hates Mr. Dipshit as much as the next guy), nodded and said "And I told him that I almost guarantee that you run his department from your desk. I've talked to some of his people down there, and they all insist that you're always there to help them out - whereas most of the time they can never find him." I sensed that the conversation might be taking a bad turn, so I tried to turn it back, "I never try to run anything. If people need help, I give that assistance - we're all on the same team fag. But, if Mr. Dipshit feels like I'm encroaching, I'll back off and let it be." Mr. VP raised his hand and shook his head, "No, no. I want to make sure that things run right. I know that you're horribly busy up here, but I want to make sure that you're available for consultation, if need be." I nodded, pretending that - in addition to my tremendous workload of posting on the SA forums - I would sacrifice and answer a couple of EMails a day, then asked, "But what about Dipshit?" "Don't worry about Dipshit," VP replied, snickering, " He's got a hardon for you, Moonshine. In more ways than one ." I tried not to show any emotion as my brain tried to rationalize that statement. He couldn't have meant what I thought that he meant, right? I mean, there's no way that a troll-like human being who's never been introduced to a Q-Tip or nosehair trimmer could be... no. No. No. Cleanse my thoughts. "Heh" I replied, my worried eyes betraying my true feelings. "I knew I could count on you, Moonshine." Mr VP said, as he stood up and walked towards the door. He stopped for a second, looking back at me. "What is your title?" I snapped back to reality as soon as possible, and tried the soft answer "Still a manager..." VP nodded, then pointed at my desk, "I'll make sure you get the management globe," he promised, then walked out the door. EPILOGUE My globe with the executive wooden stand appeared a few days later, and now occupies a place of honor in my small office. Every once in a while, when I leave my door open, people will walk by and glance in - and, although nearly imperceptable - I can tell that their posture straightens up a bit when their eyes come across that piece of furniture - that simple little object which says to the world "I am a monster of the corporate world. Within twenty seconds I can tell you the capitol of Madagascar. Now, fetch me some coffee." The six original globes still sit, stacked up, beside my bookcase. What to do with them remains a mystery - I'm absolutely positive that one is earmarked for my SA Secret Santa, but as for the other 5, perhaps I'll just leave them on random people's desks at work. If the secretary in accounting seems to be having a bad day, she may just come in the next day to a bright, shiny, blue ball of plastic sitting on her desk. And maybe, just maybe, that will be all the motivation needed for her to continue striving on in the corporate jungle. The seeds and combs have all been distributed by random sampling. In the spirit of the season, I went through our Microsoft Outlook address box and picked the random names of employees all across America, and sent them manilla envelopes filled with either seeds or combs, or a combination thereof - no return address, just little notes like "Merry Christmas, here's a comb", and "SEEDSions Greetings!". The poor man's Kris Kringle, I surely am - spreading wildflowers and well groomed hair companywide. The phone rang bright and early this monday morning. I finished the paragraph that I was reading on ESPN.COM, and went for the phone. "Mr. Moonshine!" came the voice from a cell phone. "Mr. Vice President!" I replied. "Just checking up on you - anything negative from Mr. Dipshit?" Now, I had received a grand total of one EMail since the last conversation, and had solved that minor problem in a grand total of five minutes. But, he didn't have to know that... "Well, there's a lot of stuff, but I'm keeping it in line, fag." "Very good, continue 'Running the company', Moonshine!" he said with a laugh. "Will do," I replied, and hung up the phone. I thought for a second, looked down at my cellphone, and proceeded to "run the company" in the most productive fashion that I could think of... I beat my high score in "Snake".
Graveyard Grandma fucked around with this message at 20:21 on Oct 25, 2004 |
# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:00 |
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5 Now to read it... ♫•*¨*•¸♫♪.•**♫♪ ♫•*¨*•¸♫
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:00 |
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Good stuff, very funny. Alexander G. Bell is probably one of those names where your average delivery man won't pick up on it immidiately.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:05 |
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quote:Moonshine came out of the closet to say: Windows-key+M, dude. Save your life.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:06 |
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quote:VP nodded, then pointed at my desk, "I'll make sure you get the management globe," he promised, then walked out the door. This is, quite possibly, the most surreal sentance I have ever read. Also, do let me know if you ever need a secretary. I type 90+ words a minute, file, and have mastered the art of looking busy. Incredibly busy. Also, if you have a secretary, it's obviously because you are veru busy and important. For serious. http://www.brigidkeely.com/wordpress
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:06 |
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I also have a hard-on for you.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:07 |
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Very nice!!! All I want to know, is there some truth behind this story, and where the hell do you work? Need a cryptography consultant or something....I'd like to work for you.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:08 |
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Yet another excellent post.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:09 |
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I wish I had a management globe but since I work for myself no one will give me one. :( (P.S. Hilarious story. 5.) ----------------
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:10 |
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I'm your biggest fan, and I see really good things in your future. Absolutely hilarious and brilliantly told.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:11 |
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Wow, that was cool. Can I have a globe?
<-- SA-MART!!1! IM POOR AND LIVING IN A BOX
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:12 |
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quote:Entropy++; came out of the closet to say: Trade ya for a veggie burger?
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:14 |
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I too would like an autographed globe mr. moonshine. "the walls have ears and the fat man walks slowly."
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:14 |
quote:FirstBlud came out of the closet to say:
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:16 |
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I really love these stories.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:16 |
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Great story, I wonder what the hell this Candice person was thinking? OMG COULD SHE BE A GOON!!!?!??!??!
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:18 |
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Sounds a little like my last job... if I do NOTHING and everyone considers me the best worker here, what the hell is everyone else doing??
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:18 |
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quote:Moonshine came out of the closet to say: SOLD! Whenever I get my first batch of homebrew I should figure out a way to smuggle some over to ya. <-- SA-MART!!1! IM POOR AND LIVING IN A BOX
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:18 |
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Keep on rockin' the corporate world! 5 1093685759
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:19 |
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quote:Keshik came out of the closet to say: Mr. Moonshine, I commend you on quite possibly the best running tale on the SA forums. This is just too good to be anything but true. 5
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:21 |
Antananarivo.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:21 |
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I have sucessfully added Part 5 to the other 4. If you do not release these in short story format, I must do it myself. You rock. ps, 5
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:23 |
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Was I the only one expecting drugs or something to be inside the globes? Oh well, great stories I love them all.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:25 |
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quote:Hand Row came out of the closet to say: He never said he checked inside of them... ----------------
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:26 |
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So...can you give the lesser globes to other people and instantly make them your underlings? Five, sir, and I look forward to the next installment.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:26 |
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I totally and absolutely love your threads, and although I've disagreed with you and pissed you off in the past, I want you to know that you're one of my favorite posters.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:28 |
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That was awesome to read, but terribly strange at the same time.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:28 |
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quote:gallilee came out of the closet to say:
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:29 |
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Keep working hard, Moonshine. 5.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:31 |
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Maybe Candice was just like you... She somehow ended up with random shipments of seeds, combs, and globes and chose to randomly mail them to people around the world. I-I feel as if my faith in humanity has been restored. Or, you just sent anthraxseeds as a holiday present to several lucky co-workers. No matter what, 5.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:31 |
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Hrm, let's see:quote:"Figured you could use this stuff for a party. We haven't talked in a while, make sure to message me." A delivery like that, with globes and "wildflower seeds". I'm taking bets that you got sent opium poppy seeds or some other hallucinogen, or at the very least have globes filled with some sort of substance. Perhaps you should try shaking them?
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:34 |
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A pleasure to read as always, thank you. Now, do you or anyone else have the previous parts in a handy file or webpage you could share with me (and probably others)? I remember you posted links in the previous installment but some were invalid threads I think.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:35 |
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This is absolute gold, you had me laughing the whole way through. Good job moonshine Also was wondering if anyone could post the link to the rest of these threads, thanks
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:35 |
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Godamnit Moonshine, I think I love you.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:35 |
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quote:Goreld came out of the closet to say: Nope, they're not filled with a thing. And the seeds were all sealed, and looked legit. Who the hell knows, though.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:36 |
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quote:Moonshine came out of the closet to say: Best (and funniest) use for a globe EVER. You, sir, receive five golden manbabies. TCC: If you see this sig, it means that for once I wasn't too hosed up to remember the checkbox.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:37 |
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quote:"SEEDSions Greetings!" Tomorrow...i buy seeds !!! great story!
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:39 |
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Having not read the other 4, I'm still glad I clicked on this thread. Beautiful.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:39 |
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# ? Apr 26, 2024 13:25 |
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If you were to distill the forums down and wring them out, this thread would be the feisty shot of goodness that remained. Big fan. Fives all around.
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# ? Dec 11, 2002 23:41 |