Dead Fish in a Box

The chronicles of a suburban fishpimp trying to keep it rural.

My Photo
Location: United States

Wednesday, September 15, 2004


On the way to lunch today I noticed something incredibly ironic about the business park we work in. The infamously low-tech Fish house is located in a place called "Technology Drive". I laughed so hard that I nearly blew the fuse on my Pentium 186 workstation.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Taking a dose of my own Medicine

Despite all this talk about nicknames around here, surprising, I have managed to avoid being saddled with any sort of embarrassing moniker.

Until today.

Perhaps it was all the wine I drank over the 4 day weekend, perhaps it was all the training for the 1/2 Marathon in November, perhaps it was sympathy pain for the Huskies, any way you slice it, I feel like poop today (and not the good kind!). So I rolled into work in my tennie-runners and a grey hoody.

unfortunately, in my quest for comfort, I apparently put together a great Ted Kaczynski costume which resulted in my new fishhouse nickname:

The Tunabomber.

Thursday, September 02, 2004


We’re a merciless bunch here in the sales office. All one has to do to confirm this is take a look at some of the nicknames we’ve given each other. I already wrote an entire piece on the Baron, now I’ve got to tell you about the new guy. He’s a former chef – the frou-frou kind who’s always going on about some Belgian truffle oil, or the Lichtenstein Spotted Squab. Big-shot –legend-in-his-own-mind kinda guy. The problem is he’s out of he element up here. In a matter of hours his confidence was shot (the fish biz will do that to a guy), then he made the mistake of calling someone by his nickname before he had earned the guy’s respect.

“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to call me that yet,” he responds, “but since you are going to use my nick name, you’re going to need a new nick name……How about ‘Cat Shit?’ – Yeah, ‘Cat Shit’ will do nicely.”

New Guy backed off pretty quick.

Cat Shit didn’t last long, however – we call him “Chainsaw” now. You’d think “Chainsaw” would be a pretty cool nickname, but it’s a shot at one of his mannerisms – see when ‘The Chain’ first started he had a lot to learn (we all do – Seafood is a backwards and convoluted industry), and whenever he was asked a question he wasn’t sure how to answer he’d say:


Sounded just like grandpa’s Husquavarna. It started out behind his back. Then someone changed his windows wallpaper to this .

We haven’t heard the saw rev up since someone explained it to him.