Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, because I shall never have to copy & paste 78 pages of text again.
Amen.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
CSN Stores Giveaway!
If there is one thing worse than this miserable winter weather, it is suffering through it from inside a bland gray cubicle. Couldn't we all use some cute new office accessories to spice things up? Or maybe some modern office furniture to replace the outdated stuff? As much as we'd love to just pack up our belongings and go home, realistically it does help to add a personal touch to the place you are forced to spend 8 hours a day.
And now, thanks to CSN Stores, I am giving away a $35 gift certificate to use at any of their 200 online stores! You'll also be able to find anything you need for your home, pets, kids, etc. Pretty much the rest of your life outside the cube.
To enter simply post a comment below telling me one thing you've done to help spice up your cubicle. Earn another entry by liking me on Facebook or following me on Twitter and posting about it here. I will pick a winner at random on February 7th.
Good luck!
And now, thanks to CSN Stores, I am giving away a $35 gift certificate to use at any of their 200 online stores! You'll also be able to find anything you need for your home, pets, kids, etc. Pretty much the rest of your life outside the cube.
To enter simply post a comment below telling me one thing you've done to help spice up your cubicle. Earn another entry by liking me on Facebook or following me on Twitter and posting about it here. I will pick a winner at random on February 7th.
Good luck!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
An Open Letter to Old Man Winter
Dear OMW:
Yeah, you. Pry those bony icicles you call fingers off the remote control and come talk to me for a minute. What did we do to deserve all this? Did someone insult you? Did someone say "Hey look at Old Man Winter, he hasn't even caused an ice age in 20,000 years! He's soooo lame!" and hurt your feelings? If so, I apologize. Apparently they didn't know what kind of cold-hearted elfin bastard they were messing with. But I know this - while you're hanging around in your bathrobe, picking ice crystals out of your beard, and watching Maury Povich, some us have a little place to get to called work. I mean, fine, you're pissed at us. I get that. Wave your little wand, say your little rhymes, and make it snow if you really need to prove your worth. But could you at least cool it during rush hour? You are literally killing us here. We are crashing our cars and sitting through three hour commutes just to avoid wasting another vacation day. So please, just go take a shower, have a cup of coffee, and relax. It's only January for Christ sake, ever hear of pacing yourself?
And now, on top of everything that we've been through, you decide to crank out below zero temperatures? Are you kidding me, Old Man? Did that meteorologist from Channel 7 slip you a fifty so he could have a severe weather alert to rant and rave about on Sunday night? Hey, when Old Man Winter's such an easy sellout, why not pay him a visit? Everyone knows he left all his morals back in the Blizzard of '78. I hope you're real proud of yourself.
I'll leave you with this one piece of advice - if you don't cut it out soon, Karma is going to be a real bitch. You may be big, tough, Old Man Winter now, but before you know it you'll be locked up in the nursing home playing Bingo all day with Father Time. And when you see him, would you do me a favor? Tell him I said thanks a lot for Daylight Savings.
Jerks.
Yeah, you. Pry those bony icicles you call fingers off the remote control and come talk to me for a minute. What did we do to deserve all this? Did someone insult you? Did someone say "Hey look at Old Man Winter, he hasn't even caused an ice age in 20,000 years! He's soooo lame!" and hurt your feelings? If so, I apologize. Apparently they didn't know what kind of cold-hearted elfin bastard they were messing with. But I know this - while you're hanging around in your bathrobe, picking ice crystals out of your beard, and watching Maury Povich, some us have a little place to get to called work. I mean, fine, you're pissed at us. I get that. Wave your little wand, say your little rhymes, and make it snow if you really need to prove your worth. But could you at least cool it during rush hour? You are literally killing us here. We are crashing our cars and sitting through three hour commutes just to avoid wasting another vacation day. So please, just go take a shower, have a cup of coffee, and relax. It's only January for Christ sake, ever hear of pacing yourself?
And now, on top of everything that we've been through, you decide to crank out below zero temperatures? Are you kidding me, Old Man? Did that meteorologist from Channel 7 slip you a fifty so he could have a severe weather alert to rant and rave about on Sunday night? Hey, when Old Man Winter's such an easy sellout, why not pay him a visit? Everyone knows he left all his morals back in the Blizzard of '78. I hope you're real proud of yourself.
I'll leave you with this one piece of advice - if you don't cut it out soon, Karma is going to be a real bitch. You may be big, tough, Old Man Winter now, but before you know it you'll be locked up in the nursing home playing Bingo all day with Father Time. And when you see him, would you do me a favor? Tell him I said thanks a lot for Daylight Savings.
Jerks.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Welcome to City Hall: Please Press 1 for Dr. Kevorkian
For me, there is no better time to hate on city hall employees than a three day weekend that I am forced to work. With Monday being MLK, Jr. Day, and me having spent the entire day in my cubicle trying to telekinetically move an avocado, let's not waste another minute.
A good part of my job involves having to request information from city and town halls all over the state. Below is a transcript of every city hall conversation I have ever had:
Whatever it is that makes you do the things you do, City Hall, just remember that I hate you. And if you're hiring...call me.
A good part of my job involves having to request information from city and town halls all over the state. Below is a transcript of every city hall conversation I have ever had:
Recorded Message: Welcome to the City of ______ . Due to our website not being updated since the original launch of the Internet, you are calling to obtain basic information. Please press 1 for the City Clerk, 2 for the Building Department....
90 Year Old Woman: Good afternoon, Building Department.
Me: Hi, I was just trying to find out where to get a copy of a building permit application?
90 Year Old Woman: A building permit application? Hey Marge? Do we do building permits here? Oh, no, you need the Zoning Department.
Me: But this is the Building Department and I need a building application.
90 Year Old Woman: Yes, I'll transfer you.
80 Year Old Woman: Good afternoon, Zoning Department.
Me: Hi, I'm trying to get a copy of a building permit application?
80 Year Old Woman: Why would I have a building permit application? No, honey, you need to call the Building Department.
Me: I did. They just sent me to you.
80 Year Old Woman: Perfect, I'll transfer you.
Recorded Message of 90 Year Old Woman: Welcome to the City of _____ Building Department. Our office hours are 11:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Monday through Thursday. Please leave a message.
Me: {Dead from telephone cord strangulation}No matter what question you have for a particular department, it is guaranteed that they will have no idea what you're talking about. If you ask the City Clerk about a marriage certificate she'll transfer you to the DPW. Looking for the dog officer? Ask the Town Planner a few questions, he'll get you there. Need to check your property taxes? The Assessor will gladly transfer you to Meals on Wheels. It never fails. Perhaps, in some kind of Jack Nicholson/The Shining kind of way, it has to do with town offices being located inside creepy abandoned elementary schools. Perhaps it's because most of the employees can remember watching first run episodes of Leave it to Beaver. Or maybe it's just the fact that they get every single holiday off and are milking their cushy jobs for all they are worth. Don't even get me started on Evacuation and Bunker Hill Days if you hit the God damned lottery and work in Suffolk County.
Whatever it is that makes you do the things you do, City Hall, just remember that I hate you. And if you're hiring...call me.
 |
| Closed for Arbor Day |
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Office Chair
I just found this on Twitter and it is now my #2 favorite thing of the week (#1 being Ricky Gervais at the Golden Globes).
@Office Chair simply tweets every time it is farted on by its occupant. Genius!
Some sample quotes:
"Didn't hear that coming."
"Someone please disassemble me."
@Office Chair simply tweets every time it is farted on by its occupant. Genius!
Some sample quotes:
"Didn't hear that coming."
"Someone please disassemble me."
Monday, January 17, 2011
Imma M___F____P.I.M.P
It's cool that I was introduced to the new guy while the explicit version of P.I.M.P. played in the background on my iPod, right? Right?!?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
iPhone Notepads!
How great are these iPhone notepads from Sorting with Style? Get yourself one and before you know it you'll be stopping to play a game of Bejeweled Blitz midway through writing down some boring client's phone number.
Or better yet, win one in the iPhone notepad giveaway!
Rhinovirus Achieving New Year's Resolution of Total Office Domination
Only six days into 2011 and human rhinovirus has proudly announced its near complete domination of Hadley, Brown, & Burrows, LLC. Work production at the marketing agency of 26 employees has screeched to a halt as the sounds of post-nasal drip and desperate pleas for Halls Mentho-Lyptus make it virtually impossible to concentrate.
"I had my doubts at first," said the single-stranded positive sense RNA genome, relaxing in a smudge of fecal matter atop George Carlson's keyboard. "But then I teamed up with norovirus over there by the fax machine, and coronavirus over there by the - well, he's pretty much on every non-porous surface in this place - and we've achieved so much more than I ever could've dreamed."
Starting out in HR Director Madeleine Bernstein's nasal passage, and traveling via a shower of respiratory droplets onto a leftover birthday cake, rhinovirus described how three chatty broads pretty much licked him right off their chocolate frosting covered fingers. "They were going on and on about The Biggest Loser and then, Jesus, it was like Christmas all over again - one of them actually used her saliva-covered fork to cut herself another slice."
With the chuckle of one remembering good times of days gone by, rhino relates how it was almost "too easy" to infect the male population of the office. "Everyone knows Larry doesn't wash his hands after he takes a leak," laughed the imperialistic germ, twirling its single, long polypeptide. "That bathroom door handle is like the Holy Land of my people. You just sit and wait and hosts come to you. Maintenance even installed one of those hand sanitizer dispensers, you know, for after you wash your hands. Please, that's two more steps than ole Lar' has time for."
If all goes as planned, rhino and his gang plan to have the entire office feeling like absolute shit within the week.
"The best part is that these people won't even take a sick day," said rhino, straddling the sides of a juicy booger that has made its way from Mary Ellen's nose, to her finger, to a stack of paper coffee cups. "These people wouldn't call in sick unless they were practically dead. And if I can get that deal with H1N1 finalized, we may be able to make that happen."
"I had my doubts at first," said the single-stranded positive sense RNA genome, relaxing in a smudge of fecal matter atop George Carlson's keyboard. "But then I teamed up with norovirus over there by the fax machine, and coronavirus over there by the - well, he's pretty much on every non-porous surface in this place - and we've achieved so much more than I ever could've dreamed."
Starting out in HR Director Madeleine Bernstein's nasal passage, and traveling via a shower of respiratory droplets onto a leftover birthday cake, rhinovirus described how three chatty broads pretty much licked him right off their chocolate frosting covered fingers. "They were going on and on about The Biggest Loser and then, Jesus, it was like Christmas all over again - one of them actually used her saliva-covered fork to cut herself another slice."
With the chuckle of one remembering good times of days gone by, rhino relates how it was almost "too easy" to infect the male population of the office. "Everyone knows Larry doesn't wash his hands after he takes a leak," laughed the imperialistic germ, twirling its single, long polypeptide. "That bathroom door handle is like the Holy Land of my people. You just sit and wait and hosts come to you. Maintenance even installed one of those hand sanitizer dispensers, you know, for after you wash your hands. Please, that's two more steps than ole Lar' has time for."
If all goes as planned, rhino and his gang plan to have the entire office feeling like absolute shit within the week.
"The best part is that these people won't even take a sick day," said rhino, straddling the sides of a juicy booger that has made its way from Mary Ellen's nose, to her finger, to a stack of paper coffee cups. "These people wouldn't call in sick unless they were practically dead. And if I can get that deal with H1N1 finalized, we may be able to make that happen."
 |
| Come closer, I want to tell you a secret. |
Monday, January 3, 2011
Snow Day
I watched a lot of QVC this weekend. I watched well over 12,000 sets of prune colored sweatsuits fly off the shelves and into the homes of people such as Belinda from Houston who fails to realize that three easy payments of $19.99 is way too much to pay for loungewear - even if the sales lady tells you that it can be dressed up with a nice pair of heels. Heels, Belinda. Not Crocs.
Anyhow, midway through touting a pair of faux fur lined clogs that are capable of keeping your feet dry and, from the sounds of it, curing cancer, the sales lady mentioned that in order to make it to QVC in the middle of a blizzard, she had to stay overnight at the local hotel. Which leads at last to my main point:
1. Since splitting with Vanessa Hudgens, Zac Efron has publicly announced his burning desire to find a 32 year old socially awkward secretary with whom to share his life. In order to find a candidate with enough dedication to be considered worthy of betrothal, he is to begin his search of East Coast civil engineering firms immediately following a major blizzard.
2. In possession of a winning $132 million Powerball ticket, I am planning to give my two weeks notice the day of said storm. Giving two weeks notice for any other reason, such as finding another shitty corporate job, can certainly wait until the weather clears. But the sheer filthiness of my riches requires that I book a junior suite at the Red Roof Inn, get wasted on Clamato juice and vodka, and drive my smug self into work without delay.
3. The first fifteen people into the office will be cast as extras in the yet uncontemplated 2020 remake of Lord of the Rings.
Anything other than that, I'm taking a snow day.
The Only Reasons Secretary4Life Would Ever Stay at a Hotel in Order to Make it Into Work During a Blizzard:
1. Since splitting with Vanessa Hudgens, Zac Efron has publicly announced his burning desire to find a 32 year old socially awkward secretary with whom to share his life. In order to find a candidate with enough dedication to be considered worthy of betrothal, he is to begin his search of East Coast civil engineering firms immediately following a major blizzard.
2. In possession of a winning $132 million Powerball ticket, I am planning to give my two weeks notice the day of said storm. Giving two weeks notice for any other reason, such as finding another shitty corporate job, can certainly wait until the weather clears. But the sheer filthiness of my riches requires that I book a junior suite at the Red Roof Inn, get wasted on Clamato juice and vodka, and drive my smug self into work without delay.
3. The first fifteen people into the office will be cast as extras in the yet uncontemplated 2020 remake of Lord of the Rings.
Anything other than that, I'm taking a snow day.
Cookie Monster
Is it necessary to give nutrition information for both "1 cookie" and "entire package"? Just give me the information for both cookies, and if I'm the kind a lunatic who could only eat one of them, I would just divide it in half. Now I'm forced to think "Gee, maybe I wasn't supposed to have eaten both. Maybe I'm just a no-will-power tub-a-lub with oatmeal cookie crumbs dripping out of her beard." And there's Nabisco standing by nodding sadly in agreement, knowingly elbowing the Keebler Elf. Whatever you jerks, it's 5:00 and I can eat whatever I want before I go to the gym.
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