What does this mean to you? Not much. Hey, just like the local evening news! I think I’m onto something here.
Our top story tonight. Ominous fluffy clouds, pregnant with expectation (and moisture), have birthed innumerable litters of chubby drops that the WeatherTrac9000 computer calls “rain.” These drops are currently on a collision course with the place most of us live. The WeathTrac9000 calls that place the “ground.” We are currently projecting that these drops of mostly water will make the ground “wet.”
We start our exclusive News42 team coverage with Alex on remote location standing by a street. Alex?
…three seconds of awkward silence from Alex as he stares into the camera with a fake grin plastered on his face not realizing yet that he’s already on…
That’s right, Cassandra. Weather is coming to a street near you and it is pissed off. I’ll step aside to see if we can get a shot of this. You can clearly see drops of water hitting this street. And that is creating a dangerous situation that leaves some drivers out in the cold.
Earlier today this was the scene, with street surfaces wet. In one case, we found a car pulled over on the side of the road with its blinkers on. That driver was forced to sit and wait and hope that conditions would improve.
Even worse conditions may already be on the way. For that we go to Marko in the WeatherTrac9000 Weather Center. Marko?
That’s right, Alex. We are currently projecting alternating periods of light and dark at approx. 12 hour intervals until further notice. This means some rain may be less visible at certain times. Viewers are advised to remain on this channel for the latest updates as they become available.
For the intelligence-impaired here’s tonight’s Weather-Pick-Toe-Graph. This patented WeatherTrac9000 system helps those suffering from small brain syndrome to help prepare for the weather. Tonight’s picture: The Gorton’s Fishman in bright yellow slickers including full-frontal hoodie. We’re showing him holding a ship’s steering wheel but you don’t actually have to have one of your own.
For the rest of you I will now show lots of slides and animations and maps and use a lot meteorological words for eight full minutes of our 16-minute broadcast (not counting commercials).
This post is dedicated to The Boss whoever it* may be. Ed.
It happened on a work day. (Holy fuck. Is that the scariest opening ever or what?)
It was the arrival of a package that prompted the fun. The boss stopped everything he was doing. Ooh, a package had arrived.
Must. Open. Now.
His fleshy, grubby and unwashed digits picked up the box and it rotated in his massive NFL-style steroid-induced mitts. A piece of gooey food substance jiggled in his beard as he moved.
“Oh look,” he said. “I got something for you.”
Inside? You guessed it. New business cards for my department, the department where he always claimed I was in charge and had autonomy.
The cards were emblazoned with his name. Not mine. And underneath, the business title was printed. “Manager.”
Some time later he indicated with an explosion of gas that he had a “task” for me.
All hail the task!
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Observe: A 20′ x 20′ square office space. Inside are crammed four, count ’em, four (4) human beings. (Yes, that count includes yours truly even though, technically, I don’t number myself among your kind. For the purposes of this post I’ll strive to be flexible.)
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Some random thoughts:
- Regarding Survivor – Nicaragua: Did you see NaOnka’s eyebrows on the reunion show? They are the most incontrovertible proof I’ve seen to date that God doesn’t exist!
- On the job fun: Being reminded by the boss about something trivial that I haven’t missed a single time since originally trained yet being left completely in the dark regarding super-critical information required to do my job while he’s on vacation. Then being “corrected” on the thing I was never told about in the first place. Argh!
- Teamworking: My co-worker discovered an error in a shipment we received. She brought the error to me and said, “You’ll need to write an email to the boss about this” and proceeded to explain the whole scenario. I then asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you wrote the email since you’re the one who already knows about it rather than explaining it to me so I can tell him the information second hand?” She has this habit of pushing all of her unfinished tasks on me and I’m a little fed up with it. For example, she takes calls from customers with questions. She writes it all down, brings it to me, and says, “You’ll need to call this guy back.” WTF? Of course, she was offended with my question. “I was just trying to work together as a team,” she pouted. What a load of guilt trip! “I’ll just write him the email myself,” she moaned. Geeez!
Have a great day, everyone.
Before we begin, I have to ask: How do you think my headline writing skills are coming along? 🙂
I have no issues with golf, other than it’s boring and it’s a sport. (More on the latter coming soon.)
So today we have a news report regarding two douchebags (golfer Corey Pavin and reporter Jim Gray) arguing about a third douchebag (whoring phenom Tiger Woods). And, get this, their fight is about a fucking game. Not just any game but one where you hit a little ball with a stick and try to get that ball into a little hole.
Pay attention! We’re talking about important shit here, people!
Seriously I don’t know if any of them are douchebags. I don’t know these men personally. I’m taking a little artistic license here based solely on behavior. They all just might be wonderful human beings. (Somehow I doubt it.)
So which one is the liar? Without being there it’s hard to say. It’s one of those douche-said douche-said type of situations.
That’s pretty much all I have to say about this topic. Read the link to the story if you still crave additional details. As always I’m simply performing my function of providing a breath of fresh aire and giving important news items of the day much needed context.
The results are in!
I have just completed my unofficial survey of employees at the company where I work. This is a little subversive activity I like to do from time to time outside of the knowledge and consent of management. Heh.
Employees are told their responses will be strictly confidential (except for the internet, of course!) and asked to rate their jobs in five categories on a scale of 1 to 4, poor to excellent respectively. Employee participation in this survey was 100% due to my hounding skills.
Overall Score: 2.08 (Fair)
This score is skewed by an extremely favorable response in the “Team” category. (See below.) If that category is omitted the overall score drops to a dismal 1.66. (Poor/Fair.)
Let’s drill deeper and find the areas of concern to our employees.
Job Security: 2.25 (Fair)
Most employees seem to be a least somewhat concerned about being let go and most don’t see themselves with the company long-term.
Happiness: 1.50 (Poor/Fair)
Only one employee (the newest) rated the company above the bare minimum. We obviously still need more time to bring this employee over to the dark side.
Management: 1.25 (Poor)
This is the category that fared the absolute worst across the board. Employees do not feel motivated by management nor do they feel the company is heading in the right direction.
Pay/Benefits: 1.63 (Poor/Fair)
This was the third highest-scoring category in our survey.
Team: 3.75 (Excellent)
By far the highest-scoring category. Misery apparently loves company. In spite of the best efforts by management some good people have found each other have been able to eke out working relationships that are not entirely toxic. A win-win in the finest sense of the word.
This place sucks and we all know who to blame. Shit flows downhill.
Grease. Dirt. Grime. Wheels. Axles. Gears. Lugs. Nuts. Bolts. Paper clips. Other mechanical thingies.
When the real men gathered around to talk about engines and those other mechanical thingies that make vehicles go, I was never around. I made myself scarce.
Those have never been things that were of interest to me. “You have a 360 block with a 44 magnum under the hood? Wowwie with headers, pipes and mufflers? How about leg warmers, does it have those, too? Is all that shit considered good or did you just describe the equivalent of the Ford Pinto?” Now that is a car I’m familiar with! It explodes when it backs that ass up!
So how is it when I get up and dust myself off that I find myself surrounded by all things mechanical? It’s because when I look up, I only see bus.
You might say it is where I have been thrown. You know what else gets thrown? Garbage! But anywho, I guess that finally explains the tire marks on my face.
Whine alert! The well-written prose above should be more than enough to clue you in that I’m about to whine about my job. Now is your chance to get the hell out of Dodge.
Still here? Sucka!
Where I work I’m the sacrificial lamb. I’m the official speed bump for buses. That’s my job.
Oh, management will spew all sorts of bullshit and meaningless platitudes about how we’re a “team.” That’s just a playful way of saying that shit flows downhill and you live under my butt. We’re more than willing to do all of the fake things that have no meaning whatsoever when it comes to making you think we care. But never forget, we’ll throw you under that boss without a moment’s hesitation. Hahaha!
This time it involved a subtle version of Co-Worker Playing Dumb Deflection Techniques routine. “Yes, I’ve been trained how to save JPG files in email. But not GIF files, oh my. Only my team member Abyss knows how to handle those! I’ll be happy to get him for you.” Of course that’s a bunch of bullshit, but it always goes down that way.
For some on the so-called “team” (ha!) the office culture has evolved into a very convenient paradigm. TIF = Alfredo in the back. Bad Manager will grudgingly handle JPG. But anything else under the sun? That belongs to Abyss. Automatically. Without thought or hesitation. Without the need to ask questions to learn more. Without any sort of goddamn attempt at all to show initiaitve or be a “team” player or think outside the box. If it isn’t the one and only magical JPG then flush it into the mouth of Abyss posthaste. Period. Bar none. End of story. Now get your face under that motherfucking tire now, scum!
It is so delightful to be part of such a “team.”
Of course it goes without saying that the reverse is never true. Oh no, not by a long shot. I’ve trained myself on all sorts of things so I’m sort of viewed as a miracle worker around here. In fact, almost everything I know, including my frickin’ job, I learned on my own initiative. I taught my fucking self.
Even so, I don’t know everything about everyone’s jobs. There are some things I never do or don’t do often enough to be able to do on my own when the chips are down, even though I’m the closest thing ever seen to a real team player in this shithole.
So earlier today I was tossed under the bus because the manager wanted human salad. I was left to run the operation with live customers on things I know nothing about. Not too surprisingly I reached a knowledge impasse and had to go ask her for help. Yes, this is the same “her” that plays the proactive “oh I certainly don’t know how to do that” game at every opportunity.
No surprise what happened next:
The fucking fangs of evil were deployed and aimed at my neck. Alpha dog alert – alpha dog alert – this is not a drill!
“Oh,” she said with a look that could easily put daggers through the titanium hull of the U.S.S. Enterprise. She continued, and I’m paraphrasing here, “What do you want me to do about it? Come up there and wipe your ass for you?”
I just shrugged. It’s only a customer who’s waiting. Which, of course, means that I couldn’t possibly fucking care less. When the company makes money I sure as hell don’t. So with this team player properly chastised by the one who preaches team playing all the time went back to hose down the customer with the tasty water of uselessness. Customer left unsatisfied. Game over. Win-win, baby!
If the company makes X amount my bonus is a $50 gift card to Wal-Mart. If the company makes 10X my bonus is a $50 gift card to Wal-Mart. That’s called the team rewards system.
And that’s all the fuck I have to say about that fuck.
I know this post is written badly but I don’t care. Let someone else on the motherfucking team worry about it.
Also, be sure to stop by the lobby for my new line of “When I Look Up I See Bus” t-shirts. Backstabbing asshole employees not included.
Addendum: While writing this post I received the following in email. “A message to all members of NaBloPoMo. Hey, bloggers! The theme for May blogging is LOOK UP.” Mwuhahahahaha! Looks like I’m off to a good start. 🙂