Puke Of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
As I walk through this world
Nothing can stop the Puke of Hurl
And you, the trap you unfurled
And you can so hurt me, oh yes
TWO DAYS EARLIER
I love leftovers. There I was at the fast food restaurant picking up dinner when I had my aha moment. I’ll get extra deep fried things on purpose so I’ll have enough for leftovers in the future.
Eureka.
It would be something, a small thing, that I was actually looking forward to.
Meanwhile, deep in the Pacific Ocean, somewhere over the Great Pacific garbage patch, ominous dark swirling clouds began to form.
PRESENT DAY
It was almost lunch time. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was in a good mood. I was on the way to the kitchen to prep my lunch. The lunch I had been looking forward to for two whole days. There was a bounce in my step as I walked down the hall. I hummed a little song to myself. I paused in the living room and played a game of peek-a-boo with the cat.
In less than five minutes I would be dead.
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Protect Thy Ass
A company sells a product called the Widget Beep 9000. The sole purpose of this gadget is to “beep” when the customer wants it. That’s it. That’s all it does.
Obviously that motherfucker sells like hotcakes. Because, we needs it.
The company (heretofore known as the Company), however, has an “agreement” that, somehow, you (heretofore known as the Schmuck) accepted simply by buying their product. Clever how that shit works.
When the time is right, pursuant to the terms of the agreement, the Company fully asserts the “absolute right and power, in its sole discretion and without any liability to Schmuck whatsoever, to cease all beeping operations of the widget, without prior notice, in perpetuity throughout the universe, known and unknown.”
Why the fuck would anyone ever agree to terms like that? Ultimately, giving someone money is giving them the power to fuck you.
I wonder how agreements like these worked in colonial times?
“Hey, Washington, I find myself in need of another one of your colonial-era chairs whittled by hand from a block of solid cherry. This will complete my collection. Anon my family will finally be able to break bread and conduct fellowship, at the same time, around hearth, heart and dining room table.”
“Hey, Adams, you useless pustule of a puke. Don’t talk to me about it. Talk to my corporation.”
“By George, what the hell is a corporation?”
“Allow me to don ye olde corporation hat and assplain it you. It’s Step #1 in fucking you red, black and blue.”
“Jolly good!”
“Now then, I direct you to focus your attention on this. I agree to sell you quantity one of Whittled Cherry 9000 and you give me 5,000 quid of two bits. Furthermore, be it known, that I alone will always decide who may sit – or not – on said chair, if ever.”
“Holy shit. That sounds like an awesome deal to me. I can’t give you my quid bits fast enough. Here, take my money! God, I love you so much, George. That’s another one I owe you. You accept tips, right? Here, try a pint of my latest brew!”
“Why the hell do we still measure things in English measurements, like pints? Gods ye fools! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“Okay, whatever. Here’s your chair, puke face. Just never sit on it. Now fuck off, ye pukey puke.”
“If only Yelp! had been invented by now, I would herald the news of your beneficence to all the land, from sea to shining sea!”
Indeed. Think Adams sounds like a schmuck? I advise you to check your credit card agreements, especially the section pertaining to “binding arbitration.” You should love it because you agreed to it!
Ha ha ha, you pustule of a schmuck.
Moved
“You’ve got a keen eye, my man. This baby is hot.”
The salesman had seemingly materialized out of thin air. Suddenly he was saddled up and comfy cozy with the customer, on his elbow, and so shoulder-to-shoulder they were actually touching. The customer, in awe of a shiny object, missed the intrusion, and in so doing, a tiny layer of self-protection had been peeled back inside his brain.
“Nothing else can touch her,” the salesman boasted in a silky-smooth voice. Suddenly the object was personified with a female pronoun. We’re all just friends here and getting friendlier every moment. Desire in the customer imperceptibly kicked up another gear.
“Bluetooth ready with seamless integration for all of your devices. Phone, calendar, and email, of course. But also Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, and our latest innovation: hands-free texting. She generates her own wifi hotspots, too.”
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Bulldozer Science Chit Chat
I’m the cutest slice. Orange you impressed?
I’m formulating a new hypothesis to fit observable phenomena pertaining to the human act of communication. If you can call one-way verbal vomit “communication,” that is. We may have to take a few liberties with our assumptions.
The lab is a controlled environment: A square room with dimensions of 20′ x 20′ and four test subjects locked inside.
It’s a beautiful human-based ballet and we get to watch it play out. Isn’t science a gas?
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I estimate you suck
This is yet another work-related post in a long series of work-related posts. Sorry, sometimes work just has to come out of me, usually in the form of vomit and/or poop.
The boss came to me a few weeks ago and said he wanted a company-only “wiki.” Yeah, just like that famous encyclopedic one. He explained it would be a good place for everyone on the team to document critical information. We’d all benefit by having searchable information at our fingertips.
Even I had to admit that sounded like a logical good idea, if everyone chipped it and actually used the tool effectively.
I should have smelled a rat.
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Resume ethics
Note: I don’t do funny little funny marks over letters in words. This post will feature the American spelling of “resume.” That makes this post safe for all of us to enjoy. -Ed.
“A resume is advertising. You are marketing yourself.”
Marketing? I just threw up in my mouth a little. Isn’t marketing another word for “lies?”
Indeed!
Funny, but I’ve never lied on a resume. Perhaps it is my analytical nature. As a computer programmer (an unpaid hobby, to be sure) I deal with facts and logic. It is illogical to put anything on a resume that is not completely factual.
I’ve never even fibbed. Or exaggerated. Or used my most famous artistic license to embellish in some small, innocent way. Nope, that’s not how I roll.
I assume I am alone in this. I guess I get off on being different.
I happen to know a guy. He was born and raised in New Zealand, then moved to the United States. He lied on his resume about graduating from college. He got a job at a big entertainment company. One we’ve all heard of. He then jumped to a new entertainment company (one we’ve all heard of) and became a vice-president of one of their departments. He then jumped yet again, to a big entertainment company, where he is currently a senior vice-president. He has the all-American family. That’s 2.5 kids, a dog and a cat, drives a car worth more than my house (rented), a wrist-watch more valuable than my net worth, and lives in a mansion.
There’s a lesson in there somewhere, if one is willing to pay close attention. Be honest and lick boots. Lie through your teeth and get the keys to the kingdom. Dammit. I wish I could see the lesson!
A quick search of ye olde internet reveals a plethora of infomatums about resumes and honesty. I even found a site that advises you on seven lies you can (probably) get away with on your resume. Wow.
Many Human Resources staffers preach the dangers of lying on your resume, and they’re right to an extent.
–Unnamed internet source
To an extent? Here we see our old friend, “the ends justifies the means.” Also known as That Which Makes Business Go. You can take that “extent” and shove it where the sun don’t shine.
Not too surprisingly, my resume is a bit different than the average bear. No, I didn’t suffer from a spate of creativity and make it 3D, turn it into a Dungeons and Dragons character sheet, or use a layout evocative of the board game Life. It’s just plain boring text. Logical.
What I did do was take up valuable vertical real estate on the page to insert a single line of text, in large font and bold, that stakes my claim to ethics and integrity.
I know, I know. Most people who have seen this knee jerk and say, “Anyone who claims they are ethical probably isn’t.” Touche, touche! (Again, no little funny marks in my words.)
Naturally when someone comes up to you and says, “I’m not a liar,” you don’t believe them, do you? It’s a bit like “thou dost protest too much.” To believe someone who says such a thing about themselves would be extremely foolish. And yet, I saw fit to include a line about ethics in my resume. What does that make me? Hopeful? An optimist that my message will be received in a good way? Bah!
I don’t know why, but I think about things like ethics, values, and morality quite a bit. I often wonder how much the average person proactively thinks about things like this? I’m guessing it isn’t that much, unless the context is how to get away with doing the opposite. I imagine I think about such things more than most, but less than some. In fact, I actually consider myself a hobbyist ethicist. As an added bonus, such considerations and evaluation of the world around me make a wonderful font for my negativity.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I’m expert on the subject. In fact, that’s why I maintain my amateur status, just in case they decide to start an Olympics for something important, you know, something other than sports. The Olympics are a movement! And everybody needs one! (Kudos to Harry Shearer.) I want a chance to represent my country, too! (They do give out participant ribbons, don’t they?)
The other day, by chance, I overheard the boss and coworker discussing something, and it came up that the listing for the job we both applied for contained the word “ethical.” I didn’t remember that.
How odd, I said to myself. I did a little recap of some of the things I’ve seen this guy do with my very own eyes:
- Create dummy companies, shipping drops and fake identities to purchase products
- Deliberately lie on his website about product status as “in stock” so he can talk the customer into something else
- Include a fake Photoshopped picture of his business on his website
- Tell local customers that our facility is not retail (so please don’t stop by – we don’t like that)
- Tell suppliers that our facility is retail so they will sell to us (even though we’re internet only)
- Work on a project with his son to Photoshop a fake business license for the City (rather than buy one – luckily he got caught)
I guess it begs the question: What in the name of Zeus’ butthole does this guy consider ethical to mean?
I already know the answer: Anything which makes him money.
He actually considers himself a good person, good in his religion, and yes, ethical. As the resident atheist, he often turns to me for my opinion, which I share when asked. We’ve learned to agree to disagree. (With the added caveat on my side that I can also despise.)
Here’s the rub, though. If you are so unethical in a myriad of ways ingrained into your business, why in the name of Zeus’ butthole would you hire someone who claims, right on their resume, to be “ethical.” Someone who says, in the very placement of the word, that it is one of the most important things to know about them?
And then, after hiring that person, why would you then allow them to peek behind the curtain and see, in full glory, all of the shitty little unethical things that you do?
It doesn’t make sense. The only possible conclusion I can come up with is that it is intentional. It’s some sort of power-based mind fuck.
Or, as I call it, my job.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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