Mental Floss: Whine Enthusiast

When was the defining moment when I considered myself a world-class whine enthusiast? There have been obvious moments in my life where I've raised the bar and my voice to a nasally annoying tone never-before heard in order to get what I wanted.

Like the time when my wife wouldn't put out. Well, it was our wedding night and I'd lubed up my anus and everything!

Like the time when I only got a promotion 3 levels above my level of competency. Hey, I'd been licking that guy's taint for a year and I only got a Benz as a Christmas bonus!

Like the time in college when I had to abuse the TA for docking me a point for plagiarism. The nerve of that guy! Killing that hobo and framing the TA for his death was maybe a little over the top, but nobody will miss either of them.

With a annoying tone and attuned complaint, I have recognized my own sphincteresque annoyingness and used it for personal gain. I licked my share of taint before learning how to be the tainted and not the taintee. Now it's my time!

Happy Foddor's Day

When you touched me there, this is how it made me feel.

Aural Sex: Air Supply

When I need to chill, you just know what's in the old 8-track player.

Raise the volume to 11 -
we've got a 1-way ticket to heaven.

Parking lot zombies

You've seen 'em. The seemingly lifeless drones wandering aimlessly through your work parking lot at the end of the day, furrowing their brows in a desperate attempt to find their cars. Some say that these people are the problem. That if they're not bright enough to find their cars, then they probably can't do their jobs properly.

But they're wrong.

I hire these people. These are the people who've given so much to their jobs that day that they've totally annihilated their personal memories and thoughts. These are the get-it-ers! I hand out my business card to every zombie I see and say call me! My team is full of them.

And in spite of what others think, I don't believe that these zombies will one day rise up and overthrow me. Zombies feast on brains, another reason I'm not personally worred about my safety.

Mental Floss: Validation

"Don't stop-"

And with that, a tv series I never really cared for ended. The Sopranos was a cult phenomenon, but it didn't have enough depth for me. But at least it ended by getting at least one thing right:

The tune!

Some have said that my musical tastes are hate crimes in song form. That they should be buried in the sequin-laced bellbottoms they were conceived in. But now we see who's been right all these years. F**k you Johnny Appleton! You pinned me against the locker and made me pee my pants for a wrong belief! Eat me Beth-Sue Willkins! You wouldn't go out with me because I was a cheeseheaded, pimple-faced, queerrock-listenening dweeb? Who's laughing now?

"Dont stop believin
Hold on to the feelin
Streetlight people" INDEED!

Profiles in Courage: Me

Sorry for the light posting. I promised myself I wouldn't do another stint in a Tijunana prison. But I just had to have it!!!

Cubicalls to action: The Chessboard

Nothing can shift employee morale like a cubicle change. Put them in the basement under a leaky pipe, and they could come at you with a knife (if their new security card gave them access to anything but said basement). Change them frequently and their annoyance at the constant changes could transform into a search for a new job (if they had the time, once finished unpacking and all the extra assignments you've given them at the same time).

Remember, you are the King. They are the pawns. The whole point of having peons is for them to be peed on.

Hasta la vista: Banana hammock

I'm off to alligator alley to hang out with the grandparents. I bet I have the biggest banana hammock on the beach!

Mental Floss: Poking

I got poked on Facebook. Does that mean I'm no longer a virgin?

What the fuck happened to...

my bladder?

Mental Floss: Puppies

Your direct reports are like puppies. They look all cute and innocent, but then you turn your back and they're ripping your child's arms off and humping your classic GI Joe action figure.

The dogs of war won't negotiate
The dogs of war don't capitulate,
They will take and you will give,
And you must die so that they may live
-- "Dogs of War", from Pink Floyd's BEST album ever, 1987's "A Momentary Lapse of Reason"

What the fuck happened to...

... the good old days?

Back then, everyone knew their place. I wouldn't have to listen to anyone else, as I pretend to do right now.

Mental Floss: Stability

How to treat the pains in your ass at work? The people who demand accountability, who don't accept cliches for an answer, and expect you to justify your paycheck? There is no easy answer. The best solution is to climb high enough so you can fire them. Their competence should be their downfall.

Aural Sex: Working for the weekend

You want a piece of my heart
You better start from start
You wanna be in the show
Come on baby let's go

Mental Floss: Trapped

Race to meeting, deliberately 13 minutes late (fuck 'em).

Lifeless drones, direct reports, sit in their chairs trying to hide their contempt (fuck 'em).

I ramble off about a bunch of bullshit I saw on some management site (fuck 'em).

It's 20 minutes past the meeting's end time (fuck 'em).

I'm still rambling on about dashboard and synergies. Do I even know what I'm talking about (fuck 'em)?

Mental Floss: Fishbowl

"He keeps calling me every 5 minutes but doesn't leave messages. Is he like a goldfish who's surprised at seeing that castle everytime he turns the corner?"
-- Anonymous

Mad Props: Moan-tivation

Every now and then I must link to genius. Good motivational tips are so hard to find.

http://www.regent.edu/acad/schbus/maz/busreview/issue5/losefriends.html

6. Pay people less than they’re worth. Give raises based on factors they cannot influence or, for more fun, based on their performance relative to one another.

Fuck

It's humpday!

Cubicalls to action: Hiring talent

Get resume.

Vodka.

Superficial review. Meaningless buzzwords. Useless degrees. Unverified skills.

Fat blunt.

Sleep through interview. Mindfuck. Pretend to give a shit. More mindfucking.

8-ball.

Hold onto resume for 4.7 months.

Cocaine off a hooker's asscrack.

Hire. Underpay. Treat like snotrag. Laugh.

Cash bonus check. Repeat.

Mad Props: My dad

Today's Mad Prop goes to my main homey. The man with the plan. Lady killah. Smooth dresser. Pimped rider. Insane playboy who learned me all my mad skillz.

My Pappy turns a sprightly 95 today.

Profiles in Courage: Jim J.

On Hollywood Squares, always go for Bullock for the block!

Aural Sex: 2/3

"Two out of three ain't bad."

It sure ain't! It's enough for my bonus, but yours requires reaching 3/4. So sorry.

Mental Floss: Obstacles

"The greater the obstacle the more fun it is to place it in front of our colleagues to watch them suffer."
-- Anonymous

Mental floss: Taint

What do you want to be at work? The head? The heart? No, I say be the taint!

The taint is in the middle of all the action, but is not of the action. Interesting things happen all around you. When people remember events that transpired, they'll remember that you were in the thick of things. You can take credit for the good stuff that came, and claim ignorance of the bad shit that went down.

Remember: Be the grassy knoll.

Life Pics: My other sweet ride

Re-reading my Hoop-D post got me all sentimental-like. Here's my other sweet ride.

Mental floss: Hard problems

"There's no problem too hard to assign blame for."
-- Anonymous

The One Minute Manager

Who has that kind of time to spare?

Profiles in courage: Ned Flanders

"Listen, folks, there's no magic formula. I just follow the three C's : clean living, chewing thoroughly and a daily dose of vitamin church."
-- Ned Flanders

Slow and steady wins the race.
Kind and thoughful and full of grace.
Always helpful smiling face.
Ned Flanders, such an ace!

Life Pics: My Hoop-D

If it's a sunny Friday
look and you'll see
yours truly in the hood
blasting tunes from my hoop-d.

Aight? Word to yo grammy.

Mental Floss: Keeping abreast

I love the classics. Your Foghats, Deep Purples, and Focus(eses). But you gotta keep it fresh, keep it real, keep it on the q-tip, aight? I've already reach the pinnicle of my professional career, I could phone it in. But I don't front that way, yo. Every day I read the Wikipedia to find out new catch phrases the kids are using, with their cellular phones and during their no-commitment sex while on the internets surfing the Myspaces and the pets.coms.

There's a lesson in there for you, loyal reader.

Change is good, but the Benjamins are better

When I was young and naive (really, I was both!) I used to swear a lot. I'd spend my time on the docks smoking blunts, combing my mullet, and whistling and screaming obscenities at the passing sailors.

Originally this blog was going to document the journey I undertook to stop swearing so much. It would have demonstrated the trials and tribulations of toning down my obscenities in favor of a calmer, cooler disposition where I didn't let anything get to me anymore. Nothing gets through to me now. I will not tear down my wall. The blog was going to document the changes where I got married, started primping, and become generally irrelevant.

While I believe in the capacity to change and better oneself, some things are just fun. There are few happier moments in life than creating a new swear word out of nothing. The day I first used 'assclown' is one of my happier memories, because that word has brought so much joy to my life. When my wife asked me to cut down on using the term 'douchebag', substituting 'assclown' made it not a chore but a delight. And the times where I said 'douch-assclown' brought us all joy at the difficulties of change.

At work, these words are replaced with words that make others swear. Like synergy. Dashboard. Roadmap. You know, words that are supposed to be represent actual thoughtful planning and execution but instead represent the final insult to your direct reports.

Change is possible, but only worthwhile if it makes you happy. I decided paper money is better than change.

Cubicalls to Action: Order

There's a language where crisis means opportunity. Or language means crisis. Or where you can languish in a critical opportunity. It's all good.

By creating chaos and poor communication, you actually set yourself up as a person who can repair such things. Because you know the root causes for the chaos (look in the mirror), you can also legitimately claim to have solutions for them. That = promotion!

Think of it this way. You get into work and when nobody's looking, you go out to the parking lot and slash a VP's tire. You make sure to leave at the same time. A little chit chat with the VP on the way to their car and, what, there's a flat? It's a good thing you noticed it before they drove off. By a stroke of fortune you have a tire repair kit in the backseat of your car. Imagine the luck! Dispatch a peon from your group to come out and repair the tire (you only get on your knees for one reason), and who's the hero of the day? Enjoy the country club membership and expense accounts.

I am the human metronome

I grew my moustache when I was 17. It's still there.

I listened to Lynyrd Skynyrd when I was 17. Guess what's highest played on my iPod today?

I had missionary sex with my wife on our first date. Guess what position I had her in the last time?

I used to tell my friends, "It's all good" when trying to score pot. Guess what cliche I used to get my last promotion?

I got a business man's haircut when I got rid of the mullet and got my new job. Guess what haircut got me into upper management?

Whether it's classic rock, work cliches, or habits, the key is never changing. Expect the un-unexpected. Ever settle.

Bury the lede

"In news style writing, burying the lede is beginning a piece with details of secondary importance to the reader, while postponing more essential points of fact or narration."
-- Bury the lead, per Wikipedia

People who bring up reality and roadblocks are bummers. Accentuate the positive.

Russia understands this. Fox News understands this as well. Everything's going swimmingly everywhere according to them, and their ratings prove that they're right.

Apply this successful strategy to your career. Ignore the notable issues that will stop your project's success. Nobody likes a gloomy gus. Don't tell us the sky is falling. Shit out a package of optimistic cliches ("The surge is working!") and ride that dungheap to upper management. After all, by the time it fails you'll have moved on to another role or project and can deflect blame like a Stanley Cup winning goaltender deflects pucks. Only in this case, those pucks are actually your feces and the goaltender is everyone else on the project.

Aural Sex: Give us this day our daily...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_(band)

Do your research.
Know your history.
Best band ever?
Just maybe!

Airline food

I don't know if anyone has ever asked this: What is the deal with airline food?

I mean, is it bad or what? Good thing the provide those air sickness bags. I mean, really!

Cubicalls to Action: Mismanagement

Tunnel vision. Digging straight down to bury the bodies.
Goals. Passing the buck, cashing the bucks.
Tactics. Lick rinse repeat.
Decisions. Delayed.
Phone calls. Voice mails. Unread e-mail. Pretend to care.
Conflicts. Avoided.
Requests. Pretended to care.
Complaints. Forgotten.
Conversation. Inane.
Separating people from the problem. Me.
There are no problems, only obstacles. Me.
Helpful suggestions. I've heard some.
Recommendations. Please.
Decisions. Tomorrow.

You can't have morale without oral!

"I am ever mindful of my leadership position."

"Now it is time for us to move forward with true integrity. "

"knowing that psyched and productive go hand-in-hand"

"we have not done our best work yet"

"We are committed to handling this in the most professional manor"

"Morale has taken some hits: layoffs, lack of promotions and increases, fluctuating direction, and unavoidable tension"

"But fairness and trust are two of the most essential ingredients with any team."

-- Words of a true Senior Leader!

Hangover

I don't know what I was thinking last night...

Cubicalls to Action: Valued member

Words matter. I know words. I use them every day in fact. Sometimes linked together to form a sentence. Sometimes I just scream one out. Sometimes I use 2 together, often a verb followed by a pronoun.

I find words most effective when you use the ones in a language both you and the person with whom you're communicating both understand. My language of choice is English. I'm blessed to have so many anglophiles (look that up - it's not dirty!!!) around me. I learned pig latin for a while too, but only use that when I don't want everyone around me to know what I'm saying.

"You're a valued member of my team"

I use those words often. I haven't looked up the meaning of each individual word, but I'm pretty sure it's what my underlings want to hear. I had to say it phonetically for a while, but now I keep the phrase on an index card in my shirt pocket. I swear they almost want to cry when I pull it out.

Not for sale

"You can't buy me, I've already sold out."
-- Anonymous

Rainy daze!

There's precipitation again. Am I wrong, or do people not know how to drive in bad weather? Am I right?

Sometimes it rains, sometimes it snows. Sometimes there's wintry mix, but I'm not sure what that means! I hear it usually rains when it's warm and snows when it's cold. But is that a rule?

Killer Bs, The Is don't have it

I don't know why it is, but many of my favorite things start with consonants.

Wine.
Hugs.
Fellatio.
Kittycats.
Rusty trombones (naturally).
Felt pens.
Mugs.
Hasselhoff.

Mental floss: Colonic

"Give your head a colonic."
That's so deep I'm on it.

Balls in my Mouth

They're saltier than I would like. But it got me my Porsche!

Aural Sex: We want the funk

Treat yourself right.

Put on the Grand Funk Railroad tonight.

A wetting

That's why you keep spare sheets around, I guess.

Not sleeping...

Saturday. Burned 600 calories with an intense masturbation session by 5 a.m.

Sunday. Wrote three manifestos by 6 a.m.

Monday. Pecking at the keyboard at 4:47 a.m. mommytranny.com.

My deviant behaviour thrives under cover of darkness.

Keeping the asses in the seats, annoyed and marginalized

The war on talent is back with a vengeance. How do you find good people? People whose ideas you can claim credit for, concerns you can pretends to care about, and dreams you can crush? With outsourcing scaring the bejesus out of these wretched little beings, you too can extract unnecessary and Cheneyesque concessions that are more fun than shooting an old man in the face!

It's fun to keep a star employee enraged. He has valid concerns and issues and he's looking to you, his boss, for answers. Sure, you could try and solve those problems, but that takes work and competencies that you don't have. And did you really take over this group to provide solutions to their problems, or to add that extension to your country home? More and more, companies large and small are making frustration the backbone of their management strategy.

1. Hire the right people. It's no fun fucking with people who aren't qualified and knowledgeable in their field. Fishes out of water know that they're not doing something right. Get people in their comfort zones in order to truly mindfuck them.

2. Be mental. Repeat same tricks over and over again. This truly infuriates the little assclowns. You may think that's what hacks do. And you're right.

3. Dangle the bait. If there's no chance of advancement, your minions could grow comfortable in their little fishbowl. Make it seem that the world is their oyster, then crush their hopes and dreams before they get there.

4. Share misinformation. Tell them that they're important. They'll buy it for awhile. That's rich.

5. Give them room. When there's work to be done anyway.

6. (Pretend to) care. Have you ever acted? Start.

7. Pay. Did you know most companies divvy up salary money devoted to an entire group. Guess what? If it doesn't go to your staff, then it goes into your wallet. Don't forget to act like you have no control over this, but do it away from the new Benz so the ungrateful schmucks don't scratch it with the key to their bicycle locks.

Mental floss: Mysteries

"I don't know what that is, but I know I wouldn't touch it!"
-- Anonymous

Tube sock

My favorite tube sock finally disintegrated. And with it, all the caked in spooge from years of companionship.

I'm not quite sure of the year I bought it, maybe 1980. It saw me through Faye. And the Facts of Life. Don't forget Charlie's Angels, Like a Virgin, and Erkel.

I've had many sock-companions over the years, but somehow it had managed to hang around (my penis). I remember tossing it with friends, drinking warm Schlitz on hot July evenings. Of course the sock got warm because we were busy tossing this little blue sock, stopping occasionally for a swig from the little fat green bottles.

It's been caught, dropped, deflected, spun, slammed into the ground and stuck on a few roofs.

But now, 27 years later, it's cracked. Garbage. Yesterday. Funny. Sad.

Thanks for your years of servicing, old friend.

Return to sender

I sent someone an email, but they did not reply
And all I could do was wonder, "Why oh why oh why?"

I sent it with some smileys, so you know it was nice
But I have not heard back, I even checked thrice

Do they have to craft their message to send to someone so bright?
Did they worry so much about it they were sleepless all night?

Did the email get absorbed by the filter of Monsieur Spam?
Or is it that they don't know just how important I am?

Stripper pole

The origins of the stripper pole go back to the days of prohibition. I guess, anyway. I'm thinking there weren't as many brazilians waxes back then! Am I right?

Moving Day

Black crates. Check.
Brain empty. Check.
Empty promises. Check.
File cabinets cleaned out. Check.
On to a new space. Check
Took care of previous responsibilities. From my vantage point, sure!
On to the next space. For me to poop on.
New faces. New kitchenette. New bathroom. New things to pretend to know about.
Same packaged coffee. Same fake concern.
New entrance. New exit. New places to hide my incompetence.
Same black crates.
Until the next time I leave the job untouched and unfinished...

5 Resolutions For Managers

You've kissed your manager's ass all year with unmatched vigour and determination. Now what about your team? Will they eat your bullshit and call it Swiss chocolate? Maybe. But what you don't you know is whether your facade of competence is actually as fake as the concern you claim to have for your direct reports. Here are ways to keep your team swallowing the bs well until the next promotion you get that allows you to ditch responsibility for the things you alledgedly were trying to accomplish:

1. Play the happy clown. Show up early, stay late. Sure, you won't be doing anything but attending meetings and pretending to take on action items that you then delegate to someone who might have a clue, but nothing earns respect better than being seen at the office!

2. Save some of your tongue for your equals. You can only fellate your manager so many times before he has blue balls. Why not lick the rectum of the other people who report to him as well? Lord knows that's better and easier than actually figuring out your own team's needs and issues.

3. Manage sporadically. Nobody likes it when their boss knows all their shit. Spend most of your time being as oblivious to your team's day-to-day duties as you can. It won't matter anyway. By the time any project has been around long enough to fail, you'll have moved on to that new promotion to start other projects that you can also leave behind to the poor SOB that replaces you there. It's like growing a mustache. Why would you shave it for 25 years when you can instead keep it groomed and saying, "I'm partying like it's still 1978!"

4. Spread the bullshit. Everyone is saying bullshit. Good managers spread it around so that everyone gets a piece. After all, if you say bs to the same person all the time, they may be able to prove your incompetence. Think of it as a minefield. The best minefields are unpredictable. Whatever you do, don't keep a map of the steaming piles you've left behind.

5. Laugh at the monkeys. Your team doesn't like you. Fuck 'em. Tell them the same story over and over like it's the first time you've told them the story. Associate a person with something and always refer to it when talking to the person. If you know Johnny went to summr camp in Santa Fe when he was 12, repeating that everytime you see him demonstrates that you know 1 single thing about him. It keeps him in his place. Nothing says, "You're expendable" like your boss demonstrating that he doesn't need to make an effort. When you tire of that, you can always talk about Grand Funk Railroad! devil's salute

Punishment or reward?

Managers run their departments using sticks or carrots. I choose the carrot every time.

Why?

You can eat a carrot. Have you tried eating sticks? Maybe if you're lucky you can club a guinea pig with a stick for food, but I hope you have good dipping sauces!

So when you do the job I'll take credit for, you get a carrot. At least, I'll say it's a carrot. You better damn well eat it in front of me.

Five Slights

When I arrive at work I have a choice.

Useful or useless.

And I always choose useless.

I'm not looking for pats on the back, but it makes me feel good inside.

It's a great way to spend the day. The blood starts racing to my mid-section everytime I stand between a person and the success of their mission, giving me an erection rush that will soon be augmented by opium. It's an exhilarating rush, especially when I turn around and see their self-esteem flee their body.

When the day ends, I seek out the person to nonchalantly rub it in, taking advantage of the inanity that makes it easy to bob my way to the top of the corporate ladder.

Will I live longer? Maybe. The entrails of my victims sustain and vigorate me. Does it keep me in shape? Probably not. Many of my victims are fatties.

Do I feel good? No question.

I'll take useless over useful any day.

Today in history

27 years ago my moustache was born.
It's been mistaken for many things.
It's my lucky charm.
It's my signature.
It's my epitaph.
It's my crutch.
It's the death of reinvention.
It's the mask I hide behind.

What the fuck happened to...

... my cock?

Those spots weren't there before.

Aural Sex: The Caboose

What happened to girls with a caboose?

A caboose visually served a purpose. It signified the end of the girl. The caboose man would often wave in his grey flannel shirt and hat, signifying that he too was part of the Sir Mix-a-Lot era, deserving mention with oversized clock accessories, hot rods, humble pie and pimped rides.

You just don't see the traditional caboose these days. They were, by law, required on all rap video hos until the '80s. Technological advances have eliminated the need for the caboose, which was a place where the caboose man would monitor the girl's performance and detect shifting loads and broken or dragging equipment.

Now the butt end could be anything. Saggy. No back. That puts a crimp in this pimp!

So much for the big shiny caboose. It's history.

Self-Important Managers

Why do people rise exactly to their level of competence?

There is nothing worse than reporting to a gasbag who regurgitates cliches and buzzwords while pretending to be fighting the good fight for his/her team. And the fake concern? Kill me.

And what makes this unbearable is when you add dashboards to the mix. When someone is pretending his numbers actually mean something when really it's just a bunch of random data he got one of his helper monkeys to throw together to dazzle upper management with charts and graphs that indicate progress where there isn't any.

It's a career we never get back.