Is it wrong to wish on space hardware?

Dear tiny Miami-based business owner,


I appreciate your hard work and applaud you on your success. However, you could make my life a whole lot easier if you just did me a couple teensy-weensy favors. So please, when doing business try practicing the following simple rules. You may save an office aide's life.


- Keep your invoice numbers under seven digits. I have to type those things, a lot. I know damn well you don't have fifteen billion clients and I doubt you're fooling any of the seven you do.


- Don't assume I only speak English. Seriously. I'm not starting the conversation with "Buenas tardes" to fuck with you, it's okay to respond in kind.


- The plural of attorney is "attorneys" and no, you can't sue me for being rude to you.


- No matter what I called your mother.


-No, she wasn't a saint.


-It's called the internet, I'll look it up you scabsucker.


-It's 2011, asshole.


- No, it's still not self-defense hitting me even if I called you a scabsucker.


- No, I can't spot you half your rent. Shame on you.


- No, I cannot cut you your check for $40,000. No, not even if it's late. No, seriously, if I could I would be in Costa Rica right now with a pair of Rottweilers, a swimming pool of single-malt and a highly-intelligent cow that would nurse and raise its children to be veal, and then remorselessly serve me them.


- Yes, I do accept tips. In any form. Though I do wonder why you had frozen venison in your satchel.


- I have no idea if they'll tow your Escalade for double-parking it in a handicapped zone, but God, I hope so.


- "Am I happy with my current homeowner's insurance?" is quite the loaded question.


- Tinfoil is not an appropriate substitute for an envelope. Besides, the aliens already know what's in there, they were watching you then too.


- This is not a karaoke bar. I don't care how good of a song was on the radio just now.


-Babelfish does not turn Spanish to English, it turns Spanish to a blend wordbortion.


-Seriously, it's 2011.


-I'm not tired, I'm not spaced out, I'm trying to burn a hole through you with my eyes.


-These stopped being rules a while ago.


- Remember the only thing I'm better at not doing than my job is giving a fuck. Make a note of it.


-Until next time, govern yourselves accordingly and please remit payment for invoice number 566699582-A by March 3rd 2007 or are attornies will be you will hear from.

A simple guide to simple living.

I challenge anybody to pass a blind vodka taste test.

- I overheard someone doing an impersonation of Michael Scott from the Office doing an impersonation of Robin Williams. This was a restaurant with steak knives. Anyone who claims I have no self control is preaching utter falsehood.

- Work has made me really good at the order of the months. I will never confuse March and May again. In exchange, I may start confusing numbness with joy.

- The more complicated, vague or unintelligible an order I receive at work is, the quicker the issuer manages to disappear without a trace. Commision Gordon, I feel for ya buddy.

- In a futile effort to entertain myself, I like to yell "BOOM! POSTED!" whenever I use that stamp. Did I mention that that effort was futile?

- I bought a mouse on Amazon the other day while not using a mouse. I don't give a shit how boring that is, I'm pretty proud dammit.

- The cameras at NBA never really get close enough to see what the player's tattoos are. Thankfully, I have a hell of an imagination.

Classy pick, Lebron.

- I just re-watched the "Man with no Name" trilogy and I've got to say, the actor who plays Tuco isn't all that ugly. I think a more appropriate, if less family friendly, name for that last film would be "The Good, The Bad and the Batshit Insane".

Seriously, they're fucking delicious.

- A waiter was confused by my order of a Manhattan last night even though he wasn't the one making it. Pointing to it on the menu didn't help much, but eventually a busser cleared everything up for us. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say anything bad about the waiter. I know he'd probably been busting his ass all day and I'm willing to cut him all sorts of slack. What does upset me is that this is an obvious sign that the rest of you are not ordering nearly enough Manhattans. If your favorite cocktail includes non-alcoholic ingredients that aren't water or garnish, just cut the bullshit and have a glass of milk.

No shame in that...if you're a CHILD.

Baby's First Crossword

Because you're so cool, I've decided to make you all a crossword puzzle. This is my first try at it, so I'm looking for a lot of input here.
http://www.armoredpenguin.com/crossword/Data/2011.06/0409/04091255.402.html

Lemme know what you think. Until next time, may your bar of soap stay hairless and your head hair grow abundant.

Now with more captions!

Friend, if you are still reading this, I salute you.


8. What you Ate Today

#garnishlove

9. How Important you Think Education Is


For a long period of my life, I would always eat bay leaves when they landed in my bowl. This led to certain Cuban and Creole (which are both Spanish words for "awesome") causing me significant amounts of intestinal distress. This continued until, around the age of twelve, someone educated (see, I'm still on topic) me on the proper handling of bay leaves. They suggested that instead of eating it, I toss it in the air and make a toast to Saint Lazarus.They educated me that doing so would please him and thus encourage him to use his great power to keep other undead bronze age farmers away from me and those I love. This has become my new routine and since I have had no problems with zombies or my bowels. So, quite obviously, I think education (still on topic! take that Joyce!) is extremely important. 


10. Put your Music Player on Shuffle and Write the First Ten Songs That Play


1. Len- Steal My Sunshine
2. Len- Steal My Sunshine
3. Len- Steal My Sunshine
4. Len- Steal My Sunshine
5. Len- Steal My Sunshine
6. Len- Steal My Sunshine
7. Len- Steal My Sunshine
8. Len- Steal My Sunshine
9. Len- Steal My Sunshine
10. Len- Steal My Sunshine


My music player knows what I like. Often more than I do.


11. Your Family


Uh...what?


12. Five Guys you Find Attractive

Stevie Wonder could've seen this joke coming, in pitch black and from behind him.

13. Your Opinion About Your Body and How Comfortable You Are With It


Sure, I'd like to be 6'5" and 340 pounds of muscle since there isn't too much I can do about it I'll just keep trying to eat better, work out and drink myself into an early grave.


14. What You Wore Today


Nothing but my six chest hairs and a Honduran cigar. Yes, ashing is a concern, thanks for reminding me. Days off are serious business, folks. #irony 


15. Your Zodiac and If You Think It Fits Your Personality

Virgo

16. Something You Always Think "What if....." About


Same as everyone else. What if Dinosaurs won World War Two?


17. Something That You're Proud of 

Those have still never been my hands

18. A Problem That You Have Had

19. Five Items You Lust After

I'll just pick one, I'd hate to seem greedy.

20. Your Fears

Zombie Prohibitionists.

20b. Our Only Hope

Give him the gun. Give him ALL the guns.

21. How You Hope Your Future Will Be Like

Well, that was easy.

22. Your Academics

I'll only need one, thank you. Just try and mess with the Hitch.

23. Something That You Miss

You may be wondering, "how can I miss an experience I never knew?" to which I reply "LOOK AT  THAT SHIT!"

24. Five Words/Phrases That Make You Laugh

And lose every staring contest from now until forever? Nice try. You'll have to do better than that,  Richards.

25. Something You're Currently Worried About

How this whisky is letting my  cigar  get awfully close to my bare loins. Not even Moses would have  a chat with that burning bush.

26. Things You Like and Dislike About Yourself

I have very good control over my vomiting. I once had a 24 hour stomach flu and threw up only once, when I heard Glenn Beck's voice coming from the neighbor's house. Also, one time, I was really good at throwing cards and I loved that, and now I'm okay at it, so I guess I like that about me. Many times people tell me I have nice hair, but I assume they're only saying that to avoid looking at my face. As far as dislikes, I hate every way in which I am not the three gentlemen above. I'm going to let science fix that. Bill "Rooster" Bogart is gonna be the coolest name EVER.

27. A Quote You Try To Live By

We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.

I'm just following the Irish tradition of songwriting, the Irish way of life, the human way of life. Cram as much pleasure into life, and rail against the pain you have to suffer as a result. Or scream and rant with the pain, and wait for it to be taken away with beautiful pleasure.

So, basically, I'm gonna be uglier than a retired bodybuilder who earns money putting out fires with his face.

28. Someplace You'd Like to Move to/Live

Until I've scaled the tallest building and there's nowhere to hide from the rising tide.
305

A Scotland would be okay too.


29. Five Weird Things You Like


1. People- y'all are fucking strange.
2. Miami- my dog is currently barking at a stray chicken. Stray. Chicken.
3. MSG- So wait? It just makes things taste good? Like anything? Huh?

Motherfucking Ant-man

4. 


5. Fluster. My own, that of others, once I even thought I saw a flustered bear, but it was a cat, and I was in a dream.


30. One Thing You're Excited For

Expect something more along my usual lines next update. Thanks for reading and leave a comment if it pleases you. Take care, keep those glasses full and that temper hot.

"I climb through the window and down the street shining like a new dime..."

Boy howdy! I got a comment! Since they took the time to type it, I think it'd only be proper for me to respond.

lokix1x said...

dude, you missed a fantastic opportunity to make a critique of consumerism's appropriation of actual culture in its never ending search for a mysterious air of authenticity that is clearly being strived for without actually accomplishing said realness . You have no idea how many times I have heard that song Anglicised and gangplanked to fit some CEO's ideal of relaxation and sell a product. Subvert a fucking paradigm if you have the chance to do it on your boss's dime, why don't ya?

You do make a good point, here's why I chose not to. First of all, I have found seventy year old millionaires with signs of dementia a very difficult group to communicate breakfast options to, much less politicize. Second, I get upset when I think about all the black musicians who never became famous because Elvis stole their songs and when I think about all the albums filled with songs that good I'm missing out on because of the racism of the era. I get less upset when Mungo Jerry makes insane royalties because some ad exec. decided  to get some Aryan choir boys to sing his song and televise it. I even get upset when Rod Stewart covers "Downtown Train" by Tom Waits because he turns a heartfelt, powerful song into an inane pop ditty designed to moisten some middle-aged crotches. Forgive me for not getting indignant about a crappy, sterile song by a crappy, sterile musician getting further sanitized by other crappy, sterile musicians. I try my best not to think of Mungo Jerry as "Actual Culture". Lastly, because it would've technically counted as work, and that's the last thing I want to be doing at my job. 

Thanks for writing , you made a good point and I hope you'll comment again. I hope for more comments from all of you too, I know you're out there, watching.

As I don't have any zany work stories today, I'm gonna go back to that little prompt sheet.

2. Something You Feel Strongly About

Barrels

Before I get into why, let me explain why so many other apparently more significant things did not get chosen. I feel very strongly about vampires. Not the Hot Topic dress up kind or the blood fetishist type, but rather the immortal, eternally thirsty lineage of the wise and powerful Count Dracula. Now, I  have very strong beliefs about them, namely that they are awesome and that when portrayed in fiction, they should not sparkle in the sunlight. 

Nobody's face has ever looked so kickable

Now, I went out and found a real vampire (the things I do for you folks) which has become much harder since you health nuts got all stoked on garlic. However, none of the cameras managed to capture his image. Since having a good image was an important goal for me in answering this prompt, I abandoned vampires as my choice. Sorry guys. I encountered similar problems with mirrors, air and sexy thoughts, so those ideas were also all dropped. 

So why barrels? In addition to their intended use (being rolled down a set of stairs by a good guy hoping to incapacitate a group of bad guys), did you know barrels are also key to the production and transportation of alcohol? What a world. 

They can also save your life should a gorilla attempt to force you off a platform.

3. A Book You Love

I remember next to nothing about this book. I think it was about some old man with a dark past or something but I'm probably wrong. Anyway, I was reading it in hardcover during fourth grade recess and some kid started picking on me. I whapped him with it in the face and broke his nose. That made me one bad ass motherfucker in that elementary school and I thank Lois Lowry to this day.

Seriously though, read Sandman. I have all of them, I'll lend them to you. But you better take care of them, I still have that copy of The Giver somewhere and I still know how to use it.

4. Bullet your Day

The word is "shoot". In addition, it is impossible to attack measurements of time with a firearm. I have tried. NEXT.

5. Things you Want to Say to an Ex

Hmm... they weren't very specific, so I'll cover a few bases.

Ex-Professional Wrestler- Ric Flair. WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?

Ma, get the torch

Ex-Best Friend- You were right Joey. "The Headhunters" would have been a way better name for our cowboys and Indians team than "The Angry Robots". To name just one reason, robots don't get angry, they get even.  

Ex-Physician- Ibuprofen doesn't do half a dick's worth of damn when your cock-fucking ACL is more torn to shit than Ric Flair's fucking demon skin set on fire and put through a fuacking industrial size paper shredder you miserable fucking shit-stained barbarian.

Ex-Partners- Please don't jump me. I know a lot of you would love to stomp me into cement, and because of my preferences, I know most of you could. But just please, don't. Think about something nice I did. I know that's gonna make you think of something else I did that was terrible, but just ignore that second thought, stick with the happy. I think I may be asking for too much, how about you just try to stick to hitting me in the torso and legs, however tempting my face and groin may be as targets.

6. Your Views On Mainstream Music

Best Rapper Alive, if not ever

Young, Beautiful, Talented

Still Touring

Looks pretty good to me.

7. Five Pet Peeves

1. Cats have claws. Cats like to "rest" on laps. This does not a pleasant marriage make.

2. Cat urine smells so bad. I've been in situations where I've eaten nothing but low quality fish for several days and I assure you, my urine smelled nothing like that. Cat urine is what their body is left with after consuming your soul for nourishment. That smell is a warning.

3. Dogs cannot work toilets. I dare anyone to find evidence otherwise. 

4. Dogs typically come in two sizes: the type I trip over while drunk and the type that could disassemble me like Andre the Giant could do to a Ken doll.

5. Seriously, cat piss is GROSS.

That's it for round one today. Another update likely coming in a few hours. Good times.

P.S. I switched to Helvetica. Am I cool yet?

"Am I giving these to minors, what are you? Crazy or something?"

Your mind might be wired differently (read: wrong), but there are few things worse than going to work hungover. Conversely, going to work whilst faking a hangover can, under specific circumstances, be one of the best. Sometime between 7pm and a $60 bar tab last night I realized that time had not stopped, and I did, in fact, have to be at work in (as I eloquently put it) "soon hourses". Luckily my tiny and oft-neglected self-preservation instinct kicked in and I drank more water than some villages see in weeks*.

I woke up at 6:50am, popped six ibuprofen, two raw eggs doused in hot sauce  and a colada. This combination will kill any hangover, appetite or child under the age of thirteen. My initial plan of running into the bathroom and Clark-Kenting in the bathroom was foiled by Fredo's being on the toilet when I arrived. As such, I had to explain to Tony and Paulie that I had been out last night celebrating my completion of the project Fredo had me on. They asked details, I answered honestly. I had to repeat the numbers to the point that I was wondering how these people dress themselves. Because these two have more than one frat boy bone in their bodies they each gave me a pat on the back and called me a "soldier bro" for coming into work after that experience. Now, their believing I was a hungover wreck made my day all sorts of great.

For one, being hungover will give you slight scent of alcohol all day. As does drinking all day. Score.

Second, I got treated like a beast for doing the simplest of tasks. "Hey, can you make me two copies of this? Yeah?! What a stallion bro!". "Uh, yeahhh, no problem!".

It also let me spend a lot more time at "the bank". Today, the bank was the talking end of a nice Honduran cigar.

So, in short.... Shit, I guess I didn't really learn anything. Anyway, some random notes shall we?

- Today I had to respond to an e-mail with the subject line "Re: Iguanas".

- What asylum let these fuckers out?

- Last night, a conversation went from fetal surgery to Roth IRAs to the merits of mango cheesecake all over one Manhattan. Some people remind me it's possible to be cool after 40, and in doing so give me a semblance of hope.

- Cuban guys love naming their businesses "All-American <blank>". I suppose I don't understand the correlation between citizenship and the ability to remove stains from tuxedos but I've never been the best vintage on the rack.

- hehe. rack.

- I imagine the worst possible opening line on a resume for a bartender would be "Not so bad when sober."

- One last quick note to anyone who may ever have a say in the paper industry: PUTTING DOTS ON A SHEET OF PAPER DOES NOT MAKE IT PERFORATED ANYMORE THAN PUTTING CLOTHES ON YOUR KITTEN MAKE IT A GOOD PICK FOR BEST FRIEND. Pass that along will ya?

Thanks for reading. Until next time: stay hungry, stay happy.


*That was in pretty bad taste, but it was that or a Katrina joke. I am a bad man.

"Be calm" was my motto and goal this morning. "Don't break anything" became my new goal by 11:30, which switched to "Don't strip down to purple underpants" by close. To paraphrase (read: misquote) Meatloaf, one out of three ain't bad. Now I make a lot of strong statements about the apparent mental instability of my co-workers.  Since it makes up so much of these entries, and thus, sadly, my life, I figured I'd introduce you to the cast of characters I somehow force myself out of bed in the morning for.

The Boss (let's just call him Junior): The man who signs my disappointing paychecks is a seventy year old architect and engineer who has long since passed his prime. Having amassed a fortune rivaling that of the combined cast of "Jersey Shore" and apparently about as much brain damage he spends most of his day doing bad Pakistani accents and telling old Cuban Aesops with about as much wisdom as your average Pop-Tart box. For my first assignment he told me to do a report on Mungo Jerry.

Yup. That's about all I found. When he's not sending me off to research obscure pop musicians or muscle ballet instructors out of their rent checks he spends most of his time barking unintelligible order to his two sons...

Son A (let's just call him Tony): Tony is a skilled and competent contractor with a fairly firm grasp on responsibility. This leaves him with the twin duties of basically running the company and stopping the other employees from eating paint chips. As a result, this leaves him busier than Wilt Chamberlain at a singles bar and more stressed than Shaq at the field goal line. A typical encounter with Tony leaves me with a shit-ton of work. You would think this makes me nervous to see him, but instead it fills me with joy because it means I get to avoid these guys...

Son B (let's just call him Paulie): Paulie is also, in theory, a contractor, in practice however, he is a lunatic. He and I also have the lovely bonding experience of sharing an office. Today, and today alone this subjected me to listen to him sing not one, not two but three songs about masturbation, all apparently made up on the spot and all extraordinarily uncomfortable. Here, for your enjoyment and scrutiny is the first (and best) of these diddies, word for word.

I liiike to massturbaaaateee eveeerydaaay
I liiiike to masstuurbateeee when it's laaaate
(repeat chorus twelve times or until it degenerates into gibberish)


He also holds the dubious distinction of being the oldest person alive to still read everything aloud. Since Paulie never really gets around to real work, this included the Q&A column of Bodybuilding magazine, a spam e-mail about a male enhancement pill and on an odd note, several verses from Leviticus. He also really enjoys having similar "conversations" with our accountant...

Accountant (let's just call him Fredo): In addition to burdening me with the shitty project to end all shitty projects, Fredo also manages to be impressive by being even lazier than me after an ounce of 'dro. According to all sources, Fredo has never done so much as lift a finger unless it's to signal me towards a stack of work. He also earns my respect for, while technically being our accountant, outsourcing our tax filing to a company in India. Making him just lazier and sleazier than the guy who invented slaves. But it's not all awful...

Receptionist (let's call her Carmela): Carmela not only manages to cover up Fredo's slack and keep Paulie from chopping his hand off with the fax machine, she is also a perfectly capable receptionist, letter-writer and decent human being. Carmela has been with the company eleven years now meaning she either was built exclusively of patient bones or the part of her that allows her to feel frustration was lost in a childhood accident.

And then there's me. But I talk enough about myself, and besides, you might be about to eat and I'm the last thing you want on your mind.

Until next time...