Making a Few Cuts...

Well, here we are again for another rant... And with the recent climate of layoffs and unemployment in the country I've decided that today I am going to pretend that I am Earth's HR department, and "lay off" some unneeded parts of the human race.

So lets get started shall we?

First up... People who greet others with "Are you getting any?". Well actually, I guess it really comes out more like "Ya gettin'any?"

What an odd greeting. It's strange to me how just saying something a certain way makes it not quite as off key. It's like you're walking up to someone and yelling "HAVE YOU RECEIVED INTERCOURSE RECENTLY, SIR?". Try breaking the ice with that one at the next party. Hell, I just yelled it to myself in the car and even I want to slap me.

It's also a little rude to those of us who have not received "any" for quite some time. I mean geez, be considerate here! And granted, I'm aware that folks are under no circumstances supposed to answer with anything other than "Of course! 30 times, just last night!". After all, it's very unmanly to openly admit that you're about as interesting to the opposite sex as a jump rope to a quadriplegic, and this greeting is (I'm guessing) a strictly male relation. But have a heart folks... Some of us just aren't as god damn irresistible as you!

It is also sort of an open ended question I've noticed. Any answer is supposed to end with "... are you?" which allows the asker to elaborate on his most recent sexual escapades. I always just answer with a flat, toneless, "No." It sort of diffuses the situation, or I guess it may also give off the impression of a sexually frustrated serial killer? Nah, certainly not with my top notch people skills.

So anyway, "gettin' any" folks... please clean out your desks on your way out.

Next up... People who constantly brag about how fast they drive, and how their police friends get them out of speeding tickets.

Come on... we all have "that guy" at the office... I sincerely hope you're not "that guy", because if you are... I've got some bad news.

Does anyone honestly give two fucks about these folks, and their NASCAR adventures on our highways? I know I certainly don't. And I care even less about how Bobby down at the precinct can talk to the judge, and get your ticket thrown out every time. I don't care about your daring escapes. I don't care if you got caught doing 88 in a 40, with 1.21 gigawatts of electricity coursing through the bowels of your DeLorean.

Why don't you just hold me down on the floor and scream in my face "I HAVE CONNECTIONS! I AM IMPORTANT! I LIVE ON THE EDGE! LOOK AT ME! ENVY ME!!!" What I really hope is that Bobby down at the precinct gets caught smuggling drugs out of the evidence room, your ticket clears the system, and you lose your license.

Fast driving braggarts... please turn in your keys to security.

NEXT UP!

The "That's what she said" crowd.

Jesus fucking bastard whore Christ. I wish I had a rubber mallet up my sleeve for every time someone throws this out there. I'm not sure I can really elaborate further on this one. Just quit it, okay?

"That's what she said" people... Don't expect a callback. Ever.

Next!

Name droppers.

Ever have that person at work who is supposed to get something done, but they don't know how to do it themselves (because they are an ignorant, useless waste of genetic material)... so they come up to you with this shit: "Hey, (insert 'important' person's name here) wants me to have you do this." and you're expected to just jump right on that shit.

Now, I've had this bite me in the ass a few times, but I always just say "okay." and immediately put that person as far back on the back burner as I possibly can. Rarely is it ever actually that important, and if you ignore it long enough, usually the person will convince someone else to do their work for them, or in certain rare cases, they'll do it themselves.

Another route you can take on this: Make up some bullshit question about the work, and take it to the person who supposedly assigned it, and be like "Hey, Captain MouthBreather asked me to do this, and I'm not sure about this part here." all the while implying with your tone of voice "I'm not sure about this part here (BECAUSE IT IS NOT MY FUCKING JOB!)". A good portion of the time you'll have the pleasure of "Well why the hell is he having you do it?". Do your own fucking job bastards.

So, Name Droppers, We'll give you a call if any positions open up in the sewage cleaning department.

Next up...

These people who forward chain letter emails about how Obama is a Muslim, or bullshit military crap, or about how Microsoft will pay me 987592873958 dollars for every person on my contact list I forward this on to. And lets not forget that "Only 63.5893% of you will forward this on..." shit, trying to shame me into thinking it is my moral duty to pass on this drivel. Please do us all a favor, and forward yourself off of my Internet.

Chain letter enablers, don't email us, we'll email you, and if you don't send it back to us within 1 hour, then Jesus died for absolutely nothing.

Well... some tough calls have been made today. But with the uncertainty of today's market, difficult decisions had to be made. Things may get worse before they get better, and more cuts may have to be made in the future (So don't get too comfortable "Always complaining about the movie" guy), but for now we feel that we've made the best decisions possible to ensure sustainability into the next quarter.

So lets all put our best foot forward and make the best of this brave new world!



P.S. You may be asking yourselves what I intend to do with the unfortunate folks who had to go?

Well... As you may know, I am a huge advocate of space exploration, and those first few trips to Mars are going to be dangerous as hell... Just saying.

Another day, Another Dollar

The office was cold even though it was in the mid 70's outside. It is always cold in this building.

My boss has called me in for a 7:00 AM meeting. Which is bullshit because I know he never arrives before 8:30 himself.

I arrive at 7:45. The coffee begins to brew.

He arrives at 8:36. Calls me into his office.

His hair is unkempt and graying. The same can be said for the homeless beard he currently wears. He holds a double sized coffee mug that says "YES, I NEED THIS MUCH COFFEE." He sits down.

"Ads..." he says, almost as if he were speaking the name of the man who killed his wife, unborn child, puppy, and best friend. "They've put up ads."

"I don't understand sir..."

"Weapon Mods son." He sips his coffee. "Those bastards have put up ads, can ya believe it?"

I could not.

"I thought old Kas had a little more integrity than that hahah." He lights a cigar. This is a 'No Smoking' building "Or at least I thought that HE thought he had more integrity than that!"

He laughs. It turns into a cough. This lasts a while. I sit quietly.

"We need to bury them..." He finally manages. "We need to bury them now. It's time. I need your best son, I need all you've got. Now you've been in my employ for what... 3 years now? All I ever see you doing is sitting on your ass, playing Legend of Zelda, and napping. Now I'm an easy man to work for, but enough is enough. I need SOMETHING from you here."

I sit quietly.

"Well haven't you got anything to say boy?!"

"Sir..." I say in the closest manner to 'respect' that I can muster. "I've tried to post several things lately... But you always fight me on them. Like that time I wanted to do the piece on political ideals and how all sides are wrong and all choices are bad... You told me it was too preachy and it might give readers the idea that we actually give a shit here..."

He rubs the stubble on his face. "This ain't Slacker Conservative boy. I refuse to involve myself in these popularity contests we call democracy. We are not a political publication. Period."

"Very well sir... Its just that it is so easy to make fun of them, and you were pushing for views... I thought you would like that idea. Moving on then... It was suggested to me recently that maybe we should do some movie reviews..."

"God dammit boy...!" he slams his hand upon the desktop, pens scatter, the giant coffee mug inches toward the edge. I say nothing. "I don't give half a shit what you think about a god damned movie. You got that? If I want to know what a film is like, I'll watch the god damned thing. I don't need some pretentious little prick telling me how much better the book was, understand?"

He takes a long draw of the cigar. I tap my fingers upon my knees.

"Okaaaaaay... Well I had a lot of good response from the 'Little Barber Shop of Horrors' post."

Coffee drink. "Don't give a damn about your neurotic childhood either kid."

"Well... I thought about posting about my dog once."

"Are you fucking kidding me with this?"

I was not. I chuckle lightly as if I had been.

"What would you like me to post sir?"

"I pay you to post boy. So post. Come up with SOMETHING. I have faith in ya. Just bury that hack Dorge Kas, and I'll give you a 10% raise, an extra week vacation, and all the god damn diet berry tea you can drink. Got it? Now get outta here. Go do something."

I'll probably be fired for making this a post. This is JL... Signing off.