Damn, it Feels Good to be a Gangsta..

my cubicle neighbor and I have been singing this wonderful song from Office Space all afternoon.

Stars of a Different Variety

Calling Scott Adams… Yesterday at work, we were summoned to a conference call to discuss my divisions’ “important acheivements” from the last year. Even before I get on the call, I’m rolling my eyes. The point of the call was to tell us that of the thousands of people in the division, a select few have been named “Stars” for excellent service and get an exciting gift pack (aka t-shirt). I send off an email to a co-worker to ask: is this a joke? I have things to do. Before she can even respond, the call goes on to explain that “Stars” compete with the “Stars” from other divisions to see which groups employees are “Shooting Stars”. Are we still in kindergarden here? I start looking around to see if everyone else is having as hard a time as I am not laughing. Almost everyone in eyesite seems to be taking this seriously… leading me to believe that my co-workers are stark raving mad! Why on God’s green earth would any company think being called a “Shooting Star” is motivating?

Is this a Friggin’ Joke?

excerpt from actual email received today:

… bong file=” ” option. Bong file should allow a friendly message to be displayed.

you can’t be serious.

Also, when I say I don’t have time to discuss something right now because I have things to get ready for a meeting I have in an hour.. that is not a fucking cue to continue to wax on about your ideas for another project that isn’t scheduled to launch for a year until I literally have to just turn around and start typing to make you go away.

Thank you, I feel much better.

I Am the Lowest of the Low

A guy in my dept. is getting a new laptop, so someone from the IT group came to set it up for him. The IT guy went away and the guy getting the new laptop came to my cube to rub in my face that he has a new laptop.. here is the conversation:

me: that guy looks like the kind of guy that when he bends over, you can see his butt crack
he: yes, I think that every time I see him. But he isn’t as bad as the other one, the angry one with the long braid..
me: He doesn’t come across as angry to me
he: maybe not, but he stinks!

at this point in the conversation we hear a loud cough from the cube behind mine (which has been empty due to a consultant leaving). The butt crack guy is in there re-imaging the PC! Then he gets up and we see him walk by. Me and my co-worker stare at each other, redfaced, in complete horror. We are so mortified! We’ve insulted him and his co-worker.. see if we ever get any IT support again. I am making a vow not to say mean things anymore (at least outloud)..

** Update: Butt crack guy must not have heard (or understood that it was about him). He later returned and talked my co-worker for a long time, telling him all kinds of crazy stuff like that he was studying forensic science so he could be a police officer, that he carries a gun - but never to bars and he doesn’t like the women he meets in bars anyway. Although, perhaps the IT guy was punishing my co-worker with this wacky endless conversation.

It’s Way too Early..

to be at work listening to people complain that customers aren’t going to a specific marketing page (when the only way to get to that marketing page is a link from a different marketing page that has way too much copy on it so people close it almost immediately). Sigh..