Spite-Filled Magma & Lahars of Rage

2007-12-01T19:32:00.000-08:00

Thought I would post something since it's been so long. However, I am too tired to do anything good, so I will just copy/paste an email I sent this week that sums it up. In the honor and tradition of this blog however, I must say,-- 'fuck, shit, mother fucker, crap, dick,' and any other swear words I have left out. Oh, and Joy! Never got my deer this season. Anyway, herewego:

Hello! And welcome to MoviePhone. No wait. Hello! Greetings from Grover Hollow in PA. S mentioned you texted me (I have not been out of the Hollow yet, and there is no cell phone service. I had S check my messages for me when she arrived in civilization to visit her sisters in NY). So far, the deer are having a great season. The hunters are not. Darwin would be proud of them deer. The hunters are not. Been three days (now five at the time of this resent email), and I am still trying to bag my first deer. Took a shot at one, but right before I squeezed the trigger, the elusive bugger took a jump to go stand by her friend. Missed. Could have had it if I didn't spend an extra second targeting (wanted to make sure I would kill it, not just wound it). Then they were behind trees, and a split second later, were off down the mountain, out of sight. But you know what they say, 'PineSight is 20/20'.

I've put lots of miles on my boots in the past three days, and have been proud of my dedication and focus, but sometimes it just don't happen. Spent most of my time in the woods (at least the first day) with a porcupine about 10ft away from me, eating ground cover and sapling bark (the porcupine, not me. I prefer lots of processed, pre-packaged snacks). But 11 hrs in the woods from dark until dark is still a great time for me. Reflection, alone thoughts, nature, and the chance to beat the deer at their own game does a man good. I hope to report good news soon and bring back lots o' meat. Thank God I can just go to Harris Teeter (or, The Teat as we like to call it) and bring home all that cellophane wrapped meat on a styrophome platter. Otherwise, S and I might just starve to death this year. ;)

I guess I can sum it up like this: D'Oh! Instead of DOE!

PS Thanks for asking. Text messages are always welcome. Even if I don't get back to you very quickly. Hope all is well with you and The Gang. Tell everyone we say Hello. Be back home Sat or Sunday (depends on my success rate, heart rate, and any other unforeseen factors).

UPDATE: Still no luck. Stood up to take a pee this morning (while in the woods), and alerted a deer that was probably heading toward me. About 20 yds away. Spent an hour or two after that at the same spot, hoping another would stop by. Nada. L and I then took a walk, then split up to meet at a designated point on the mountain. About half way to my destination (while 'Still Hunting'-- take a step or two, get a new perspective looking around, etc.) I saw a Hemlock tree and thought, 'that would be a great place for a deer to hid--- OOOPS-- deer saw me (probably the same one, who knows?) and it ran off quickly (it was only 15 yds away and I never saw it until it moved... that is how well they blend in to their surroundings). Gave L a squelch on the radio (a predetermined way to alert your hunting partener without making to much noise) that one might be headed his way. Nada. And more nada. It's beginning to snow now as I type this email, so hopefully that will give us a better chance (up until now, it's been loud and crunchy walking around in the woods on the leaves-- like walking on ChexMix (but not as yummy). Not good for keeping a low profile. Plus it's really, really hard to see deer when they blend in to the color of the woods. Snow helps all of that). Last chance for me tomorrow. Perhaps I will add a scoop of sugar to my coffee themos tomrrow. Cause as they say, 'A Spoon Full of Suger Helps the Venison Go Down')

2007-08-28T12:35:00.000-07:00

Oh, Big Orange Box Home Improvement Store (BOBHIS). I just needed a hinge for my under-sink bathroom cupboard. I asked your helpful, yet strangely avoidant, associate where those would be located. He pointed and said "all the hinges" are over by the power tools. Of course, you did not carry the one I needed, so I bought a similar hinge. Installed it. Worked fine, but you could tell it was a mis-match.

Needed new rollers for my sliding screen doors. Went to The Big Orange Box Home Improvement Store again. Found the rollers on my own. And, much to my surprise and Joy, I found an entire new species of hinges next to the rollers; far far away from "all the hinges" by the power tools. Since Hinge 1.0 was already used, I was unable to return it. Hinge 2.0 cost twice as much, but was the correct design.

Now, I'd like to ramp up here, and begin my usual foul-mouthed rant regarding BOBHIS, but really, is $4 worth my time, html code, pixels, etc? But it makes me wonder if this kind of treatment is by design. Add up all the BOBHIS $4 errors, and that makes for a tidy profit. Not to mention the standard BOBHIS 3-trip per project minimum, each time having to pass by all the end caps full of guy candy (power sander for $30!!! Full-size kegerator for $399!!!) which I'm sure many guys of the male gender can tell you can be irresistible.

I spend so much time there while working on my personal home improvement projects, that people are beginning to think I work there. Light bulbs? Aisle 4, right side (no florescent dimmable options). Hinges? Let me give you a map. My point, I guess if I have one other than this is a good excuse for a rant, is that BOBHIS seems more intent on getting you out the door (or at least away from whatever poor associate sap was unfortunate enough to 'help' you) than on establishing a good working relationship with it's customers. I guess it's the price one pays for cheaper prices, etc. But I think they could do better. I can help.

I've got to run and put on my orange apron, I have a customer.

2007-08-21T05:24:00.000-07:00

Let the Joy rain down upon thee, after the incompetent roofing company does a sub-standard job on your new roofing project. Bathe in said Joy, until you have been covered from head to toe, dripping wet while you contemplate drowning yourself in the pool of Joy provided, once again, by ACME Incompetence Inc. Thanks!

Woke up this morning after a heavy rain (we have been in a drought for a couple of months) to find bubbling paint and a puddle of water on my new wood floor. Since we have not had much rain since the roofing project was completed, this has gone unnoticed until now (thanks A.I. Inc.!). This is in addition to the newly installed gutter above our balcony leaking onto our faccia boards and vents, which I have been trying to get them to fix for months.

Ok, A.I. Inc, is this not your only job; your cup of tea? Don't you do this for a living? How can there be so many problems yet so little follow through? This is my home, goddamnit! You are slowing causing damage to the structure of my house. But you don't seem to care, do you? I bet you will tell me it is somehow my fault, or that it is too late now as the project was completed months ago and I am only reporting the problem now. Well, you fucking geniuses, since we are in a drought, there has not been much rain; ergo no sign of a leak until now. Understand? You've already been out twice to 'fix' the gutter issue, with the same ass-sucking results. Now, we have a new problem. Good thing our condo association still owes you $80K, which they will use as leverage to get you to finish the job correctly.

UPDATE:

Just got a call from the property manager, and she is pissed. She is opening a can of ass-bleeding Joy, heating it up in the microwave, and will be serving to you shortly. Paul, of A.I. Inc., you wanted to blow me off and move onto your next job, didn't you? You thought I would just let it go, or forget about it (hard to do when you are standing in a puddle of water in your dining room)?

(To the tune of the Bud Light commercial song): Well, this Bud Light is for you Mr. Substandard-Work-Non-Customer-Service-Oriented-No-Follow-Though-Dipshit. You take already bad workmanship, and bring it down to a new level. While some companies say, "How may I exceed your expectations today?" you scoff, and reply, "Our customer service can only go up from here, but no thanks!" (gotta-make-the-money). If awards were given out for poor customer service, you would have a Pulitzer trophy in a display case, next to your Mr. Hanky sculpture for being the winner of the Advancement of Shitty Workmanship. Congratulations to you Paul, for your lackluster performance in your chosen career field. (Mr. Substandard-Work-Non-Customer-Service-Oriented-No-Follow-Though-DIiiiiip-shIIiiiiiit).

2007-08-13T07:39:00.000-07:00

Anyone still checking to see if I post to this somewhat non-existent blog?

Observation of the week:

Don't you think companies that require employees to recite, "Thank you for calling [Company Name]! How may I exceed your expectations today?" makes them sound like they are selling The Happy Ending option at the local 'massage' parlor?

2006-12-12T16:38:00.000-08:00

Did I fall into a coma, only to awake in some parallel universe of joy where all TV commercials must either suck, or make no sense? Where in the fuck did this Russian dude come from, and why is he so goddamn excited about Reward Points from CitiCards? Is he some character from a TV show I never watched or something? Why does he look like some chemistry teacher-pedophile (that might explain the silent and youthful looking sidekick, however)? What a dick. Get the fuck off my TV.

Annoying, annoying, very annoying!

2006-12-07T05:06:00.000-08:00

Joy! to the world!
The fucking-annoying-avalanche-o'-Christmastime-Jewelery-commercials begin--
Let Earth, explode so we don't have to hear them any longer!

Or so my lyrics go this morning. I swear to the Fucking Flying Spaghetti Monster, if I hear "Every Kiss Begins With Kay..." one more Spaghetti Monster time, I am climbing the tower. How is it possible to take an already horrible commercial idea, and take a huge, runny, bile-filled dump on it each year to make it worse, then (**** ALERT!!!! As I am typing this, mother fucker piss of shit Kay Jewelers just played that FUCKING commercial again. See? There is no escape. If I turn the TV off, I hear them on the radio. If I turn the radio off, some little elf dressed in Kay Jewelers attire comes to my door to recreate the commercials live for me. See?!!!) release these crap-filled pieces of commercial joy upon the viewing public for viewing NO LESS THAN 106,456,666,410,001 times during the Christmas season? I can only thank the Good Spaghetti Monster (ramen, brother... ramen) that the political season and the Christmas season never occur simultaneously. Can you fucking imagine?!

"Every Kiss Begins With Kay... --- And don't forget, that The Kiss of Death accompanies my opponent. He is evil. Don't vote for him. I approved this 3 ct pear-shaped diamond pendant available at Kay's for only $199, and this message."

They would probably have polling places AT Kay Jewelers for Spaghetti's sake! (****ALERT!!! Another Kay commercial as I type***).

Well FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOUUUUUUU KAY JEWELERS!!! I will NEVER buy anything from you because your ad campaign haunts me. Your cheap merchandise and high school production commercials truly suck ass.

Btw - As if the people receiving Kay Krap would be happy about this horrific gift anyway. They would probably wonder why hubby/wifey went so cheap, then wished hubby/wife would have been sucked in by the equally-annoying-with-just-as-much-air-time Lexus commercials instead. At least they would be getting a Lexus for having to suffer through such an experience.

This message has been brought to you by the letters K, and S, U, & X.

*** UPDATE ***

Oh, and FUCK YOU too Zales, Jarred, Charleston Alexander, The Jewery Factory, and 97.1!!!

2006-09-12T07:32:00.000-07:00

Ok all you Goddamn furniture folks- What. The. Fuck? In the age of technology, them Internets, Google, etc., why the fuck does it take so long for you to get my stuff to me, not to mention having your head up your ass all along the way?

The Rib and I went to The Only Furniture Store That Carried The Table We Wanted. Naturally, after a long and exhaustive search, we were somewhat excited that we finally found the exact table set we wanted. At first, the process was pretty painless. Walked in, got greeted by Crazy Eyed Liz (no shit. She had a glass, marble, or cornea-scarred eye that looked like the one used by the villain in every Hollywood movie. Ever made.), found the table, went back to find Crazy Eyed Liz, put the down payment on the thing, and then began to wait for the 6 - 8 weeks (why so damn long?!). A couple of days later, I emailed Crazy Eye to see if she can send a photo of the table, as we want to shop for a buffet that will match. Amazingly, a table was found and we scheduled a delivery! Woo hoo! Ah, but I would not be posting if all went smoothly. Therefore, let me just start by saying FUCK & OH JOY! Here we go with more happiness inserted into my life courtesy of Lay-Z-Joy (not affiliated with Lay-Z-Boy furniture).

The day before the delivery, Lay-Z-Joy called to say that the table has scratches on it and they do not want to give that one to us as our permanent table. However, they are willing to deliver it anyway and we can use it as a loaner. Pretty nice, right? Well, they call and leave this message at 4:Fucking57pm, so when I call them back at 5:Fucking01pm, no one is there to answer my question. Are they still coming tomorrow? I have not told them their solution is okay, so how do they know if they should still come? The helpful receptionist looks into the computer and sees that I am still scheduled. Ok, fine. So I schedule to be home that day.

The day of the delivery, whilst eagerly waiting within my 'window' of delivery, I get a call from Lay-Z-Joy saying the Delivery Driver not only said the table is in worse condition than described, he cannot find the legs. Who is the Fucking Genius that allowed that item to be in the system in the first place? Anyway, the lady on the phone graciously tells me they will not charge me for the redelivery. (blink) (blink) (blink) What? The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About?! THERE WAS NO GODDAMN DELIVERY!!! Of course you won't charge me for 'another' delivery you fucking imbecile!!!

So we are back to 6 - 8 weeks. In the meantime, I get to play Email Tag with Crazy Eye in order to get refunded for the remaining balance until our table actually arrives.

Then Crazy Eye calls two weeks later. She must be multitasking: looking into the future with her magic eye and trying to tell me what the fuck is going on with my order. She is completely scatter-brained. After a lengthy phone call consisting of Crazy Eye stopping and starting mid-sentence to finally say she THINKS our table is in and would we like to schedule a delivery. I ask her to find out if the table is actually in a condition to deliver, or are we going to repeat our last experience. It takes her over the weekend to get back to us, but she talks to The Rib and says the warehouse manager will check it 'before it goes out on Wed.' No no no no nononononononononoooooooooo! This is what happened last time. I wanted your stupid fucking non-customer service, crazy eyed, Miss Cleo future-reading, ADHD ass to find out if the table, oh I don't know, has fucking legs, a top, chairs, etc. Or do I get to schedule time at home again, only to find out I am not being delivered the same, scratched, legless table? So today, I email Crazy Eye so I have a 'paper trail' so to speak. I explain the concerns I have and to get back to me. I even offer to call the warehouse myself if she will provide the number.

Waiting to see what happens. Crazy Eye says 'Yes', Magic Eight Ball says 'Future Unclear'.

***Side note to you furniture fucks. When my table does not come in on time, please, for the love of all creatures on Earth and to satisfy The Will of Whatever Higher Power You Believe In, DO NOT offer to deliver the chairs only. This has happened BOTH TIMES I have ordered a table. Please make it stop. It would be like a car dealer offering to deliver your tires while you wait for your vehicle to be delivered. Thanks but no fucking thanks.***

*** UPDATE ***

We finally got our new kitchen table and it looks fantastic! Everything went as planned-- smooth from beginning to end! Thanks Lay-Z-Joy Furniture!

Raise your hand if you believe one fucking word of that paragraph. Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller? Didn't think so. So, AGAIN, the day of the delivery, whilst eagerly waiting within my "window", Crazy Eye calls and asks me, "Didn't 'they' call you"?

"Who", I ask.

"The Delivery Guys." she says.

"Why, no. 'The Delivery Guys' did not call me." I say

Silence.

A sigh.

Then she begins to explain to me that my table, again, is not in a condition to deliver. 'The Delivery Guys' were supposed to call me, why didn't 'they' call me, why do I have such a crazy-ass eye, etc. I sit and just listen to her stammer and apologize. And when she is done, I am still silent-- just letting the uncomfortable ness sit in the air, becoming thicker and thicker with each second.

Another sigh.

So I break the silence to give Crazy Eye Liz a piece of my mind. Did I not just spend the past five days playing phone tag and emailing you to ensure this did not happen again? Why, as a customer, have I wasted so much of my time trying to fix YOUR quality control process. Why is there a quality control problem in the first place? Why do you make people schedule deliveries for furniture that you have not checked to see if it is of a condition to be delivered in the first place? Why have I spend two days at home waiting for a delivery that did not happen because you assholes cannot check the condition of the fucking piece before the fucking day of the goddamn delivery?!!!

So Crazy Eye says that maybe we should just cancel the order. Hey, great salesmanship and customer service Crazy Eye. But unfortunately, I really like this table and you guys are the only ones that have it. So instead of giving me my money back, why don't you, me, and your fucking Crazy Eye not speak again until Lay-Z-Joy Furniture has 100% A-Fucking-Plus Quality table to deliver to me. How's that? Huh? Ok?

Then, I spend a couple minutes telling her that there is a serious disconnect between the sales staff and the warehouse idiots. She replies that this happens 'all the time'. Whoa! Stop talking. You are not making me feel better. Then she says, "And 7 other people are waiting for your exact same table." HEY! STOP FUCKING TALKING! Oh my fucking Lord. You keep making it worse! She then says she will have a manager call me later in the day. Whatever. Great.

So we agree not to speak again until I am guaranteed they have a table for me. BUT WAIT! Then she says, (altogether now).... "Would you like them to deliver the chairs today?"

OH JOY! JOY! FUCKING JOY!!!! I must be on a hidden camera show! This is too fucking funny!!! This makes the 3rd time someone has asked me this (both times my table wasn't delivered and once with another company). So I explain to Crazy Eye my Chairs-Only Delivery Option Philosophy, using my automobile example, and tell her how unbelievably stupid that offer is, and to not do it again to ANYONE. I suggest we hang up now before things get worse (HA!).

Manager never calls. It's been 3 weeks. Still no table.

Joy.

*** UPDATE ***

So Crazy Eye calls and The Rib answers. Crazy Eye asks, "Are you sitting down?"

"Why no I am not Crazy Eye. I don't have a table and chairs to do so. Although, maybe if I had taken your offer to have just the chairs delivered, I could be sitting down... with no table." This is what The Rib wanted to say.

Anyway, she says our table is in and they can deliver on Wed. BUT, of course we still do not have confirmation that our table is in condition to deliver. Crazy Eye says she will email the warehouse manager, etc. Ok folks. Why the fuck has this not been done yet?! WHY do we keep scheduling deliveries for furniture that has not been through the "quality" control process?!! Whatever. I am done trying to make this work.

So we get a copy of "the email" and it basically says just to double check the item before it goes out. This, of course, will not help me if the table is damaged as they will not inform me until I am already at home. Warehouse manager never emails back.

Crazy Eye says Yes. Magic Eight Ball says Future Unclear.

*** UPDATE ***

Lay-Z-Joy Delivery Guy just called to say he is 30 mins away. So we wait and see...

*** UPDATE ***

Yes, we finally have a table. For real. Looks really good. BUT, Lay-Z-Joy could not help but fuck up a couple more times. First, they still charged me for delivery even though I was promised they would take that charge off, for my troubles. Next, the delivery guy tells me I owe a balace. Yes, I know. (Blank stare). Then he puts out his hand. (Blank stare). He says, "You need to write me a check." Uh, no I don't Asshole. The Plan was to charge the remaining balance on my credit card once delivered. So Asshole relunctantly calls his boss, who speaks to me like he is doing me some big fucking favor by allowing me to pay by credit card. Hey Dipshit. Did Crazy Eye forget to pass that info on as well? Not surprising. So charge my fucking card, leave my home, and let's never see one another (crazy eye or not) again.

End result: Very happy with the table. Extermemly disappointed and frustrated with the furniture store, whom I lovingly call Lay-Z-Joy (really, NOT affiliated with the real store of the same sounding name).

Fuck you and farewell Crazy Eye, Dipshit, Asshole and all you other Incompetent Fucks.

2006-07-24T08:37:00.001-07:00

I continue to heavily contribute to my Joy01(k) plan at work. Today, a coworker IM's me to aggressively inform me that he will be taking over the desk by the window once it is unoccupied (the guy who sits there gave notice).

Okay, so let me give you a little background on this asshole. He is the guy who has everything, and works for nothing. Divorced and remarried into a wealthy family, this guy lives in a Ritzy part of town (bought for with his wife's money), owes a beach house (same financing plan), several cars (one of which was paid for from Lovey-poo's Daddy who just happened to find some stock in her name for the EXACT amount of the purchase price of the vehicle), yet remains one of the cheapest mother fuckers on the planet. He is the type of guy that would separate 2-ply Charmin to save a few cents. At work, he spends more time working on getting out of doing any actual work than if he would just do the work in the first place. I mean this fuck is absolutely lazy and worthless. Yet since he used to do (in college) what in now our business, his resume' keeps him afloat. But how the fuck did he not get fired in college? He has no skills! Every task given to him comes back in horrible shape. He doesn't follow directions. All he can do is copy/paste, which is what is keeps getting assigned to do to "keep him busy". The rest of us do the actual work that involves occipital lobes. And here is the kicker, THIS FUCK KEEPS GETTING THANKED FOR OUR WORK!!! He is not our manager, so this makes no sense. He is the guy who gets all the breaks, has all the luck, and will always be fine in life. I fucking HATE people who get ahead through no effort of their own. This guy deserves a fucking 50ft bronze statue of his likeness to honor this disparity.

Anyway, so today he tells me not to get any ideas about moving to this soon-to-be-unoccupied-desk. Says he is going to pull 'rank' on me. Mind you, I have not responded to his IM, yet here his is 'telling me how it is going to be'. So I gently remind him that he quit our company several years ago, only to ask for his job back a couple of weeks later. Therefore, I "outrank" him. You would think I just said I was going to rape Lovey-poo or something. He explodes with attitude and ends by saying, and I quote (if you could not tell by the quotes) "nine days of interruption does not an interruption make." Fuck you Yoda, yes it does! As far as your Rank Argument goes, it makes all the difference. See, you quit. You left the company. Then you came back. You get to go to the back of The Rank Line. If Yoda can come back to the swamp after nine days, then what is the cutoff point? 15 days? A month? A year? Sorry, back of the line. Also, his closer was priceless: "Alas, have yourself a sparkling day." Apparently, Yoda lived through the Iron Age, residing somewhere in Britain.

That's the fourth grader argument. The professional in me says that I have more office equipment, work, and responsibilities and so, therefore, it is advantageous for my company to give the space to someone who needs it. I have two computers in storage because I currently do not have enough space. I have dozens and dozens of software books, supplies and training materials. I am Team Lead on a yearly project. Yoda travels with a laptop only and has almost zero responsibilities. I can see why he would need to have more space to do nothing.

But obviously, the main problem I am having is the attitude. Hey you stupid fuck-- you are not my manager and I do not answer to you in any way. Why, therefore, do you feel you need to approach someone like you did? Why do you push, shove and scramble to pick up any tiny morsel of Advantage from the Company Piñata at any cost? I see how this has worked for you: you whine, bitch, moan and become such an annoying pain in the ass that your managers just give in to your petty requests, rather than continually argue with you. You petty requests then add up to some nice perks after awhile. You are the epitome of fat, lazy, gluttonous America. Unfortunately, you are our Workforce. Enjoy your great and wonderful life; we've all enjoyed giving it to you.

2006-06-23T07:51:00.000-07:00

What the hell is wrong with the IT department in every business? Why do they work harder at explaining to you why they cannot help you than if they would just fucking fix the goddamn problem?! It's like a part time job for them. Or do they get style points from Nick Burns?

Today, I moved back into my old office only to find that IT had dumped all of our belongings into somewhat organized piles of cardboard crap and did not hook up any of our equipment. The same IT that absolutely demanded that you not touch any of your electronic equipment because the believe you are such a fucking imbecile that you can't unhook/hook up a few wires. Somewhere amongst the electronic excrement pile I was able to fish out the things that belonged to me (clearly labeled as such). I then took the bullshit by the long, record-breaking, two-flusher, corn-riddled horns, plugged in a total of FIVE wires, and was set to go. I mean Jesus Hewlett Packard Christ! Don't you IT guys do this for a fucking living? Don't you have all the steps memorized so clearly that you could move us piddly computer retards in less than 8 seconds? And can you explain to me why some requests require me to submit a "ticket" to the Help Desk, while other requests do not? Is it a tits issue? Do I need to get some? Or is being Black enough? Seriously. The slights and blatant racism that comes my way is astounding. If I was a Black woman with big breasts, I would never have computer problems at work again. Look, slavery ended a long long time ago. We have processes and laws in place so that all receive equal treatment. So why oh why do you feel the need to "help a Brutha out", but not me? Could I complain to my EAC or Human Resources Department? Sure. At best, it would go nowhere. At worst, I would get slapped with a lawsuit. So I sit. And wait. And open Help Desk tickets. And be extra nice and polite in the hopes they will get to me sooner. They don't.

UPDATE

In addition to the ass-fuck described in the lines above, it turns out that they did not move us to the correct location in the building. Therefore, I get the added joy of accompanying Bobblehead Boss up to our Facilities Department to mitigate the issue. More joy is piled on top of the joy that has already spewed itself across my path today by our encounter with Nicorette. She is 120mgs of pure attitude. She explains that we all needed to be put together on the same floor so they could get an accurate head count. (blink, blink) ---- (blink). What. The. Fuck. Are The Wiggles running our Facilities Department? I don't even know how to begin to describe how incredibly primordial ooze stupid that is. You mean I have to squeeze my underpaid ass and all of my unhooked equipment into a smaller cube so it will be easier for you to get a headcount? Let me remind you that there are a total of EIGHT people on the floor. Eight. Please, let me be extremely uncomfortable so you don't have to take 10 more steps to get a headcount. Nice.

UPDATE

Beep beep beep beep beep beep! Look out! Mack truck backing up, ready to dump an assload of joy: no air conditioning. Ah, not so bad you say? But, I get a second helping of joy because Nicorette gave us a cart to move all of our equipment to our new location. Apparently, IT does not move your stuff, they just hook it up (in theory). I am the only ant from my team in the farm today. So (here comes even more joy, now with 20% less cholesterol) I get to move EVERYONE'S equipment. With no air conditioning. In my work clothes.

UPDATE

My computer is not hooked up to the network at my new location. Hmmm... what should I do? Let's see... nope... still have tiny man boobs; still completely fucking white. Ok then, altogether now... "Open a Help Desk ticket". YAY! And so I wait.

UPDATE

... and wait....

UPDATE

.... (hold music) ....

UPDATE

Thank GOD my subscription to JOY magazine has not run out. I received this GREAT recipe for JOY in crap sauce. Take one part IT, 4 parts incompetence, add a dash of Nicorette, salt to taste, and heat on the 8th floor for 7 - 14 days. Mmmmmmm.... smells like my company. Serves 8.

Everyone is hooked to the network but me. I keep unhooking my computer tower and 1984 era monitor and drag it over to cube squat somewhere there is a network connection. Still no air.

How the fuck does my company make any money?

UPDATE

The Password is.... Joy. Now Bobblehead Boss decided she has had enough-- of me, I think. She gave me the look like, "You can't even handle getting your computer set up you fucking idiot? Did you open a Help Desk ticket?!" So she called EVERYONE in IT and their bosses to get someone to hook up my computer as we now have a proposal to work on. Hey, and guess what? Nick Burns shows up and it takes a total of TWO MINTUES for him to, not only fix the problem on two machines, but also to get us hooked up to the printers in the building (up to this point we have been sending our Mapquest directions and jokes of the day to print at another office... in another state--- my bad). Joy, joy, joy Nick. Thanks for taking time away from the Deep Space 9 marathon to waddle your ass over to us and shower us with your Pearls of Wisdom. I wish you, the Missus and the rest of The Tribbles a fine day.

It only took two weeks.

UPDATE

Got our proposal out the door. One hour later, we have an electrical fire in the building. Sprinklers happen along with other shit. Severe damage to building and they are checking for structural damage. Building closed until further notice. Must telecommute in the meantime.

Joy.