Office Wisdom

Every once in a while, in this godforsaken office, I come across a few pearls. By pearls, I mean pearls of wisdom imparted by the stupid and uneducated. Bits of advice that leave you no choice but to look off in the distance and wonder... Hmmm, exactly what fucking planet DID they come from? Case-in-point:

I took the day off and received an email from my coworker informing me of a string of pearls that could ONLY be dispensed by such imbeciles. Here's the transcript:

Dee: "Is it ok to buy a used sofa?"
Flo: "No, people have Cancer, and Aids, and juice on their sofa... You also have to buy lots of food for the ghosts in your apartment to get rid of them."

I leave you with that kids... I think I should call MENSA. We've found our next candidate.

Addicts Get a Bad Rap...

I have to admit I don't know shit about shit when it comes to heroin. However, I do know that once you've been doing it, you're pretty much fucked until someone comes along and throws you in rehab (Sing it, Winehouse!). I'm sure it's a horrible day-to-day existence, and I don't condone the use of it in any way..... well.... unless of course you're doing it for the greater good. That would be to tell the NYC Traffic Violations Bureau to find something better to do with their time.

Yesterday, 2 people were arrested and charged with stealing traffic cameras from just about every burough in NYC. They would steal the very expensive Nikon cameras that those little grey boxes are equipped with (Who knew?), and sell them to B&H Photo in manhattan. As it turns out, the 2 apprehended were a couple of heroin addicts who hocked the cameras and used the money to fuel their habit. These clowns have a nice lengthy prison sentence to look forward to, and perhaps a little methadone in their future. Eh.. so maybe it was worth it in the end.

Moral of the story, folks? If you're gonna do something as stupid as heroin, at least do something that benefits us all. Good work guys. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch 'Trainspotting'...

'If you beat them, they will come.'

So they opened up a Dunkin Donuts across the street from our apartment. (Cue the harps, please.) It's fucking fantastic timing and nothing makes me happier than showing up 20 minutes late for work because I had to stop and wait on line to get my iced toasted almond coffee. I'm not even being facetious - I'll wade through shark infested waters if it means there's a doughnut and coffee on the other end. But I digress...

So I'm leaving the Dunkin and step into the parking lot when this massive Tony Sopranoesque man is walking with his 4-5 year old son and the boy takes off across the lot. He shouts at the kid to stop, well it was more like "AY! GET OVA HERE!!!". The child paused for about 2 and a half seconds before taking off again towards their vehicle. The man shouts again and proceeds to sprint towards him and grabs the boy by the back of the shirt. Now, it was a relatively small parking lot. There were no cars driving through the lot at the time, and I completely understand where Tony was coming from. Had there been a car coming, little Tony could have been hit. With that said, If I were Tony Jr., I think I might have opted for the car to impail me than feel what was coming from good 'ol pop. The man grabs the kid by the shirt, raised him up off the ground and began wailing him in the ass with his hand. Everyone stopped and stared in shock as this guy was beating this little kid. An older woman went so far as to say "What are you doing to him? Stop that!", to which Tony replied "Why don't you mind your fuckin' business!" and threw the kid into the back of the mini-van. Ok look, I don't have children - nor do I care to, but if your gonna spank your kid, at least do it where the kid's not on public display. TRUST me, the kid will probably not remember the pain inflicted, but he WILL remember you humiliating him in front of the holiest of holy coffee-houses - Dunkin Donuts. Tony, Tony, Tony... maybe he's still pissed his show got cancelled. Hell, maybe he's pissed Carmela got her own show. (Nurse Jackie is so good: Showtime, Mondays 10:30pm)

On a more serious note, Dunkin Donuts has been giving away free coffee at 12 locations in NYC after being taken over by the Canadian chain "Tim Horton". I don't know this "Tim" person is, but his coffee better be worth the trip......

"Filth": The New Coworker...

Everyone has that one coworker. You know the one. The coworker you wish would just accidentally leap in front of the crosstown bus instead of pawning his work off on you, getting caught embezzling, or trying to indulge you in anecdotes about their lives.... of which you could give a shit about when you're quiet obviously in the middle of doing something important. Sadly, I've worked with several of these degenerates, and it was about that time to add a new one to the bunch.

Let's call him Filth.

Filth is a middle-aged, ponytail-toting hippie who not only hasn't washed his hair since 1972, but decides that everyone else in this company is somehow beneath him because we eat meat, we drive cars, we use shampoo. It's strange. The man also has quite the knack for coming up to me and launching into some meaningless story about his life just as I'm about to wrap up a project. At one point I had mentioned where I went to school, and he somehow brushed it off as "Oh. You're one of those." I'm not really sure how to have taken that. I'll probably be paying for my college education for the next 20 years, so he really shouldn't be making any judgments about my financial situation. He also made a comment to my asian coworker, asking her how she distinguishes one asian culture from another, because (and I quote) "they all look the same".

The man has about as much tact as a fucking Riker's inmate. Perhaps this is where he belongs. He does look like he's been shuffled around a cell quite a bit, and if his piss-poor social skills are any indication, I'm almost convinced Filth is out on parole.

He came upstairs earlier today and brought some of his inedible vegan treats for the married receptionist up front. She politely said thank you, but knew better than to eat it. He spent a good 20 minutes talking to her and asking her questions about anything and everything, then it dawned on me. He's actually hitting on her. Jennie walked up to grab something from the fax machine and gave me a look like "He's kidding, right?". After Filth had left to go back under the bridge, I told the receptionist, "Hey, I wouldn't eat that if I were you." She responded genuinely surprised "Oh really?". I asked her if she ever heard of a roofie. She looked way for a second and said "Roof?" I told her to have a good weekend.

Clearly, helping her out would have taken a great deal of effort on my part, and I'm just too fucking tired. Ahhhh another friday tucked away... I'm late for happy hour.

Night, kids.

'Red Bull' in german? Cocainenhausen.

As of this weekend the popular, and quite disgusting drink, Red Bull was banned in Germany for reportedly containing traces of cocaine. Little-known fact (Or perhaps not, and I'm feeling decidedly superior on this brisk tuesday afternoon): When Coca-Cola was launched back in 1886, it contained 2 main ingredients: caffeine... and cocaine. Had I known, I may have accidentally asked our office manager to order some 'supplies' for the kitchen, but given the drug habits of a certain office worker, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's not the best idea.

Red Bull and vodka I know is a pretty popular combination, but while I love vodka, I just couldn't get past the ectoplasmic-like sludge that is Red Bull. I mean no disrespect to the Red Bull lovers out there. Really. Hey, if it did it for me, I'd have the cocaine-laced cans lining the bottom of my filing cabinet instead of the mini bottles of Captain Morgan and Absolute Mango. Anyway, it's an unusually busy tuesday afternoon here, so I need to get back to my duties. One of which is to reacquaint myself with Señor Bull.

If you'll excuse me....

TextsFromLastNight.com

Oh yes, we've all done it... and at some point, regretted it. Normally, I'm the one receiving the texts, but I've done my share of rum-induced texting. Hell, I've even woke up next to a phone that looked a lot like mine... only wasn't mine, and apparently "Rita's" husband was a little pissed that I had her phone. I don't know who Rita is, was, or even remember meeting any women at the bar that night. But I digress...

Check this site out, and be sure to submit your own as you send and/or receive them in the coming weeks:
textsfromlastnight.com

P.S. Sorry, Celia... I haven't deleted my text messages, so you're my first entry. Luv ya'!

"Fries?... Or some snake with that?"

I've been to my share of NYC restaurants and eaten my share of godawful food, but when it comes to a food chain I particularly enjoy eating from, I get a little concerned. I was at a restaurant (to hell with anonymity - it's called Café 82) with my coworker recently when she ordered a salad. I ordered a wrap and when our food came, I heard her gasp in horror just moments later. She was rummaging through her big leafy meal when she lifted her fork and showed me two live ladybugs that had apparently been hiking through her salad on the way back from the kitchen. I don't mind ladybugs. I hear they're supposed to bring good luck, though I haven't seen much of that in my 30th year of life, but I draw a fucking line when they're spotted backpacking through my food. She ended up getting a sandwich instead, and we haven't been back there since... or shall I say 'yet' - the BLT's are f*cking delicious.

Anyway, this past Sunday, one Jack Pendelton was frequenting a TGI Friday's upstate when he spotted a snake head (with the spine attached) resting alongside his broccoli. He snapped a photo of it with his cell phone and Friday's was nice enough to comp the meal. Apparently Jack has no plans to sue, and whether or not he should is something I really have no opinion on, but I will say this. If I ever walk into a Friday's and there's some sort of animal head in my meal, I'll be goddamned if all I get is a free chicken dinner. I want drinks. I want unlimited cocktails every time I walk into that establishment. I want scantily-clad wait staff fanning me with giant banana leaves and feeding me shrimp. Well... ok fine, I can compromise. I can do without the wait staff, but hell, If I'm brave enough to step foot inside that restaurant again, the least they can do is make sure I'm not paying them another dime post-incident. Luckily, I've learned how to make their Jack Daniel's sauce myself, so I don't have to worry about any turds floating in it or anything, but c'mon Friday's. Your food is to blame for ooooh about 10-15lbs of mine, so do us both a favor and make it worth my while.

As for Jack, if he doesn't show a little more initiative, I'm tempted to show up on his doorstep and smack him upside his enormous bald head. Have you seen that episode of Family Guy where Stewie finishes watching that horrible remake of "Bewitched" with Will Farrel? He then leaves the theather, hops on a plane to LA, stops at the hardware store to buy a ladder, gets to Will Farrel's house, rings the bell, positions the ladder at Will's eye-level, and when he opens the door, Stewie knocks him unconscious.

I'll free my schedule for this Sunday...

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