It has occurred to me that - based on physiological and mental traits - my fellow managers aren't actually human. No, they are evil little gnomes, sent here to make everyone miserable. They are short and hunched over, and their human clothes don't ever fit right. Their eyes bulge, and their faces are disgustingly flexible, but always blank.
They cling to your brain like little remorras, and they suck up all of your time, which they poop out as impractical and unnecessary projects that have nothing to do with making product or anything else. They move like lightning, but speak only gibberish.
And none of them understand what a budget is.
You already know about Filthy Assistant. I've now chosen to rename Mike the Engineer "Poo Dog", the scheduler "Pee Dog", and the safety manager "The Safety Nazi" (No production for you! Come back next year!).
Poo Dog and Pee Dog hate each other. They both hate The Safety Nazi. Filthy Assistant spends his time kissing everyone's ass. The Boss hates everyone, with the surprising exception of me. Everyone BUT the boss hates me, but this is only right...If they liked me, I'd reexamine the way I live my life.
Needless to say, I am doing my level best to make them hate each other more, out of sheer self defense.
The Safety Nazi made the mistake of asking what I did this last weekend. I told him, of course, and watched the horror and disgust wash across his face...No, he is not serious about having a good time.
"You mixed meds and booze?", he asked, looking at me like I was a small, rather disgusting bug.
"Obviously", I replied, "I had to get my Holy™ on. Don't bother getting all excited, though, it's all legal and I'm straight as an arrow by Monday."
Then I invited him to The Meetrack, after telling him about the people there that I know.
He now thinks I'm the Anti-Christ.
Poo Dog asked about the huge 3'X5' pic of Squidy's famous leer hanging on my wall. I told him she's Che Guevera's daughter (Poo Dog is a right wing nutjob).
Pee Dog asked why I wear a black tee shirt instead of the approved manager's shirt. I told her that my backhair pokes through that kind of shirt, but I could wear one if she really wants me to. Pee Dog also lives very close to me, and has heard the horrible rumors about me...That I didn't vote for Palin and that I never go to church, that weird and wild parties occasionally happen, that the police won't do anything about.
It occurs to me that I love being me.
To be continued.
:mittens:
Bringing the heat, TGRR.
Glorious. :lulz: There's something very satisfying in knowing that someone can weird out their heathen co-workers and suffer no real consequences as long as they're doing their job effectively.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on November 17, 2010, 04:08:24 PM
Bringing the heat, TGRR.
I can't stand it. :crankey:
They won't die, no matter how much I want it to happen.
There's a few more to go, and then an
Annals style list, only the obituary is for intelligence.
Quote from: Cainad on November 17, 2010, 04:10:09 PM
Glorious. :lulz: There's something very satisfying in knowing that someone can weird out their heathen co-workers and suffer no real consequences as long as they're doing their job effectively.
I have medical paperwork on file that excuses damn near any behavior (pill side effects).
The Americans with Disabilities Act: Make it work for YOU.
:lulz: Go, go, go!
What does he mean, you don't go to church? A holy manTM is always in church! If anything, those cones need to go to the church of ROGER.
Last time I went into a good Holy™ Mode, I declared the world to be my church
and then I cleansed all the filthy heathen sinners in the room with my shoes, but that's not the point. The point is that Cram is absolutely right; a Holy Man™ is always in church.
I wish I could have so much fun do such holy works at my work! Of course me just speaking to some of my co-workers would send them into shock. :lulz:
Quote from: Cramulus on November 17, 2010, 04:18:38 PM
What does he mean, you don't go to church? A holy manTM is always in church! If anything, those cones need to go to the church of ROGER.
I've actually explained that, and gotten a look of hatred in return.
I am also accused of being crazy on pills, and nuts for guns.
Good reputation to have. "Paranoid weirdo armed to the teeth" has always stood me in good stead with local punks.
Also like your comment on the gnomes. I swear I see different species daily. Half dorks, useless elves, hopping whorebits...
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:59 PM
Quote from: Cainad on November 17, 2010, 04:10:09 PM
Glorious. :lulz: There's something very satisfying in knowing that someone can weird out their heathen co-workers and suffer no real consequences as long as they're doing their job effectively.
I have medical paperwork on file that excuses damn near any behavior (pill side effects).
The Americans with Disabilities Act: Make it work for YOU.
What kind of paperwork should I be getting here? As long as I've got that disability status I should probably start milking it.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:41:54 PM
Quote from: Cramulus on November 17, 2010, 04:18:38 PM
What does he mean, you don't go to church? A holy manTM is always in church! If anything, those cones need to go to the church of ROGER.
I've actually explained that, and gotten a look of hatred in return.
I am also accused of being crazy on pills, and nuts for guns.
"Accused?" Does that mean you would deny it?
Quote from: Vartox on November 17, 2010, 06:47:32 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:41:54 PM
Quote from: Cramulus on November 17, 2010, 04:18:38 PM
What does he mean, you don't go to church? A holy manTM is always in church! If anything, those cones need to go to the church of ROGER.
I've actually explained that, and gotten a look of hatred in return.
I am also accused of being crazy on pills, and nuts for guns.
"Accused?" Does that mean you would deny it?
Deny EVERYTHING. Grin while you do it.
Quote from: Requia ☣ on November 17, 2010, 06:45:42 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:59 PM
Quote from: Cainad on November 17, 2010, 04:10:09 PM
Glorious. :lulz: There's something very satisfying in knowing that someone can weird out their heathen co-workers and suffer no real consequences as long as they're doing their job effectively.
I have medical paperwork on file that excuses damn near any behavior (pill side effects).
The Americans with Disabilities Act: Make it work for YOU.
What kind of paperwork should I be getting here? As long as I've got that disability status I should probably start milking it.
An attending physicians report that includes side effects of medications is the key to workplace happiness.
hmm. Maybe I should go back on dexedrine. :lulz:
Heeee!
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:16 PM
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on November 17, 2010, 04:08:24 PM
Bringing the heat, TGRR.
I can't stand it. :crankey:
They won't die, no matter how much I want it to happen.
There's a few more to go, and then an Annals style list, only the obituary is for intelligence.
If you mess with em hard enough, eventually, they'll off themselves
Quote from: Sir Squid Diddimus on November 17, 2010, 08:54:39 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:16 PM
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on November 17, 2010, 04:08:24 PM
Bringing the heat, TGRR.
I can't stand it. :crankey:
They won't die, no matter how much I want it to happen.
There's a few more to go, and then an Annals style list, only the obituary is for intelligence.
If you mess with em hard enough, eventually, they'll off themselves
QuotePoo Dog asked about the huge 3'X5' pic of Squidy's famous leer hanging on my wall. I told him she's Che Guevera's daughter (Poo Dog is a right wing nutjob).
Toldja I was gonna do that.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 06:50:36 PM
Quote from: Requia ☣ on November 17, 2010, 06:45:42 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:59 PM
Quote from: Cainad on November 17, 2010, 04:10:09 PM
Glorious. :lulz: There's something very satisfying in knowing that someone can weird out their heathen co-workers and suffer no real consequences as long as they're doing their job effectively.
I have medical paperwork on file that excuses damn near any behavior (pill side effects).
The Americans with Disabilities Act: Make it work for YOU.
What kind of paperwork should I be getting here? As long as I've got that disability status I should probably start milking it.
An attending physicians report that includes side effects of medications is the key to workplace happiness.
*makes a mental note* , for when I'm getting back to work.
If that works in NL. But I'm guessing it will. At least somewhat.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 08:56:08 PM
Quote from: Sir Squid Diddimus on November 17, 2010, 08:54:39 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:16 PM
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on November 17, 2010, 04:08:24 PM
Bringing the heat, TGRR.
I can't stand it. :crankey:
They won't die, no matter how much I want it to happen.
There's a few more to go, and then an Annals style list, only the obituary is for intelligence.
If you mess with em hard enough, eventually, they'll off themselves
QuotePoo Dog asked about the huge 3'X5' pic of Squidy's famous leer hanging on my wall. I told him she's Che Guevera's daughter (Poo Dog is a right wing nutjob).
Toldja I was gonna do that.
:lulz:
Quote from: Requia ☣ on November 17, 2010, 07:01:03 PM
hmm. Maybe I should go back on dexedrine. :lulz:
After 12 years, they took my Dexedrine script off me, on the pretext that I might become habituated to it!
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on November 17, 2010, 04:10:16 PM
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on November 17, 2010, 04:08:24 PM
Bringing the heat, TGRR.
I can't stand it. :crankey:
They won't die, no matter how much I want it to happen.
There's a few more to go, and then an Annals style list, only the obituary is for intelligence.
The trick isn't to make them die, (You can't, with any justification fuck with them anymore when they're dead) Just make them wish they were dead.