The @-Work Nettwerk
Mundane Tasks and Capitalist Pig-Dog Commands
This volume's "Golden Cubicle Award" Goes To Paul Smith (on his first
George W. Bush Wears
**There is a man who has been spotted several times masturbating behind
dumpster a few yards down from our entrance, typically around 6pm when
people are going home. He never really seems to get scared off by the
pedestrians, who get spooked when they notice and run in another
Last night he was seen fornicating with what appeared to be a box.**
My office is really hot today. I opened the window, and now it smells
I'm indexing the weekly "Variety" at work. In TV news, I learned that
premiering on USA in January 2000 will be the series "Cleopatra 2525."
Here's the lowdown: "Follows the futuristic trials of an actress/exotic
dancer who is cryogenically frozen in the year 2001 and accidentally
dethawed in 2525, where she wakes up in an underground world ruled by evil
robots." (I might be crazy, but I'm not crazy enough to be making this
I popped a zit at the computer, and there is puss on the screen and blood
A co-worker and I are working on a small exhibit of Christmas cards from
collections to go up on the website. I was looking through a box of cards
made by artists and found one from the year 1968. It was inscribed with
something along the lines of "Hope you have a great '69." I should also
that the card consisted of a piece of handmade paper with a couple engaged
in the 69 position embossed on the handmade paper. My co-worker was
horrified when I called everyone over (including our director) to show
I suggested a "Secret Hanukkah Harry" for my office this holiday season,
everybody laughed at me.
So all this week there has been a very attractive researcher from France
using our facilities. I would also like to point out for the record that
smells good too. Yesterday, right in front of him, I dropped a whole
of microfilm on the copier machine, which made a loud crashing sound
the glass. I felt embarrassed for about an hour.
Two Words: Holiday Party. Two More Words: Ugly Coworkers. Two More Words:
I too have had close calls with PUBLIC and PUBIC. I am waiting for the day
when one slips by me and I send something to the [Insert name of township
county] Pubic Library.
I'm temping at Amazon.com at night now, pulling book orders. Someone had
ordered James Dobson's "Love for a Lifetime: Building a Marriage That
Go the Distance" (of Christian Coalition fame) as well as the complete
series of "X Rated Video: Guide to Pornography."
My office smells like dogshit again today.
My office's "Secret Santa" game has gotten out of hand. I feel like the
base commander in that old movie, "The Thing.": "Secret Santa, day five.
The office is filled with suspicion and paranoia. No one trusts each
anymore. We're watching every minute for signs of guilt. And I'm getting
real tired..." I might also add that I have yet to get my first present.
My co-worker Scott, who by the way bears a striking resemblance to Doc
(Back to the Future), keeps a foam egg crate under his desk just in case
someone needs a nap. I'm thinking of borrowing the foam, closing my door
with a note on it saying "Conference Call in Progress". I don't think
anyone will notice.
My boss is a cat lover and every year she makes little mice filled with
dried catnip for all of her friends with cats. Since the holidays are
approaching, she often brings her supplies in to do a little stitching on
her lunch hour. She also brings in ziploc bags filled to the brim with
dried catnip. She has been seen shaking the bag around and asking people
they want to buy some weed. I love my job.
Today I told the hoodies about how I was shot at and tear gassed by the
police in my own neighborhood. They could relate. We're all great
So funny I'm peeing myself. Well,
okay, thats not the reason.
This week's Golden Cubicle Award (and there were SO many choices...kudos
you I say...kudos) goes to Jenny Jones, of Chicago, Illinois who writes:
**Every morning on my way to work I pass a house. This house still has a
pumpkin on its porch. Its been there since October. Why, why don't the
owners throw it away, put it out of its misery? I'm so sick of looking at
it from my car. Its almost Christmas, for Christ's sake. There should be
precious little baby Jesus there instead. Come on, I can see that you take
care of your yard, now TAKE CARE OF YOUR GOD DAMNED PUMPKIN!!!**
Today I heard laughing coming out of my bosses office. I found her
"elfbowling" on the web. When I pointed out that it was not "work" she
me to be quiet because I was distracting her.
I'm invited to a free Texas-Style Chili Feed to celebrate the University's
tourney and bowl game bids; I think I might go.
Out of the corner of my eye the telephone appears to blinking as if I
a message. When I turn my head I realize it is not. Is the telephone
taunting me or am I just going crazy?
My mom sent me one of those chain emails that forewarns women against all
the dangers of modern society. This time, it told me to watch out for
two-way mirrors in restrooms. The litmus test is that if you touch the
of your fingernail against the reflective surface and there is no gap
between the nail and the nail's image, then Beware! It is a two-way
I tried this out on my computer monitor. Now I'm pretty sure there is a
tiny, creepy, masturbating man in my monitor watching me as I type and
whiteout all day.
Wet naps. MMMMMMMMMMMMMM...wet naps.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling especially bitter about being an entry-level
shitworker in the publishing industry, I like to share the ressentiment by
sending nasty emails to major publications reminding them that all their
writers are old and uncool. A well-constructed, intelligent reply just
doesn't provide the gratification of bitchery like "Camille Paglia is
utterly fucking clueless!" or "Send this cheap hack fuckwit back to
Cheap humor: I walked in on my supervisor urinating in the bathroom this
afternoon. "That's quite a bladder you have there!" I said and he
"what?" as he turned and urinated on his shoes. I didn't end up going to
Six brief moments of delight: glazed, powdered, chocolate, maple, marble
The Christmas decorations have gone up, the Secret Santa names have been
chosen, and the office is a buzz with holiday cheer. The primary task at
hand now is planning for the upcoming Christmas party. However, since the
eggnog will not be spiked I don't think there will be another moment like
the one that occured at a recent going away party: Ms. X walked into the
conference room, took one look at the platter of feta cheese and said, no
joke, "That looks like my yeast infection." When Ms. Y said, "What!?!"
Z--whose primary language, it should be pointed out, is not English, and
has not grasped some of the finer points of American idomatic
expressions--said, "Ms. X has a pussy problem."
The last two days I have arrived at work 5-10 minutes before my boss and
assistant, and then I throw a bunch of papers on the floor and open up
several windoes on the computer so it looks like I9ve been there for an
or two. Then I leave early.
There is now a second bathroom lady! A woman was spotted in the woman's
bathroom, not her stall mind you, preparing for battle by pulling down
her pants and underwear, exposing her bare naked ass. This same woman was
spotted later in the week walking into the bathroom, in full view of the
hallway, not with her pants down, but with her shirt pulled up exposing
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