far2stoned's Xanga

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 07:51:11 GMT

This just made my fucking day. I'm doing a poster for a children's competition. The runner up prizes are ipod nanos. So, obviously, I needed a photo of one. Went onto www.istockphoto.com, and searched for "ipod nano". This is what it threw back, I swear, you can try it yourself.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Wed, 13 Aug 2008 13:32:50 GMT

Yet another sentence I probably shouldn't have said aloud, considering who works here:

Tell ya what. I'll stop cracking my knuckles, when you stop menstruating.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 12:57:21 GMT

Now, really, they only have themselves to blame. I mean, asking my opinion on anything is risky ("Gary, quick question. Which font looks better here, futura or frutiger?" "Futura. Also, I can see right down your top"), but when it's sex talk... I mean come on, a chimp would know that getting me involved is a mistake.

It started when one of them sent around an email showing a bloke wearing a home-made spiderman outfit for role-playing. They all stood up, prairie-dog like, to crack jokes about it, then...

Aisling: Hey, I'd bet gary would look great in that.
(Couple of mock-horrified screams and lots of lascivious laughter)
Aisling: Gary!
Me: What?
Aisling: You ever wear anything like that?
(More howls of laughter. Yeah, laugh it up ladies)
Me: What, the spiderman retard? FUCK no. Worst I've ever done was to use The Immortal Line.
Aisling: The what?
Me: You know. "Who's yer daddy?"
Editors: ...
Me: I've only used it once, mind. Didn't quite get the reaction I'd expected.
Editors: ...
Me: Yeah, what with all the crying and the screaming and the "DON'T TOUCH ME". A bit of an over-reaction, I thought at the time. But, in my defence, I hadn't known her for very long at that stage. She hadn't yet told me she's an orphan.

Dropped jaws all round. It was spectacular.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Tue, 18 Dec 2007 14:48:56 GMT

Ugh. I have a ruptured eardrum at the moment. Major pain in the arse - I'll spend Christmas half deaf in one ear. Everyone in here knows it, too, not that I can expect any sympathy off them, it's just an added excuse to ignore them.

Still, it's totally worth the loss of hearing to be able to stand up and yell "Hey, I need some cotton wool to plug my ear, has anyone got a tampon I could borrow?"

For all their talk about how I need to be more sensitive, I didn't see anyone rooting around in their bags to help me.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 07:31:01 GMT

Hmmm. So, the boss dropped in yesterday to show off the reason I've been doing her job since May (this one's named 'Cara', apparently), and, to my shock, her sense of humour seems to have improved. She could take a joke, and even dished out a couple.

She basically strolled into ~~her old~~ my office like she owns the damn place (which she doesn't, dammit, it's mine till she returns from maternity leave), and handed me a mini-human.

Boss: Hiya Gary. Here, have a baby.
Me: (holding her at arms length and inspecting her) Oooh. Veal!
Boss: (laughing) No, you can't eat her.
Me: Oh come on. I'll give you 20 euro a kilogram.
Boss: No deal.
Me: Aw. But that meat looks so very tender! What have you been feeding it?
Boss: Breast milk.
Me: (handing the baby back) And we're done here.

She asked how things were going in the office, if I'd tried to fire anyone, what books have gone out, what have come in, etc, etc. Then she dropped the bombshell - she's not returning till after Christmas. Dammit. That's another two months away.

I guess there's something about which side of the desk you're sitting on, which determines the abuser/abusee relationship, 'cos I got a lot more abuse off her than I dished out, which just isn't normal. For example:

Boss: So, how are things with you anyway? Non-work-related?
Me: Meh. Same as always. Still wake up pissed off that I hadn't died in my sleep.
Boss: No girlfriend at the moment?
Me: (As a JOKE, people, as a joke) Are you serious? You really think a girlfriend would let me leave the house with hair like this?
Boss: (ponders for a moment) No, you're absolutely right, good point.

Ouch :(

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Tue, 03 Jul 2007 09:36:51 GMT

Wheeeee. Make that 13 complaints. And a new phrase I'm not allowed to use around here.
If you're getting bitched at by someone, never say "Jesus, who put salt on your tampon?". Not if it's a woman. Especially not if it's a butch feminist whose hair is even shorter than yours (read: probable lesbian) who's filed at least 10 complaints against you since she started 5 years ago.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Tue, 26 Jun 2007 06:40:12 GMT

It's been a while since I updated this thing, and I'm getting hassled by some people to update it. Guess those bastards just love hearing about the train-wreck that is my life. OK. A recap on the past few months:

1. The boss is off on maternity leave. Again. And, once again, she left me in charge of the damn place. Although, her announcement probably didn't go as well as she thought it would.

Boss: I'm pregnant again!
The women: (assorted congratulations)
Eugene: (probably something slimy in an attempt to suck up to her)
Me: What the FUCK? AGAIN??? Jesus Christ woman, show a little fucking restraint, would you? You're supposed to rest a uterus for like two years before firing off another one.
Boss: You. Out. NOW.

Boo hoo, I missed out on the cake.

Anyway, despite that, she still left me in charge, completely ignoring my pleas for mercy, my recommendations of others who'd be more suitable, and my repeated threats to start spiking her drinks with thalidomide. Sigh.

2. Because this is her second child in as many years, there are rumours floating around that the boss isn't coming back. They're wrong, as it happens, I spoke with her and she assured me that she's gonna return after her maternity leave. Still, that hasn't stopped the rumours, or the vultures. Ya see, the editorial/design department is considered the best in the company - best offices, best equipment, biggest budgets, no dress code, flexible working hours, etc etc. So, with the rumour that the boss isn't coming back, most of the other managers have started hovering around, trying to get a feel for it, trying to prove they could do her job if she formally quits. Bastards.

Last week, I had to send around an email telling them all that nobody is to hassle, or question, any member of the editorial staff without speaking to me first. This was, of course, completely ignored, they have their eye on the corner office, and dammit, they want it bad. I even stuck a sign up on the door to the department saying:

It was torn down around 40 minutes later, 5 minutes after that, the bastards were back. God, I hate managers.

3. There have been 12 fresh complaints made about me in the past 6 months. I've asked for printouts, so I can hang them over my desk, but they said no, don't push your luck :(

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Thu, 25 Jan 2007 11:49:09 GMT

Every single day, this place surprises me in some way. Usually in a nasty fashion ("Yeah, so... that dust on your desk? Turns out that's from asbestos lining the ceiling.", or "As and from today, juggling scissors is prohibited for all staff. This means you, Gary."), but today it was almost a pleasant surprise.

Aisling: Gary? Quick question. How do you print a listing of all the files in a folder on Windows?
Me: Er... short answer - you can't.
Aisling: Oh, OK, thanks. (turns to leave, stops, turns back)
OK, I have to ask. What's the long answer?
Me: "Because you're a whore."

No screams, no yelling, no being dragged into the boss, instead... she laughed. Seriously. Either I'm hallucinating from lack of sleep (again), or she's developed what almost looks like a sense of humour. Hmmmm.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Mon, 18 Dec 2006 11:28:15 GMT

Oh GOD, I need to stop talking to my co-workers. Walking into the office there, I passed one of them on her way out, holding her bag, looking purposeful.

Me: Are you going home?
Her: Huh? (glances at her bag) Oh, no, no, just heading to the bathroom. (reaches into her bag and takes out a box of tampons). So, be right back.

Goddammit, I didn't need to know that.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Wed, 13 Dec 2006 11:34:08 GMT

So, it's nearly the end of the year, and that can only mean one thing - more meetings. Specifically, "direction meetings". Total misnomer, considering the management here regularly get lost on their way from their offices to the meeting rooms, but at least it keeps them out of the way. Well, except for the one this morning. I'd barely arrived at my desk when the phone rang, showing the number of an external design company we use every so often when we have too many jobs in progress.

An old friend of mine, Miho, works there, so in a break from tradition, I answered it. She told me that her and two others from the company were asked to come to my company's offices for a meeting, and she wanted to know if their contract was in any danger. I assured her that no, it's not in danger, these meetings are basically to waste our time, and talk about the "direction the company's going", i.e. we tell the management that yes, we like our software, we're gonna keep using it. It makes them feel useful.

Then a thought struck me - how to piss off the CEO. I asked Miho to teach me a simple phrase in Japanese, so I could greet her in a language the CEO wouldn't understand. Ya know, to make him feel left out. (Even though I once had a Japanese girlfriend, my knowledge of the language is pretty much limited to "HAI! HAI!", which translates to a shrilly yelled "YES! YES!". Sadly, not for the reasons I usually tell people, but rather because of the time I said something stupid to her boss, then later asked her if maybe, just maybe, I might have a slight maturity problem.)

Come 10:15, I get a phone call from the CEO in the boardroom asking if I'd forgotten that the meeting was on. I apologised, and stopping only to have a cigarette and grab a cup of coffee, I strolled into the boardroom.

CEO: Gary. How nice of you to join us.

Me: Yes, it is, isn't it?

CEO: OK, introductions. Gary, this is Ger, Damien, and I believe you already know Miho?

Me: Yup. (nodding at the two strangers) Ger. Damien. Miho! (insert a rushed, horifically pronounced sentence in Japanese - I genuinely don't know what I said to her, knowing her, I probably professed my undying love for the CEO)

With that done, I sat down, feeling rather smug. And it would've worked too, except for two minor problems:

The CEO loves showing off the hidden talents of his employees, even with the most tenuous of build-ups (like the now infamous time he was speaking with a group of designers. "I see you've done a music book. Melanie here plays the guitar, don't ya Mel?").
My mouth runs on autopilot most of the time.

No sooner had I remembered point 1 than, with a loud clearing of the throat...

CEO: Gary! I didn't know you spoke Japanese!

(here's where point 2 becomes an issue)

Me: Well... I don't really. Just a few phrases I picked up here and there. Mostly from Japanese cartoon porn, to be honest. I either offered her a greeting, or said "No, stop, get that tentacle out of there".

Some gasps, followed by stony silence, the rest of the meeting passed without incident. Afterwards, I was cornered by the CEO... Things were said, names were called, egos were bruised, threats were made, and I'm banned from the next round of "direction meetings".