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Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Lord Xerox, Bane of Office Existence.

My hands shook and sweat rolled uneasily down my brow.  The stench of fear clung to the air as I stared deep into the eyes of my enemy.  I can't remember a time where I felt so close to defeat, so close to giving up and feeding myself into this mechanical nightmare willingly.

Xerox.  You fucking son of a bitch.





He with a many maw and exploding toner cartridges.
I always thought movies like "Office Space" were exaggerating the frustration a worker feels when faced with a faulty piece of equipment.  I was more wrong than OJ Simpson's alibi.  There are truly moments when a worker feels a crippling pain rise up in his bowels because the most important fucking piece of machinery in the office won't work.  My office harbors a nightmare beyond anyone's imagination, why?  Simply because our machine is our printer, e-mail(er), fax machine, copy machine and executioner.

That means the moment it doesn't want to work, the office falls into an post-apocalyptic crisis where things like cannibalism and rape are accepted.  And because we are servants of the Xerox, we must do whatever it takes to restore some semblance of peace.


"Please Xerox, your cock is too large for my mouth.  Let me use my hands..."
All Xerox machines have an endless list of problems they can encounter.  There are technical terms for all of them, but in the office we hedge the endless down to four possibilities.  I've compiled the list and I've also supplied instructions for you fellow officer workers reading this.

1.  "The Black Plague."

Problem:  No matter how many pages you print or copy, they all come out completely black.  This leaves you terrified that you were the one who brought upon the curse. 


What causes it?  You've angered the Gods of Xerox by trying to make a copy of something.  Regardless of the manual and the so-called "list" of capabilities, your mortal brain couldn't possibly comprehend the complexities of copying and you take it for granted.  Because of this, you've been punished by the Black Plague.

Remedy:  Eject the toner cartridge and cast it into Mt. Doom in Mordor.

2.  "Devoured Documents."

Problem:  Xerox has deemed your paperwork unworthy of faxing and has utterly devoured it.

What causes it?  If you weren't such a fucking moron, you'd realize that the omnipotent machine can judge value better than you.  As you pressed "Start" on the machine, Xerox instantly realized that proceeding with this task would ultimately lead to your demise.  As a precaution, he swallowed these murderous documents and spit out a mangled clump of ripped shit.

Remedy:  Faxing carelessly is like leading a sacrilegious life and moseying up to the Pearly Gates expecting to get into Heaven.  If you don't want Xerox to swallow your work, then think long and hard about the importance of it before ever faxing something again.

3.  "The Unbearable Silence."

Problem:  It's 2:30 and Xerox hasn't made a noise for the last forty minutes.  It went unnoticeable, you're perhaps even relieved that he hasn't called upon you to deliver an untimely death.  But suddenly, an angry mob of calls and coworkers bombard you with questions as to why nothing has been coming through.

What causes it?   Xerox is immortal.  He has shed our fleshy ideals and remains neither good, nor bad (but he's still pretty bad).  When the sound of silence creeps into the office, it is his ultimate form of punishment.  Dozens of pages of jobs are backed up and we are left helpless in the wake of his unmerciful actions.  Like the wrath of God, we are stripped of the miracles Xerox performs and left only with our primitive tools and pencils.  


Remedy:  There is no remedy for a situation like this.  Xerox will continue working when he sees fit.  Perhaps your day was too relaxing and this was his way of creating a balance.  Regardless, this silence is unsettling.  The only problem by which a solution is unable to be found.  And it seems as Xerox ages, he becomes exponentially angrier.  I suggest you all switch to computers an --


"This user has been terminated due to unlawful behavior and slander."


 

Monday, April 11, 2011

I want warm water, not a complex algebraic equation.

So, I was watching some old silent movie starring Hitler when suddenly it came to a bathroom scene.  I noticed Hitler had to use two levers to control the temperature of his faucet water.  I put down my bong and thought to myself...  "Hey, I have to use two levers too!"

Then I thought, "Why the fuck do I have to use two levers?"

It's 2011, haven't we developed the "warm" water lever yet?  Why do I need an engineering degree to calculate the temperature of my water?  Some strange system of degrees, pressure and toilet-flush/time ration bombard my day every time I want to so much as splash some water on my balls.


Then you also have faucets that don't want to give warm water, instead you're granted a second of scalding water and a second of sub-zero water.  Quite frankly it hurts my head and makes me want to do this:


Only I kill myself in the process.

I can take a shit and take a picture at the same time on my webcam, why can't I get warm water the moment I need it?  How come plumbers are so far behind on the times?

Textual Frustration.

I love how people depend on their phones so much an entire evening can be blamed on a malfunction. 

"I thought you were going to be there when we pulled Nana's plug."
"Yeah, my battery ran out...  Sorry."


It's as if the cellular phone is the key to getting anything done now-a-days.  We've become entirely way too intimate with our phones, we can't get shit done anymore.  The phone is the first and last attempt at getting a hold of anyone.  What ever happened to driving up to a buddy's house and screaming at it until he came outside?  Or trying a land line?

Fuuuuuuuck that.

Land lines have better quality and never cut out; you can't send a picture of a dick to a land line either.
It doesn't even have a screen...  What the fuck?  









I guess as people constantly trudge forward through technology, the pile of "useless but actually necessary" shit adds up.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Baby Geniuses.

So, I'm sure you watched the video.  This has been getting buzz for some weeks now, I didn't mind it.  If kittens jumping into paper bags gets millions of hits, I think two blabbering buffoons should get their fifteen minutes too.  But, when videos like this get press like this:

http://www.nydailynews.com/lifestyle/2011/03/31/2011-03-31_youtube_video_of_babbling_babies_has_experts_talking.html

You need to realize that people can actually get more stupid than they already are.

Case and point.

I was a child once.  When I started making stupid noises with my mouth, nobody was around to videotape said noises.  There was, however, a person close enough to throw something at my dumb fuckin' face to get me to stop making these noises.

This is precisely what's wrong with kids these days.  Instead of stopping the oral diarrhea, parents video tape it and maximize the hits on their blog (which is only filled with more videos of their ugly kids).  If you keep letting your kids make all that damn noise in your house they're gunna grow up like retards and get beat up for not being able to control the pitch of their voices.

Now, experts are studying this video.  Maybe I'm blind, but all I see is two babies making loud noises at each other and one of them thinking it's funny.  Probably because he has a huge wad of shit in his diapers.

I mean, did you see the diaper on that one?  That thing is hanging lower than an old man's ass cheeks.  It's either he just pumped out a chocolate hotel, or he's hung like a fucking walrus.

Instead, the experts say that these kids are developing communicational skills by screaming like retards at each other.  If those babies were in a communications class, they'd earn an "S" for SHUT THE FUCK UP.  YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.

There's nothing new about these two babies acting like class "A" buffoons.  Kids have been doing this for years.  Wanna know where they wind up?


The only difference here is that I don't want to bang your kid (and they aren't blind or deaf.  They're just fucking idiots).

Andrew's Fear Control: Black People. (Totally not racist)

I hang out in Harlem quite a bit.  Under the protection of my black friends, I am escorted into a gated parking lot and we proceed to demolish ourselves.  I won't lie, difference scares me; a black person is a legitimate fear.  Whether the fear stems from experience, stereotypes or the plain phobia that you might say the wrong thing, black people will always scare someone.

Even black people are terrified of black people.  If this wasn't so, then I wouldn't have to be chauffeured around into a maximum security parking lot.

Confronting this fear is simple.  Like a shark or a bear, one must always remember that black people are more afraid of you than you are of them.  Any sudden or violent movements will accumulate to the absolute worst experience of your life (or a great one, depending on how you see the glass).

The best thing to do:  Act like yourself, simply treat this fear like you would any other person and there won't ever be a problem.

The worst thing to do:  Act as if you "are one of them."  First of all, there is no "them;" black people are like snowflakes, there is no one the same.  So if you try to change your personality to fit some stereotype, you'll ultimately insult them and make yourself look like a raging racist.

I was hesitant when writing this post namely because I felt I'd be singling my brothas and sistas out.  Instead, I think this is just one small step towards unity.  I am Andrew Mousouris and I will forever act as a liaison between the ebonies and the ivories.

Human Resources.

I think running headfirst into a wall is the equivalent of sitting through orientation with Human Resources.  Allow me to rewind...

I was sitting through orientation with the Human Resources department for work and I felt like running headfirst into a wall, because it's the equivalent feeling.  The last thing any person needs is an extremely energetic, five-two, physically fit, happy-go-lucky guy named "Guy" telling us that we reflect the company wherever we may be in the entire world.

"Remember, you're always on the clock."

If that were true for this job, I would've applied for Batman's new Robin; at least crime-fighters are actually on the clock...  And the anal rape would be honest.

The Human Resource department of any company is a joke.  The workplace is an environment filled with adults; no matter how bad things may get, we have our bosses and our natural ability to communicate with other humans to resolve any conflict.  Instead, we have a midget sporting a cheesy smile and an '01 haircut dancing around telling grown-ass people that throwing bottles is "not appropriate for the workplace environment."

By the way, Guy, the fact that you said "workplace environment" makes me want to throw a bottle of my own shit at you.

I've had to walk over to Human Resources before, you know what I saw?  A bunch of miserable people sitting around because they've realized their department is useless.  The only people that need Human Resources are the people that work over there.  Even then, I'd prefer it if someone went postal and shut the branch down permanently.

From what I learned in the second grade, the only resources humans need are food, sex, shelter and water.  If Human Resources had any of these things, I'd be grateful.  The closest I got to any of those was finger-banging the "Employee Relations" officer.

How's that for an employee relation?  amirite?