Thursday, August 27, 2009

S is for the way you SUCK at communication.

I really dislike working with idiots, morons, a-holes, douche-nozzles, twat-waffles or anyone else that falls into that circus of People Who Irritate Me. But then, who does? If you do, what's the secret? And don't say booze.

It's even more frustrating sometimes working with a friend, someone I know who can be quite intelligent, when they insist on being the most difficult human being on the planet.

Okay. That may be a bit of an over exaggeration. He's just being the most difficult human in this zip code.

He sends me an email that basically says 'hey, here's a job that needs to get done, stuff needs to be ordered.' Because that's my job: to order stuff.

I take a look at the order and note some discrepancies. One section of the order says "X" is needed. Another section says "Y" is needed.

The numbers are very similar, but not exact. Since I want to make sure the right thing gets ordered, I reply back to Mr. Pain N. Ass with a very pleasant and very work appropriate version of what is essentially "WTF?"

No, really, I wrote out my concerns to make it as plain as dirt. "This says X and this says Y. Are they the same? If not please clarify."

Hey! That rhymes! I think I shall call it Ode To Asshat.

These two emails were exchanged on Tuesday. Wednesday morning arrives, and to work so do I, and when I open my emails I see that no reply has been sent. Okay, no biggie. I'll send another email!

"Wasssssup? Hey bro, can you look at the email I sent yesterday? Need more 4-1-1 on the order, yo!"

This morning? Yeah. Still nothing. Sigh. Okay. He replied to every other email I sent him in the last two days, maybe he just missed this one these two. And I have that sneaky little 'read receipt' action going so I know he hasn't even opened them yet.

So I send out Email Number Three this morning while I make a mental note to call him about it later. But he replies back to my voice messages even less frequently than he does my emails so I'd have to catch him when he's not screening calls.

Before I get the chance to act on the mental note he calls me about some other issue he has.

"Oh, by the way," I say. "Take a look at that email I sent out this morning when you get the chance."

"I'm going to be busy all day," he says. "In and out of meetings," he says.

"Okay... but if you get the chance..."

"Thursday is my busiest day."

"Yeah. Got it. You're a busy fellow. You tell me that every chance you get. But please, just take a look at it when you get a moment. I'd liked to finish processing the order--"

"Just order the parts," he says before I can finish my sentence.

I took a deep breath. Counted to 10. Refrained from banging the phone on my desk.

"I can't. That's why I sent you the email, which will take one minute of your time to read and respond to, SO WHEN YOU GET A FREE MINUTE..."

This is the kind of relationship we have. One day we'll be all sunshine and smiles and rainbow farts galore. The next we're a bunch of bitchy cats hissing at each other.

He continued to throw up more excuses as to why he couldn't read my email. At no point did I ever say it was a dire emergency that required IMMEDIATE attention so I'm getting frazzled that he has THE NERVE to get frazzled at me. I was just giving him a verbal post-it note to read a damn email when he had some damn free time. Even if it was tomorrow. That was all. No pressure.

All he had to say was, 'I'll take a look at it when I can.'


We hang up. Less than a minute later the twerp reads the email. Too busy my ass.

Then, because he likes being an ass, he responds by not responding to my original question. This is a staple in his Email Reply Repertoire.

My question was this: "X doesn't match Y. Are they the same? If not, which is needed?"

His response could have been one of the following:

1) X
2) Y
3) yes, they're the same

Either would have been perfectly acceptable. (Heh. "Acceptable." That sounds so catty.)

His actual response was this: "Order 5. They replaced the WRTT (Work Related Technical Term) without telling anyone."

Seriously. Nowhere in that reply is the answer to my inquiry. It's like trying to decode a puzzle without a decoder ring.

My reply to the reply was thus: "Yeah. I know to order 5. That wasn't the question. My question had to do with two different part numbers being listed on the order. ARE THEY THE SAME PART OR NOT?"

I've caught problems like this before. Slight mix ups. Slight typos. Shit happens. I like to keep that shit to a minimum. Shame on me.

His next reply, and I swear this is a direct copy+paste: "Not the same machine was altered tai"


It took me awhile to figure out he missed a period in there. I was thinking he meant "not the same machine" and I was ready to hit something. So, okay, not the same. That still doesn't tell me which to order. And the last bit? No friggin clue.

I called his extension but it rang and rang until it went to voice mail.

My follow up reply instead: "Not the same part. Got it. So which part IS needed? And what the hell does "tai" mean? Call me when you're not busy. I need help deciphering your crazy language."

A couple of minutes later he called.

And clarification was finally achieved.

Five seconds of his life to say 'order this one not that one.' It required no further research on his part. All he had to do was look at the numbers and go 'oh, this one.'


Yet the ability to type that in an email was beyond his capabilities. Don't give me a history of the machine. I don't care. I. Don't. Care. Just answer the damn question.

I know he's not stupid, so I'm left believing he's doing it just to be a pain in my ass. To 'get my goat' as the ol' goat would say.

I think I'll blame my premature grey hair on him.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Super Internet Trooper To The Rescue

Saving Kittens and Parents from Evil Emails one Evil Email at a time!

Probably too long to fit on a business card, no?

My mom forwarded me an email the other day about this 'new fad' in Japan where women are wearing skirts with prints on the back that make it look like their skirt is invisible. At first I thought, 'Huh. Weird.' By the time I got to the last picture I was thinking, "Oh please, my cat could use photoshop better than that."

Since my suspicious meter was bouncing off the charts I googled the first line of the email and found a link to snopes. As it turns out, as it does probably 90% of the time, the email was spreading around false information.

The pictures are real; real in the sense that they really do appear in porno mags. Porno magazines catering to clientele that like to look at women in their underwear.


My mom forwarded me porn.

I replied back to the email with a link to the snopes article and a brief explanation as to where the pictures came from. I hope my mom doesn't feel bad when I reply with a snopes-link. This wouldn't be the first one I've sent.

I still have this email exchange flagged in the name of All That Is Awesome in my inbox at work. I save it for rainy days when I need a smile.

From: Dad
Subject: FW:
Date: Thu, 7 Jun 2007 15:30:44
To: a bunch of people (8+)

Hi! We want you to like us! So we're giving away free laptops! Because that makes total sense! Just send this email to 8 people and you'll get a FREE LAPTOP! Wheee!

Make sure you send a copy to: some.poor.sucker @

From: Mom
Subject: Fwd: FW:
Sent: Friday, June 8, 2007 11:17 AM
To: a bunch of people (8+)

Same email pyramid as before, just one tier higher.

From: Spam Police A Thoughtful Daughter
Subject: Re: FW:
To: Mom and Dad

Ack! Stop the insanity!

I can't believe you guys fell for it.


Suckers! :)

But don't worry, I still love you.


From: Mom
To: Daughter

Daddy made me do it. Love you too. Mom.

From: Daughter
To: Mom

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

From: Mom
To: Daughter

I'm serious. I don't want or need a new computer. So there.

I see her sticking her tongue out at the screen every time I read that.

And okay, maybe I could have broke it to them more gently. Maybe buy a 'Welcome to the Internet: It's Full of Lies' card and slip it into a wine gift basket. I was just highly amused they, and everyone else who forwarded that email before them, thought they'd get a free laptop. But I was just jaded by that time, having seen several similar emails before that.

Bill Gates never did give me that money he promised. :(

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake

Oh Dear Elvis... I showed up to work today with my shirt on inside out.

I know I headed off to work this morning wearing one navy blue sock with one black sock and black pants. That was done, however reluctantly, on purpose. I've been delaying the Inevitable Laundry Session that I know will come whether I want it to or not. No matter how much I ignore its existence, the emptiness of my underwear drawer will not magically reverse itself.

But if it could? Awesome squared!

I have enough undies to make it to the weekend, which is when I can do laundry at 7 or 8 in the morning before it gets all butt-ass melty hot outside. Bleagh. But my socks? They fare not so well. I've been down to mismatched socks since Tuesday. And now I'm down to socks that aren't even from the same species of sock-dom. Hello random halloween themed sock!

But the mismatched socks I could deal with. My feet are under a desk for most of the day, and hardly anyone, if any at all, would notice. But my shirt?!

Holy frack nuggets Batman!

Good thing I was bored during my morning meeting, and looking down, and checking out my chest (as a byproduct of being bored, mind you, I don't normally check out my chest. Well, that often anyway...) Anywho! I was wearing a v-neck shirt and as I was looking down I noticed the fabric sticking out where the two lines of the V meet.

And I thought to my self, 'well that looks weird... what the... oh. Crap.'


Thankfully nobody noticed. Because I refuse to believe otherwise.

In other news, I received a spammy email the other day that advertised a drug that could make me "wild and woozy." I thought that would be an interesting combination. "Woohoo! Let's go skinny dipping! Right after I sit down though because I'm a bit dizzy!" Sign me up.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

How Sex The Bot

I haven't talked dirty to mr. jabberwacky in awhile so I thought I'd stroll on over and chat him up. The first few sentences are written from memory since the silly servers went all wonky on me and timed out before I could copy-paste.

Jabby: Can you think?

Me: I think I can.

What does that mean?

Are you dense?

(A very sassy remark which I can not remember for the life of me, and neither can the jabberwacky servers.)

Are you sassin' me? Because I'm not in the mood to be sassin'.

Can you get in the mood?

Depends, Sugar. Can you get me there?

*hands you the contraband*

What is that? Sounds kinky.

Oh it is.


Lol! XD.


Good luck, I have 7 proxies.

I had to stop there. I el-oh-el'd for reals in front of co-works and figured I'd best get back to work before they got suspicious.

Until we chat again, my sweet Jabby. Keep those proxies warm for me.

Friday, August 14, 2009

A Bit Of Random

I opened up this word doc to write about one thing and ended up with something completely different. When the muse needs to vent, the muse needs to vent! I blame the heat.

Random #1

I've been finding about an ant a day crawling across my desk for the past week.

First ant? Poor fella. He must have gotten lost.


Second ant? Hmmm... Interesting.


Third ant? Okay, who hid the candy behind my desk?


Fourth ant? I'm starting to think I should probably mention this to someone. I'm not sure I can take more karma hits from all that ant-icides I've performed this week.


Random #2

My boss is pretty cool. He's offered to hook me up with friends or family to help out with X and Y and Z. But I'd still never befriend him on facebook, even if I knew he was there. And if for some reason he found me and befriended me, and I had a crazy moment and accepted, I'd like to think I'd be smart enough not to log in to facebook and complain what a wanker he is.

Random #3

This is Day Three of The Great Office Sauna Saga.

Three days that the air conditioner hasn't worked. Yesterday, when I finally escaped this hellhole, the thermostat said it was 87 degrees in here. Eighty Mutha Effin Seven Degrees. I'm surprised I got as much work done as I did. When I was in the middle of a project I focused in and lost track of time and forgot for a glorious yet brief moment that I was stewing in the office. But when I finished? And I had to think of what to do next? It was hard to get that focus back. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't want to move.

The best part was when someone came into the office, sat down, and a few moments later said, "Did you know that its 85 degrees in here?"

"Holy shit, really? I hadn't noticed!"

I swear, some people get so touchy when I answer their stupid question with sarcasm. Am I supposed to thank them for making me aware of my office's sauna status?

And yes, I'm still cranky about it. Because its frickin hot in here! Ugh.

I hear something on the roof right now. I hope its either the A/C people fixing things or Godzilla getting ready to attack and put me out of my misery.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Note To Self # 45837

Note To Self:

Don't wear a shirt with one type of neck shape (i.e. rectangular) when over the weekend you got sunburned while wearing a shirt with a different shaped neck (i.e. triangular). It makes the pasty whiteness even pastier.

And it makes you look funny.

So try to not to do it again.