Blog 2

Just some more random things bouncing around my head trapped in this damn cubicle at work all day… I don’t care if anyone reads this stuff, its pretty entertaining to me and Im bored so leave a comment or hate mail or a whatever you want if you feel necessary.

I see this every day around where I work and I want to discuss a little thing called “The Thirty Thousand Dollar Millionaire.” You, (the thirty thousand dollar millionaire) drive a leased vehicle you can barely afford, that you absolutely can not drive… at all, because you are more concerned with how you look in the vehicle than causing a 4 car pile up on Post Oak, hell you may not even lease the ride… at the end of the night you may take it back to the dealership where your friend works and when no one is looking you drop the keys off and give it a quick wipe down only to hop on the bus and head home, you shop at all the “trendy” places, eat out at all the over priced places, pay to park everywhere you go, you always over dress only to look exactly like the fifteen other idiots standing next to you drinking their Michelob Ultra, you account for a few hours after work on a Friday to spend at the Galleria buying an outfit for that night that looks just like the outfit you wore out last Friday night, a briefcase is a fashion accessory to you so you will look important, and a tie is an every day fashion statement to you negating the tie/tux effect which I will talk about later, you wear your PDA on your hip and constantly check your email only to see the only “business” email you have is some chick named Candy from Match.com, you go to bars on $9 beer night and have one followed by a fruity shot and a martini as you then prance around the dance floor like it’s a meat market attempting to fight off your cloned vultures doing the same stupid thing, you absolutely without a doubt can not dance, you attempt to pick up women only to go back to their place so they don’t see that you aren’t Donald Trump’s long lost son, so in fact you are getting picked up, nothing about you is unique or anything that you could remotely call your own, your big muscles truly come out on your ride home from the bar by yourself after another unsuccessful night with the windows down jamming the hell out of Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful,” at least the next failure is only 7 days away, or you could push it and go out on Saturday, all of your time is devoted to how you look in the mirror yet the extent of an intelligent conversation to you is what set you are on at the gym, you claim to be the man’s man yet your secret favorite two words are say them with me… “man purse,” you have one of two things tattooed on your arm… your fraternity letters or barbed wire, maybe you are bad ass and you have both, I know thats crazy, you live in an apartment about the size of your office at work just so you can say that you do in fact live “in town,” and after all this if you were half as important as you thought you were you would be sitting down having a cocktail with Scarlett Johannson, not Sherri Johannson… the girl in accounting. I could go on with this but you get the point, Welcome to Midtown everyone… thank God I only work down here, I live in the burbs ya heard me.

I think there is a direct connection between how much shit a person has in their cubicle or office at work… and how long they plan on being there. For instance, my cubicle has a tray, a few pens, a phone, a computer, a chair, a tranquility fountain (which was a gift and brought me no tranquility since the batteries died in ten minutes), and a Spawn drawing I have done which has turned out to be quite the “big deal.” None of that says anything other than Im a phone call away from packing all my stuff up and getting out of here in 5 minutes. Or you know what, I’ll leave everything for the next poor bastard to come sit here, besides the drawing, it will be a nice frame work to start the cubicle building process off of that I apparently don’t get. Common ridiculous things I see… Lamps, there are 15 long fluorescent bulbs directly above just my desk, half of them are unscrewed and the lady next to me has a freaking lamp on, you need sunglasses in here for cryin out loud but she needs a lamp to see the fine print on her TPS Reports. Plants… what is the deal with plants, I guess that says Im committed to this relationship (that being the job) and Im willing to give it a try and raise this plant in this cubicle, but if shit hits the fan Im taking the kids (the plant) with me and Im hitting the road, Ill send you the papers in the mail. If you go on vacation you would most likely leave the front door of your house wide open than not make sure you had someone who was going to water your plant. Wallpaper, photos, pictures frames, diplomas, awards, your intramural flag football championship trophy from college, I get it, you try to make the little space you have personal. But to me, when you bring your home life to work, your work life comes home with you. I wont ever be like that. When I leave work I leave it till the next morning, and if you come by my desk you wont see a picture of who I went out with last Friday, all you will see is Spawn sayin get the f#ck out of my cubicle… and leave the mechanical pencil you just tried to jack. Blouses

Who decided one day that the standard ready position for the toilet was with the seat down, why cant it be with the seat up, then men could go to the bathroom and say, “Hey Honey, Why didn’t you leave the seat up?” Just a thought not sure where that came from.

Why do they call the place at the airport where you are sitting… waiting, putting your life in a pilots hands who is hopped up on Nodos and Red Bull, the Terminal? Seriously?

And if there is a regulated speed why is it called the “Freeway?” What is free about it, you have set lanes, set exits, a speed limit, and traffic which restricts your movement and doesn’t free anything. I spend an hour on the freeway every day and I feel anything but free.

What person set the popular way of thinking in our society today of simply only wanting what you cant have? Or not really wanting something until you have lost it? WTF? Way to go whoever you are, you really messed things up for a lot of people. Jerk

My dream job… there is a guy, not the best looking man in the world, who happens to have a pony tail and who is blessed with some extra baggage, who has my dream job and I have to take it from him, well maybe my dream part time job, I have some other ideas. This man, works the Victoria Secret runway shows. He stands at the top of a set of stairs from below where the girls get ready up to the stage where they walk out… and he simply takes their hand, walks them up the stairs… and on to the next one. He then waits… and does nothing but hang out with super models… and collects a check that triples mine. What was I thinking, Insurance… come on.

The Tux effect… what is it about Suits and Tuxedos that just makes shit happen. Weddings, weddings, weddings is all I have to say. The last wedding I went to we all had them on and I swear to you it’s the only time in my life I have been approached by women blatantly in a bar with I want to take you home and make a man out of you eyes. Granted they were older and had big scary tits that still didn’t block the clear view of their ring fingers which were occupied and/or their husbands standing next to them… but that is besides the point, they make shit happen. Watching the real world and experiencing the “Tux Effect” have given me a combined idea that will most likely get stolen now that Im mentioning it. It’s a movie… or a TV show, a reality show, go figure, where we fight the system. My friends and I go buy… not rent, buy tuxedos and wear them to bars on Friday and Saturday nights. We have a film crew follow us and we either make it into a show or a documentary on the “Tux Effect.” Just countless footage of how by simply putting on a tuxedo, and pulling the we just came from a Wedding Card, shit gets crazy. Wedding Crashers the movie is a totally different concept so don’t even say it, this focuses on the after effects, I think it could work, we could even take it on the road, and if we were in small towns and didn’t want to be too formal, we could wear tuxedo t-shirts at the bars to let them know we aren’t locals but we are here to party.

Do you know the scene in Office Space where the Bobs come in and they are interviewing everyone trying to figure out what everyone does to increase efficiency and lay off a bunch of people? They ask Tom Smykowski what is it exactly that he does. He tells them he mediates between the engineers and the customers. The Bobs ask then why cant the engineers just talk to the customers and vice versa. Well Tom, we are in the same boat. I work with Underwriters (They write insurance) and Corporations (Who need the insurance). Some guy calls someone at my company and tells them to tell the underwriter exactly what he needs. We then call the Carrier and relay the message. Some time later we get what the client ordered from the underwriter… check it, and send it to the client wasting our time saying here is what you ordered. Still with me… we do nothing. Yeah maybe we understand a little bit more than the client would… or we save them some time, but just like they fired Tom, they are on to us. 325 layoffs and the Houston office closing, Im out of a job in Sept. (thank God b/c I need to get out of here) and 3600 layoffs nation wide. Gotta give it to the “big guns” at this company, it only took them how long to figure this out. These people get to sit in their big offices once this dust settles and take another ten years to make another easy decision the high school intern down the hall way could have made on his lunch break. I could say a lot more about this but whats the point. The point is don’t work in insurance, its all over the ladies faces here and if you cant read it they will tell you, get out while you can. Thanks for the memo…

There is a waste of space Security Guard here at my company who goes way above and beyond the call of duty. You know who you are… well, maybe you don’t. You are the jackass standing out in the cold at 8:00am with a radar gun in a parking garage. Better not exceed 10mph in the garage or this guy will hit you with the hammer, a written letter from Post Oak Management saying 12mph is just way too fast. Meanwhile, while dipshit is keeping everyone in the parking lot from speeding, people are banging their doors against mine, parking crooked, hitting the front of my truck and scratching it up, but Captain Ass isn’t worried about that at all, b/c while they are doing all that stuff… they don’t break the 10mph speed limit. Good lookin out Dick



Some things that have been bothering me…over sized purses/ bags these women are carrying around… unless you work for Mary Kay and you are about to hand a sample of eye shadow to every lady in the restaurant get that bag under control, traffic as always, people who wear their phones on their hip… I swear I saw a guy the other day with a Laptop strapped on to his hip walking in the mall, so unnecessary, the blue tooth crap… have we not seen the commercials, you people make us look like idiots, you talk out in the open, walk past us… look at us and when we speak back its like why are you talking to me Im on the phone… well excuse me I didn’t see your invincible phone Im just going to get in my invincible car and get the hell out of here, it will never happen again… until tomorrow, Damn.