LowComDom Performances Presents
The Crapolla According to Fek'Lar
You Know You're DOOMED When...
you see your ex-bald white monkey boss standing on the corner talking into his cell phone and you forget the words to Suicide is Painless.
You've stumbled onto another issue of The Crapolla, a journal written for software professionals. No not the managers; I mean the people who do the work.
This Crapolla is sponsored by...
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In This Issue...
Quiet Pokemon Condoms, Dorks, and Cussing -- lots of Cussing
Has this ever happened to you? Your boss gets pressure from his boss to get something done. They don't care how, just get it done. The crap rolls down the hill into your cube where you cleverly devise a scheme to get it done with the least amount of work and risk. You publish your plan, ask for comments. Give a deadline for the feedback, receive none, do the task, and then have the snot nosed 20 year old new guy in the group come by and tell you he doesn't think you should be doing this?
Like I care, but there's a couple things that just make me see red about these pierced dorks, one is that they don't bother commenting when its time to comment and then act like you're stupid for not kissing their ass, the other is that telling stories about the post-moonwalk crowd tends to lead you into run on sentences that start with the word 'like'.
"Someone? Someone had 24 hours to comment and Someone didn't write me back telling me that Someone thought the information was important. If it was valuable, that's just too bad. Answer your email a bit more timely," I reply.
"I didn't hear back from Anyone either. Look it obviously wasn't important enough for Anyone to scream about it before the deadline. It gets down to this, I didn't hear back from Someone, No One, Anyone, the Other Guy, or you."
This is the problem with such low unemployment. All the brains already have jobs. What's left out there are Dorks who will do as little as they can and then object after the fact. They're the same people who snarl at you when you ask for more ketchup at Carl's Jr. What's it to them? Do they get a bonus if the restaurant stays below the ketchup budget?
Sometimes I feel like Holly Hunter's character in Broadcast News where the reporter is making an excuse for not getting the live shot because of parking problems. "You'll do it! Do you hear me! You'll do it, or I'll fry your ass!" says Holly. So comment on time and fork over the ketchup, I can still taste the potato in my fries!
The next time National Public Radio has a begging fest, I think I'll send them some money. Not only does NPR have some very fine programming, but some of it distributes incredible pearls of wisdom that could rival even my dear old Dad's, rest his soul.
Dad used to try to give me lots of great advice. "Measure five times, cut once," he might say. Or, "One hand on the ladder, one hand on the roller." And the ever popular, "Stop playing with the fuses!" Last weekend I was cruising from Computer Literacy over to Fry's. A very unusual NPR program was on with a segment entitled, "Cussing Often Works When Logic Does Not." I was reminded that NPR is partially funded by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, a private corporation funded by -- you guessed it -- your tax dollars! What a relief that all my taxes are not being wasted on EPA studies of Jell-O molds. This was information I really needed to know.
How many times have I, in vain, tried to explain something logically to Fry's employees only to be frustrated? This information was not only valuable, it was damned right timely! The report suggested I was going to get through Fry's with a lot more satisfaction and in a lot less time. I couldn't wait to try it out.
"Yeah, where the fuck are the Twinkies?"
"That'll be the day. I asked you where the fuck the twinkies are and you stupidly said aisle twenty-three! You only have plain Twinkies, I want the special Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace Twinkies with the 'Jar Jar Binks Must Die' slogan printed across the top, you idiot! Now where the hell are they?"
"May I see your receipt, Sir?"
"No you may not you nosey son-of-a-bitch! Why would any sane person put up with your intrusion into one's personal privacy? If you think I've stolen something, you go call at God-Damned Cop! This is the type of pig-headed thinking that makes people wish you had some decent competition! Now get the hell out of my way, and go abuse these other people!"
It's IPO time at a lot of companies. After years of hard work, hardware, software, and e-tailing companies make that last walk to the money people to get their company listed on one of the nation's stock markets. Like much that happens in this world there is a lot of anointing and flogging of underlings with live chickens to get all of the paper work in place for the big day when the company's underwriter files form S-1 with the Securities and Exchange Commission. As soon as this is done, the company will, for about 100 days, draw back into its shell for the "Quiet Period".
"I've called everyone here because I have some great news!" the Sillycon Valley CEO's voice blasted out of the loud speakers. Like many start up companies, his had too many employees to assemble in one conference room. A company meeting had been called in a quadrangle outside their building. The CEO's voice boomed so loud, that it echoed off the other buildings. People three blocks away complained about the noise.
"We filed our S-1 today! We're going public!"
"This is a very important step in the growth of our company. I want to thank you all for getting us this far. There's some really important instructions being passed around about how we have to conduct business for the next 100 days. We're now in the 'Quiet Period'".
"We can't be going around shooting our mouths off about this. I know you'll all probably go home and celebrate. But just put this out of your minds. If anyone calls you about it, just pass them over to the PR team."
The employees of this company were acting like a bunch of dead heads, bouncing up and down chanting "We're Rich! We're Rich!" One fella scarfing a few too may olives at the time began to silently choke. If one listened carefully, they heard the distant sounds of sirens approaching.
"Oh my God! Joe doesn't seem to be breathing! Does anyone know CPR?"
Police squad cars pulled up.
Satan Will Break Out of Hell February 29!
Prince of Darkness to Host Network Game Show.
Let's play, "Who said this?"
Heard in the halls of various software companies.
"The Dark Side is strong with this cat."
"I have a title for the biography of your company, 'The Bris Went Badly'."
"I don't have time to look at my schedule!"
"We're not charging for the quote, we're charging for the consultation it takes to determine the customer's needs."
"You guys are just too Japanese. I mean, who can bow lower?"
"I'm sorry sir, I can't look that up right now. My Windows box just crashed and I'm re-booting. Yes sir, I'm just as shocked as you are."
"We need a big-ass fire hose!"
"Look, it's a homemade cigarette!"
"Soggy packets suck!"
"Oh shit, you're going to quote me in your column."
I need to go sit in my cone of silence and have a Diet Coke.
(Destroyer of Laptops - Morale Officer - The Last Honest Geek)
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