Posts

Showing posts with the label work

Overstaying...

Image
October 13, 2008… A Monday      I had been called into a supervisor’s office and asked my honest opinion about the day to day operations in the department.   Pressed for my honest opinion, I gave it and some suggestions for opportunities for improvement with it.   Because, naturally, a problem without a solution is just a complaint. Despite having asked for my opinion and received it quite professionally, the only response she would muster was – and I remember it like it was yesterday – “things just aren’t going to get any better.”      At that moment, I decided that I could no longer remain in that situation and began shopping my resume around the company for a situation that would not land me under one of those “well at least we have a job”-ass supervisors. My problem was my effectiveness.   I can have a laundry list of complaints about something, but if it is what I am tasked with doing to be sure to it that my mortgage gets paid, then I am turning over GOD level wor

True Story©... Santa's Day Job

Image
     Let’s be honest here, it’s 2017… Santa’s business model is about as feasible and sustainable as congress would have us to believe that trickle-down economics is.  That is to say, a fucking fairy tale.      Perhaps there was a time in history where “give all the kids in the world presents” was all fine and cool.  As Japan and China gadgetized the whole world, though, the cost of development and manufacturing became quite a weight on the fat man’s shoulders.  Bear in mind that he had to continue to pay for the sustenance of his elves and reindeer – not to mention  Rudolph’s rehab fees  – it only made sense that he would need to take on a day job of some sort for the other 364 days of the year if this is to work at all.      Back in the 4 th  century, the original Saint Nicholas would give gifts to the poor – especially poor girls so they could have something as a dowry and remain worthy of marrying by not becoming prostitutes for money – as one might expect a Bishop wh

True Story©... Lyrical Misappropriation

Image
( photo credit )      Sometimes when I am all alone, I make up new lyrics to existing songs and repeat them until I remember them.  When the REAL song is on, I will sing  my  lyrics (loudly) and watch for people’s reaction. Misappropriation is not the same thing as misquoting, which is a different (but actually innocent) fun.      I cannot imagine either of you reading the above three sentences without wanting examples, so there is really no reason for me to continue pussyfooting with any lead-in here. One time I’m in my car with my nephews.  I have a radio that is effectively a 6” android computer of sorts, so I have a SanDisk Cruzer in it with all my preferred music on it.  As I picked them up, I was listening to UGK. Album:  Too Hard To Swallow , track 3…   Pocket Full of Stones . I let Bun B’s verse ride right through without issue, but when verse two started… “Back in the days they used to run up saying Pimp C what ya know? I tell 'em get your scones

True Story© Who Can I Trust?

Image
Do you have a Work BFF? You know that person at work who, while they may not be your literal best friend, are the one you are most likely to shoot the shit with and shares your disdain for most other people in the office.  You might not even kick it with this person outside of the 8-5, but for that time in the office they are your buddy. I don’t currently have one of these.  I am in a group of people in a small department that talk too damn much for me to want to establish this kind of communication with.  What I do have is a wildly entertaining dance of observing who talks to whom and assessing how I can use that to my amusement every chance I get. I guess that makes me my own Work BFF. When I first came to my current department, two people already knew me and one knew of me (one more person has been added since, with no turnover) .  Knowing what I knew of the two who already knew me, I knew that it’d be in my best interest to say nothing more than necessary to

True Story©... That Time I Wrote To Penthouse

True Story©…                 Wait, I need to set up a little background before I get all the way into this one. One of the things for boy children that comes from the separation from your father right as you enter adolescence is that sex ed is left to a gym teacher who is uncomfortable dealing with presenting factual information while being responded to with snickering.  The only other place to get it is from the streets, and by “streets,” I mean the older dudes in the neighborhood and peers and such. Fact: this is a SHITTY way to learn something so important and is one of the reasons that teenage pregnancies were so prevalent when I was in high school.                 Now, True Story© time. One time when I was 18 or 19, I was CONVINCED that I should write in to Penthouse Forum.  For those who don’t know or won’t Google, Penthouse Forum was a magazine with raunchier pictures than playboy and a section where people would write in to brag of their sexual conquests.  At 37, I am

True Story© - "I Quit"

True Story©… I quit. Yes, you read that right, I quit. No more IT Specialist, no more Forum Administrator, no more Outreach Program, I am shitting on all three jobs to chase my dreams. With a child, automobile maintenance, bills and a $74,000 mortgage balance in front of me, I quit. Starting Monday morning, I am going to be a rapper. I am going to be totally independent and sell to people outside of Wal Mart and various gas stations throughout the region, never mind the SIGNED artists I know who could put me right where I need to be. I want to do this shit organically. Look, there is no need to tell me “… but Phlip, you can’t rap!” because that is a fact that has not bothered to stop basically any member of the XXL Magazine freshman class since that has been a thing. Just know that when I approach you outside of that Wal Mart, be prepared for me to tell you ANYTHING it will take to get that $4 out of you… “yo, you like Nas, Jay-Z? Well I ‘m better than both of them, COMBINED even!” “lo