Winner Winner, Vodka Dinner

If you haven't found this little slice of heaven where the ring/hook game resides, as did my drunkass on Wednesday night, you are an unfortunate soul in an even more unfortunate city. How a ring, a hook, and four vodka tonics keep me sane during the work-week, I'll never know. But I'm grateful... hungover, but grateful.

SURVIVORBITCH

The natives stare at me like I’m the most evil thing that has ever graced this jungle… like just seeing me has ruined their day. Now I know how the neon lights on the Hunt Building feel.

My blind ambition and can-do attitude in this here forest of printer paper, politicking and penny-pinching executives were likely refreshing at some point… and assuredly reminded each of my cube neighbors of the same day they had walked in the door many years, or decades ago.

Now here I sit, with a bulls-eye on my forehead, typing furiously to keep up with the four jobs that have been piled on my sole plate. Cost maintenance, they call it – not layoffs like the rest of the world. I call it the demise of the high-potential, Gen Y employee & shitty management.

I’ve been given a laptop, an unlimited supply of Diet Sunkist, headphones, and a customer support team nine worlds away from me to survive. I tried to fashion a surrender flag out of the Sunkist label, but no one seems to get it… or just too frantic themselves to acknowledge it. Plus, it's sort of orange. That can be confusing. Regardless, my office humor these days seems not nearly as humorous to those who share this jungle with me.

They are all too busy looking for a job… or figuring out a way to screw up their transition documents so badly I can’t help but fail. Based on what I have seen so far, I’m confident it’s the latter. My dog could have eaten an ink cartridge and shit out clearer instructions onto paper than what these people are leaving behind. So it goes.

Back to the jungle, for now. More to come.

It's the Little Things

Lately, I have noticed, people in Dallas are mildly surprising me. Whether in good, bad or re-damn-diculous ways, it’s still the unexpected in a monotonous week I can’t help but appreciate.

1) To the guy in the Jeep on the other side of 35, thanks for flashing your lights repeatedly, thus saving me from a ticket & a possible physical attack against a cop amidst my deferred adjudication probationary period.

2) To the waitress at Idle Rich who didn’t laugh out loud at me on Wednesday as I ordered a Mexican Martini, of all things, thank you – and you are a better woman than I ever aspire to be.

3) To the friend who accompanied me to said bar & blindly encouraged drinks 4 & 5, thus leading me to one miserable, headache & nausea-filled day of segmentation analysis meetings, you suck… in a loving way, of course.

4) To the bitch in the grey Lexus who cut me off today out of nowhere, go fuck yourself. And your car is ugly. No argument necessary, just ugly.

5) To my neighbors whose trashy friends forced my apartment complex to start limiting the number of guests allowed at our pool on the weekends, I repeat, get a job, and maybe some professional help.

6) To these people, stop making me look bad. I like being lazy – love it, actually. This is the only job I have that doesn’t involve, well, work. Let’s keep it that way.

7) Last, but certainly not least, to sweet little pasta bowl lady at Eatzi’s with lipstick so perfectly applied even Mary Kay herself would be in awe, you rock my world – and my tummy. Your culinary prowess scared my hangover off so fast I was actually able to enjoy my afternoon nap in the health room at work.

That Credit Limit Isn't Going to Spend Itself

Not sure what is more incredible: 1) These dumbasses believing that having the 2nd generation iPhone the second it is released actually adds to their quality of life somehow & is worth losing a night of sleep & a day of work over 2) The fact that they are probably using their 1st gen iPhone, still working just fine, to text & chat while waiting to buy the 2nd one. "But it's a deal at $200!" they claim... OR 3) Me wasting 3 seconds of my life snapping this picture.

What is it, guys... do you really think you have outsmarted Apple? That they are the morons for selling such a fine piece of equipment for a measely $200? Or is it that they are pure geniuses who held on to their high price point for just long enough to where they have fooled you into believing not only is it a good idea, but a steal at $200.

Even funnier is the anger they exhibit as you snap their photo... with a BlackBerry. "What the fuck are you doing?" the angry Apple-lovers ask. Laughing at your bitch-asses, I think to myself. No, buddy, I'm not emailing this to your boss to whom you will be calling in your sick day tomorrow (from my MacBook Pro, no less, that I bought for a steal at $3,000 - on which I've already had to replace the logic board... twice. Thank goodness for the deal that is AppleCare @ a chintcy $300. I use coupons at Whole Foods & avoid McKinney Ave. gas stations so I can wipe my Apple-loving ass with $300. And so do you, apparently). I know you need that job to pay those credit card bills for all of those necessities you purchase... those items of true need versus want.

Hope 3G is everything you dreamed - and if not, I'm sure Apple will have your next need ready & waiting for a deal... thank the Good Lord for consumers like you, without whom I would not be employed.

UPDATE: I'm sorry, but what? When did free time become as worthless as a guest list as Suite?

Lung Cancer Never Looked So Good

There's a very good reason this man was so relaxed at board meetings:

While this man looks like he's about to crap his pants 24/7:
Alright, fair enough. They both look like they are about to crap their pants - I think Herb just legitimately might have been constipated.

Nevertheless, when interviewed recently, Gerard Arpey (pictured above), CEO of American Airlines, was quoted discussing increasing flight fees & costs stating he does not think we (AMR) necessarily have done a good job in explaining the impact of high oil prices.

He then went on to explain how 1+1 usually equals 2, that swimming within an hour of eating is bad for your tummy, that Tila Tequila is a dirty pirate hooker and that the earth really is round.

"Holy shit, I had no idea," no one was quoted after reading the interview.

$4.83 & counting, kids. Bankruptcy filing ETA: Aug 31, 2008. Sunday, Bloody Sunday.

Any takers?

Damn. The Jig is Up.

This makes me smile. Those rampant Dallas street girls? Not so much.

C.O.V. - E.R.T. That Spells Covert, Rah-Rah Ree!

Every morning, as I begrudgingly roll out of my comfy bed and stumble to turn on Good Morning America, I half-deliriously wonder what little bit of news genius I'm about to experience... whether their 109th story of the year somehow relating to breast cancer & Robin Roberts, or something I won't go to hell for making fun of like the story on teens conspiring to get pregnant at the same time for fun. Also known as VH1's next reality show.

Either way, I find some semblance of comfort knowing I'm not the only idiot up this early... until, of course, we cut to Greg Fields, WFAA weatherman, whose voice cracking every time he uses descriptors like "a leeeeetle bit cloudy today" or "a tiiiinnnny bit of sunshine peeking through" make me want to punch my TV, and whatever God-awful hue of lipstick Alexa Conomos is wearing that day, a leeeeetle bit too aggressively.

Regardless, today was different. Today we were talking about covert ops. The coolest two-word phrase you can ever use - and one that will get heads turning and ears perked no matter what environment you use it in.

Today, I was suckered in. Then, as I stood there and listened, perplexed, Good Morning America reported on how the U.S. is increasing its investment & efforts on covert ops in Iran. Really turning up the volume over there - so shhhhh, America. This is top secret stuff.

So, I apologize for my ignorance on political affairs, but by their nature, aren't covert ops supposed to be, well, covert?

My natural inclination is to believe yes, they are. And an increase in their breadth & depth in Iran would also be classified information if those same operations were actually REAL and/or CURRENT. Don't make me feel like a casino security extra in Ocean's Eleven, bitches.

So, my next thought naturally turned to annoyance, and then anger. No, not out of disgust for my soon-to-be ridiculously & inappropriately long jaunt from my humble abode to the highway, thanks to what has to be a conspiracy by civil engineers to take as long as God-damn possible to finish the road construction between Maple & 35 on Oak Lawn. No, not angry because of that.

My anger stems from the fact that we, unfortunately, are complete dumbasses. At least that is what news outlets like this have to assume for this story to be worth telling. And the fact that it is fed to us as though we are being told the truth is even more embarrassing.

The dollar may be down, the economy may be in the crapper, but one thing is for certain - it will take a lot more than a few shitty days on the stock market for the general population to all of a sudden get the truth, on-time, and in-context. Opposite-day in a DISD budget meeting this most certainly is not.

And it will likely take even more for our government & propagators of its public relations efforts to stop using network news as a soap box and/or indirect communication channel when all other channels have already been destroyed by us, or the more likely culprit - Alexa Conomos's favorite shade of lipstick.

Yeesh.

Keep Up The Good Work, D-Town.

Hope you all are enjoying my lifetime savings. Here are a few additional words of encouragement for you... you cute, cuddly P/E ratios. Just wanna pinch your lil' cheeks.

- You’re on the right track now!
- You’ve got it made.
- SUPER!
- That’s right!
- That’s good.
- You’re really working hard today.
- You are very good at that.
- That’s coming along nicely.
- GOOD WORK!
- I’m happy to see you working like that.
- That’s much, much better!
- Exactly right.
- I’m proud of the way you worked today
- You're doing that much better today.
- You’ve just about got it.
- That’s the best you’ve ever done.
- You’re doing a good job.
- THAT’S IT!
- Now you’ve figured it out.
- That’s quite an improvement.
- GREAT!
- I knew you could do it.
- Congratulations!
- Not bad.
- Keep working on it.
- You’re improving.
- Now you have it!
- You are learning fast.
- Good for you!
- Couldn’t have done it better myself.
- Aren’t you proud of yourself?
- One more time and you’ll have it.
- You really make my job fun.
- That’s the right way to do it.
- You’re getting better every day.
- You did it that time!
- That’s not half bad.

Why is my initial reaction to almost all of these "Ehhh, go F yourself"? Corporate America & stocks that do what these are doing today might have something to do with it. Happy Thursday.

I'd Use My Hoe for More Than This

Guys, seriously. If you go to the trouble to steal a backhoe, of all things, smash it into a store, and steal something – wouldn’t you like to have taken more than just a pack of smokes & some Natty Light?

Regardless, cheers to you for style points.

The more perplexing thing to me, however, is this line:

“When officers arrived, two men fled – one in the backhoe and one in a car, police said.”

Last time I saw someone travel at a speed in a backhoe that could be defined by policemen in cars that travel up to 140 MPH as 'fleeing', I had just finishing bathing my unicorn in the sea of goody goody gumdrops. She gets sooo dirty sometimes.

Kudos, though, to the DPD for those cat-like reflexes and their lightning-quick speed. I'll be sure and remember that next time I need a handle of Kettle One.

My Dad Is A Fat, Lazy Bastard

Or apparently that’s what Hallmark thinks.


While this isn't exactly Dallas-specific, this city has bored me lately, so as I trolled through my token holiday card default store this past week, my alter-ego Cruella was in full mental swing.
She is the “evil” part of me that can turn any pure, innocent idea into something monetizable - like Father's Day, and she's also the part of me that can go from calm to headcase in about 3 seconds if someone is wasting my time.

Nevertheless, my big money idea this day wasn’t genius – couldn’t possibly be unique or even that profitable, but where the hell are the cards for the dads who aren’t lazy sons of bitches... the dads whose idea of a Father’s Day isn't to sit in a recliner with a beer, belly peeking out of a too-small T-shirt while getting off on having control of the precious remote for one day of the year.

I spent 45 friggin' minutes looking for the one card that actually had my father in mind. I didn’t find it. Because you don't make one, assclowns. So, I did your fucking job for you & wrote my own card.

Maybe I’m naïve, but I have a hard time believing that 98% of dads in this world have raised successful, ambitious children by scratching themselves while napping in a velvet, Coors-stained recliner with the flicker of a football game in the background... or that the majority of daughters purchasing a card for their fathers can find humor in a joke about credit card bills or asking for money.

Hell, Hallmark, maybe I've been wrong for all these years. Maybe there's no better way to say Happy Father's Day than "Thanks for never teaching me to stand on my own two feet, or never conveying the value of a dollar & a hard day's work, or never correcting my idea that credit card bills really don't get paid by the credit card fairy."

Call me crazy, but I needed a card thanking my white collar, non beer-drinking father for his dedication to showing up for thousands of sporting events throughout my childhood, for pushing me by asking “What happened to those three points?” when I brought home a 97 instead of 100, for challenging me to dream big and to dedicate all of myself to my passion in life, for teaching me that this is very much a run-on sentence, for giving me the tools I needed to make it in my career, in this money-washed & value-stripped city, in this life.

He is not a man of transparent connections, or of schmoozing, or of ass-kissing. He is a big thinker, a tough negotiator and a competitive sonuvabitch. He is an entrepreneur – a man whose every minute is precious and who gave many more of them to my family than he ever did to a beer or a recliner.

So, Hallmark – who the hell raised you? I want my 45 minutes back. And you are welcome for purchasing the blank card & doing your job for you – that’ll be $225. Yeah… I forgot to mention, I’m not free. And my hourly rate increases for morons. Daddy didn’t raise no fool.