Wednesday, August 26, 2015


Okay seriously, why the hell are the people I work with so afraid off the words “I don’t know”? I’m fine saying I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn’t be fucking asking you. I don’t expect you to be omniscient. Chances are, you’re an idiot. Most of the time, I am. Unless you’re Elan fucking Musk or one of the Google people, there’s a better than average chance we’re in the same boat. I’m not asking to make you look bad or feel stupid or to elevate my position in the company. I don’t care about my job enough to put that level of House of Cards interest into things. I’m genuinely asking to get a genuine answer, not some passive aggressive bullshit response. Okay venting over. Like I said, I don’t like my job enough to put more effort into bitching about it.

Friday, August 21, 2015


That feeling you get after watching a TED talk or something and you get all motivated to do something innovative and industrious and planet-altering….and then two hours later, after playing a game on your phone when you just give up and accept that the most productive thing you will do this month is to shift a bunch of pixels on a screen so that some drone in another department can shift more pixels on another screen; and you resolve that as long as you don’t spend all weekend sleeping and watching internet pron, that’s success. 

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Jolly Rancher

Oh Jolly Rancher, you bastard redheaded stepchild of candy. Unwanted and unloved you sit in this conference room bowl, like the kid picked last for dodgeball. Maybe you’ve been there a month, maybe you’ve been there since Easter, maybe last Halloween. Nobody knows. In your sad plastic wrapper long since stuck to the edges in such a way that opening you still seems to leave bits of plastic behind that will probably lodge themselves in my esophagus. But I won’t leave you to wallow. This instance of me skipping lunch means that like a sacrificial virgin about to be tossed into a volcano, I shall select one of you. A solitary piece whose desolate existence shall be at end. Will it be the green apple? The blue one that I assume is supposed to be raspberry, but honestly, who can tell the difference at this point? Or the fruit punch set to stain my teeth and tongue for the remainder of the afternoon? Wait, is that fruit punch or like, cherry or something? What does it matter? I’m not going to pick you anyway. And so the choice has been made and the wrapper set to release the sugary goodness within. Oh, that’s right, I forgot, you taste fucking horrible. 

Saturday, August 08, 2015


I would rather visit the Medium Wall of China or the Ordinary Canyon. Close enough that you get the idea and the crowds are a lot smaller.