... and humble. Okay, now that we've all had a good laugh to clear the cobwebs away this fine morning.
This week has been an exercise at work. I was pulled from my daily duties to be a guest auditor. That is, I was asked... nay, I was expected to stab my nose into other peoples' bidness and sniff around to find any hint of impropriety. Invalid discounts on services rendered. Missing PO's or exposed credit card numbers. All that jazz.
I'm not sitting at their desk or calling them, but merely going through calls they've worked on to see if everything is there that is supposed to be. The idea being that I will gain some better understanding of process flow and how some things interact with other things in the company.
How about this: Apply the SOX audits to congressional actions. Yeah, that'd be a hoot.
Paffendorf, Be Cool
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
10 February 2007
31 January 2007
Just stay in bed
I wish I'd have said that to myself this morning. "Larry, just stay in bed, buddy. It's a fucked up world out there, and it's snowing shit. Just stay in bed."
Nothing catastrophic, just a bunch of surplus piss-ant things that chose today to show their greasy, puss-leaking faces. Among them?
The mystery cut at the very tip of my left index finger. Feels like a paper cut, but I usually remember those kinds of things pretty vividly. The point is, THAT'S MY TYPING FINGER DAMMIT, and so is extra annoying baceause the bandage on it is really fucking with my ten-word-a-minute typing velocity.
The new water dispensers at work here. They are built with the devil spawn "automatic sensor" that senses when the glass you want to fill is almost lined up with it's devil spawn spigot, and proceeds to dispense water down the OUTside of the glass. Once the glass is completely in place, the stream shuts off, pissing me off to no end. I'm sure somewhere in the marketing glossy that our management team was sucked in by are the words "efficient", and likely "saves water". I assure you, it does neither. Instead, it increases sales in paper towels from having to clean up the fucking mess... (insert Sam Kinison scream here) If you work in marketing, please take no offense when I say you suck big green donkey dicks, and I hate you.
I'm not even going to tell you about the adventure in parking my car today, save to say that I did fine; It was the idjit trying to reverse into the space next to me. Again, and again... and AGAIN. I couldn't open my door until she was done because I wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't shear it off. (oops, guess I told you about it anyway).
Oh, and today is a twelve hour work day due to month-end. Hey, does that mean I can blame my demeanor on "That Time Of The Month"? ...nah, didn't think so.
:sigh: Just stay in bed Larry.
Candlebox, Cover Me
Nothing catastrophic, just a bunch of surplus piss-ant things that chose today to show their greasy, puss-leaking faces. Among them?
The mystery cut at the very tip of my left index finger. Feels like a paper cut, but I usually remember those kinds of things pretty vividly. The point is, THAT'S MY TYPING FINGER DAMMIT, and so is extra annoying baceause the bandage on it is really fucking with my ten-word-a-minute typing velocity.
The new water dispensers at work here. They are built with the devil spawn "automatic sensor" that senses when the glass you want to fill is almost lined up with it's devil spawn spigot, and proceeds to dispense water down the OUTside of the glass. Once the glass is completely in place, the stream shuts off, pissing me off to no end. I'm sure somewhere in the marketing glossy that our management team was sucked in by are the words "efficient", and likely "saves water". I assure you, it does neither. Instead, it increases sales in paper towels from having to clean up the fucking mess... (insert Sam Kinison scream here) If you work in marketing, please take no offense when I say you suck big green donkey dicks, and I hate you.
I'm not even going to tell you about the adventure in parking my car today, save to say that I did fine; It was the idjit trying to reverse into the space next to me. Again, and again... and AGAIN. I couldn't open my door until she was done because I wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't shear it off. (oops, guess I told you about it anyway).
Oh, and today is a twelve hour work day due to month-end. Hey, does that mean I can blame my demeanor on "That Time Of The Month"? ...nah, didn't think so.
:sigh: Just stay in bed Larry.
Candlebox, Cover Me
20 December 2006
Oh look, a blizzard.
Today I was passenger in the carpool to work, for the driver has four wheel drive (and there was much rejoicing). Why so happy about this? Well, here's what happened while I was at work... or, "Meanwhile, back at the ranch". Elapsed time from dry to this was eight hours:
Mario was wondering what the hell was up:
Let's back-track a tad, shall we? I didn't check the weather last night. I didn't check the weather this morning. I walked out to the car with no jacket... basically, this was me:
Yeah. Froze my ass off leaving work, thankyouverymuch. But at 5am, all was fine. A little breeze and mere hints of teeny snowflakes falling, no big deal at all. Thirty miles and a mere half hour later there's an inch of snow on the ground and I overhear "blizzard warning" from a passing coworker.
Long story short(er), management takes until 11am to decide to let people leave to go home before it gets ugly out there... Oops, too late. Grrrr. Two and a half hours later I get home. Carpool driver made an additional ten miles over the course of the following two hours on his way home. Two hours. TEN miles. Gee, it's a good thing we left before it got ugly.
Mario was wondering what the hell was up:
Let's back-track a tad, shall we? I didn't check the weather last night. I didn't check the weather this morning. I walked out to the car with no jacket... basically, this was me:
Yeah. Froze my ass off leaving work, thankyouverymuch. But at 5am, all was fine. A little breeze and mere hints of teeny snowflakes falling, no big deal at all. Thirty miles and a mere half hour later there's an inch of snow on the ground and I overhear "blizzard warning" from a passing coworker.
Long story short(er), management takes until 11am to decide to let people leave to go home before it gets ugly out there... Oops, too late. Grrrr. Two and a half hours later I get home. Carpool driver made an additional ten miles over the course of the following two hours on his way home. Two hours. TEN miles. Gee, it's a good thing we left before it got ugly.
09 December 2006
T'is the... no, too cliché
While work is rolling along fairly nicely, the ten of us in the group decided with the boss to take a half day off Friday afternoon at the company's expense. Have a nice lunch, unwind, maybe get a White Elephant gift exchange going... Done deal. This might seem pretty anarchistic and edgy at first glance.
"Yeah man! Get paid to slack off at some restaurant, dude! Oh wait! BAR HOP! YEAH MAN!" (pause for Pantera goodness... Hole In The Sky ... Okay, good)
Alas, this is a company-endorsed once-a-year thing that each manager can do for their team. Hasta-la-bye-bye anarchy. Fare thee well, edginess. We the team just decide when during the year to do it, and go.
I'm sure you're just as shocked as I to find out that most teams take some Friday in December to do this, aren't you? Yeah. Hey listen, if I missed your call... I really don't care, okay? I hope you left a message.
We also decided that, in the spirit of being a team, we'd get all chummy & take the light-rail together to the destination. So the four of us get on the train (remember that "ten of us in the team" bullshit earlier? yeah... anyway) and get a kick out of mocking the others on board. Mostly just the driver's voice, really. If you've ever seen Monsters Inc. and recall the guy that voiced Roz, a.k.a. Number One, you might be interested to know that person is the driver of the F Line from the Lincoln station up to 16th & California here in Denver. Combine that with a Napoleon Dynamite-esque 25 second siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggghhhh before saying, "Please keep clear of the doors as they close" and you have a great idea of what we were listening to at every. Damn. Stop.
Yes, they do have an automated voice with some nice lady that tells you what stop is coming next, but I guess this driver just HAS to make use of his talent and accompanying captive audience. I offered up a little prayer: "God, please speed us to the end of the line... I don't care if the brakes go out, just please make his narration STOP! My sides are killin me here from laughing so much, and the other riders are looking at me funny. Yes, that includes my coworkers."
So, meeting the other six people at the destination, much conversation ensues about entertainment (being Hard Rock Café, that's just going to happen). Well, at some point, boss lady mentions The Partridge Family's Danny Bonaduce & his reality show from a year or two ago. One coworker chimes in, "Oh yeah. He was a mobster, wasn't he?"
blink... stare ...blink
You hear the pin drop, followed by laughter. I dunno, did the Partridge Family ink a record deal by other than talent? It kinda makes sense. Unless (or even if) you subscribed to the "Ah, that creepy Reuben was getting some action on the side" theory.
I ordered the HRC cheeseburger. Heather was our waitress. Go there. Ask for her. Treat her well, and she'll take care of you. She kicks ass. Tip her poorly, and I'll kick yours. M'kay? So Heather asks how I want it cooked, and I reply, "I'd like to hear it MOOO when you bring it out, but whatever the legal minimum time that you're required to cook it will be fine."
Did I mention I'd taken the seat next to the group's vegetarian? She was displeased with me for that. Understand that when I say she was displeased, I don't mean she glared at me, or spun off on some vegan rant, or teared up at the thought of the cow remnant that was soon to be devoured in front of her. No, instead she took the high road and slugged my arm. Hard.
I ordered a Guinness to go with that slab o' meat. Sitting on the other side of me was our resident Muslim follower, and he slugged my other arm.
Yeah, I really like my team. We can vent as needed and not get all those fucked up "hurt feelings", and visits from HR followed by "sensitivity training".
Eating with two bruised arms was an interesting ordeal though. Still, it was a good burger. I'm even here to tell the tale as, opposed to driving the porcelain bus courtesy our good friend Mr. Coli, E. Yay for the home team.
I did my Capitalist bit by buying a damned t-shirt. That makes two HRC shirts that I own now. Pathetic, ain't it? On the up-side I have a dozen not-extravagant wine glasses that fucking MATCH from the White Elephant exchange, so I'm happy. (See Heather? I didn't say anything about those shot glasses you let the coworker slip into her bag o' goodies! ... uh, that is... ~nevermind~)
After the gift exchange and "See ya later"s outside on the 16th Street Mall, three of us meander back to the train (notice how we lost one of our initial four?) and head back down to get our cars at work. The day ends well.
Bruce Cockburn, Mary Had a Baby
"Yeah man! Get paid to slack off at some restaurant, dude! Oh wait! BAR HOP! YEAH MAN!" (pause for Pantera goodness... Hole In The Sky ... Okay, good)
Alas, this is a company-endorsed once-a-year thing that each manager can do for their team. Hasta-la-bye-bye anarchy. Fare thee well, edginess. We the team just decide when during the year to do it, and go.
I'm sure you're just as shocked as I to find out that most teams take some Friday in December to do this, aren't you? Yeah. Hey listen, if I missed your call... I really don't care, okay? I hope you left a message.
We also decided that, in the spirit of being a team, we'd get all chummy & take the light-rail together to the destination. So the four of us get on the train (remember that "ten of us in the team" bullshit earlier? yeah... anyway) and get a kick out of mocking the others on board. Mostly just the driver's voice, really. If you've ever seen Monsters Inc. and recall the guy that voiced Roz, a.k.a. Number One, you might be interested to know that person is the driver of the F Line from the Lincoln station up to 16th & California here in Denver. Combine that with a Napoleon Dynamite-esque 25 second siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggghhhh before saying, "Please keep clear of the doors as they close" and you have a great idea of what we were listening to at every. Damn. Stop.
Yes, they do have an automated voice with some nice lady that tells you what stop is coming next, but I guess this driver just HAS to make use of his talent and accompanying captive audience. I offered up a little prayer: "God, please speed us to the end of the line... I don't care if the brakes go out, just please make his narration STOP! My sides are killin me here from laughing so much, and the other riders are looking at me funny. Yes, that includes my coworkers."
So, meeting the other six people at the destination, much conversation ensues about entertainment (being Hard Rock Café, that's just going to happen). Well, at some point, boss lady mentions The Partridge Family's Danny Bonaduce & his reality show from a year or two ago. One coworker chimes in, "Oh yeah. He was a mobster, wasn't he?"
blink... stare ...blink
You hear the pin drop, followed by laughter. I dunno, did the Partridge Family ink a record deal by other than talent? It kinda makes sense. Unless (or even if) you subscribed to the "Ah, that creepy Reuben was getting some action on the side" theory.
I ordered the HRC cheeseburger. Heather was our waitress. Go there. Ask for her. Treat her well, and she'll take care of you. She kicks ass. Tip her poorly, and I'll kick yours. M'kay? So Heather asks how I want it cooked, and I reply, "I'd like to hear it MOOO when you bring it out, but whatever the legal minimum time that you're required to cook it will be fine."
Did I mention I'd taken the seat next to the group's vegetarian? She was displeased with me for that. Understand that when I say she was displeased, I don't mean she glared at me, or spun off on some vegan rant, or teared up at the thought of the cow remnant that was soon to be devoured in front of her. No, instead she took the high road and slugged my arm. Hard.
I ordered a Guinness to go with that slab o' meat. Sitting on the other side of me was our resident Muslim follower, and he slugged my other arm.
Yeah, I really like my team. We can vent as needed and not get all those fucked up "hurt feelings", and visits from HR followed by "sensitivity training".
Eating with two bruised arms was an interesting ordeal though. Still, it was a good burger. I'm even here to tell the tale as, opposed to driving the porcelain bus courtesy our good friend Mr. Coli, E. Yay for the home team.
I did my Capitalist bit by buying a damned t-shirt. That makes two HRC shirts that I own now. Pathetic, ain't it? On the up-side I have a dozen not-extravagant wine glasses that fucking MATCH from the White Elephant exchange, so I'm happy. (See Heather? I didn't say anything about those shot glasses you let the coworker slip into her bag o' goodies! ... uh, that is... ~nevermind~)
After the gift exchange and "See ya later"s outside on the 16th Street Mall, three of us meander back to the train (notice how we lost one of our initial four?) and head back down to get our cars at work. The day ends well.
Bruce Cockburn, Mary Had a Baby
01 December 2006
Tired? Me? Why do you ask?
I spent 6am to 8pm yesterday at work. Best part? The tool I use to do my job told me that I was done. Ten minutes before shutting down a manager comes by and asks about "The List". I say, "It's done. Have a go.."
"No, there are two left in there, one that's been done since last week."
Sure as shit, there's a call sitting since the 24th, ready to go. I didn't see it. Number Three didn't see it. So now the POS order manager system has taken to lying to some of us. Grand.
Upgrades are coming at the end of the year, which are touted to fix everything ... just like last time. It still boggles my mind, just how much cash money we've poured into this shit.
Our CEO gave his fiscal year end pep talk a few weeks ago. You know the one. Where he gives his hand motion in front of us all to advise how great everything is, and we nod our heads and tell the people next to us how great everything is... I admit the bonus is a nice one. Biggest I've seen since starting five years ago, actually.
Snow snow snow. Skiing time is soooo close, and the ski pass is burning to be used. Soon.
Oh! Happy December, everybody.
Combichrist, Without Emotions
"No, there are two left in there, one that's been done since last week."
Sure as shit, there's a call sitting since the 24th, ready to go. I didn't see it. Number Three didn't see it. So now the POS order manager system has taken to lying to some of us. Grand.
Upgrades are coming at the end of the year, which are touted to fix everything ... just like last time. It still boggles my mind, just how much cash money we've poured into this shit.
Our CEO gave his fiscal year end pep talk a few weeks ago. You know the one. Where he gives his hand motion in front of us all to advise how great everything is, and we nod our heads and tell the people next to us how great everything is... I admit the bonus is a nice one. Biggest I've seen since starting five years ago, actually.
Snow snow snow. Skiing time is soooo close, and the ski pass is burning to be used. Soon.
Oh! Happy December, everybody.
Combichrist, Without Emotions
08 November 2006
ImposSiebel
Hmm. So let's say you pay $2400 for a TV plus $180 tax at Best Buy, but you decide it doesn't show the swimsuit channel clearly enough and take it back. Best Buy credits you only the $2400. Wouldn't you be rightly pissed about the missing $180? My company is doing this to our customers for some asinine reason.
Oh, the customer gets the full credit, but only after the rest of us jump through needless hoops to manually pull an additional credit invoice out of the ass of this order mangler system. And we paid cash money for this system... I wish I could tell you how much fucking money we have thrown at this donkey-dick sucking piece of shit, but it's too obscene a number for me to even type.
Sister Machine Gun, Got To Be
Oh, the customer gets the full credit, but only after the rest of us jump through needless hoops to manually pull an additional credit invoice out of the ass of this order mangler system. And we paid cash money for this system... I wish I could tell you how much fucking money we have thrown at this donkey-dick sucking piece of shit, but it's too obscene a number for me to even type.
Sister Machine Gun, Got To Be
13 September 2006
What day is it again?
House is clean-ish. The way I see it, if there's nothing crawling up outta the drains and the color of the carpet is a) identifiable and b) same as when I moved in, it's a win. A couple more people have viewed it, but still no offers. Even with the fucking curb appeal that was imposed.
Ice Cream Social; Work is putting on a fundraiser for United Way, so tomorrow ice cream will be scooped, toppings will be dribbled and sprinkled, and people will be like pigs to the mud pit. They might even fork over some donations, which would be nice. I've got scooping duty for a half hour, so we'll see how it goes.
ponder
S.U.N. Project, Fatal Error courtesy DNA Lounge Radio
Ice Cream Social; Work is putting on a fundraiser for United Way, so tomorrow ice cream will be scooped, toppings will be dribbled and sprinkled, and people will be like pigs to the mud pit. They might even fork over some donations, which would be nice. I've got scooping duty for a half hour, so we'll see how it goes.
ponder
S.U.N. Project, Fatal Error courtesy DNA Lounge Radio
23 August 2006
5:10 am
I'm late. I slept right through the infernal alarm clock that was blaring (I'm guessing, based on the weird just-waking-up dreams) Buddy Holly's Peggy Sue among other "oldies". I find it's better to wake to music that there's an off chance I might actually like rather than some shock-jock wanna-be giggling about fart jokes. Yeah, Denver is really grown up in the radio DJ scene, I tell ya.
Okay, so I really hate it when the radio station I wake up to plays anything by Tom Jones. I admit that get's me flying out of bed to cross the room and shut the music off, but if that's all I was looking for, I'd leave it set to the fart-joke channel.
Anyway, I'm late. I'm also congested. Well, half congested & half running actually. It's bad enough when your damn nose doesn't know if it wants to run like Niagra or stop up like Crazy Glue. It's truly a sad state of affairs, however, when one nostril goes the Niagra route and the other nostril attempts... nay, succeeds in its quest to solidify.
Did I mention that I carpool to work? No? Well, I do. I call my ride & tell him to pass me by. Catch: He's already in the driveway. Fuck. Okay, rapid PBA bath & hair/tooth brushing, dressed (matching socks even) & I'm out the door in ten minutes. I'm sure I'll be castigated for mentioning how much I love being a man, but what the hell.
So I'm at work getting my caffeine buzz on when I've finally had enough of the nostrildammitallus & take some Tylenol Cold (non-drowsy). Big. Mistake. My fingers are all tingly. My nose is battling the Tylenol. Serious battling; I feel the cartilage in there ... adjusting with each chemical volley to counter the other. So much for the blood donation today I suppose.
Coworker has been struggling with math. He's taking an Algebra course and was having trouble with a two variable problem. His solution? Just eliminating the letters makes it much easier. :groan: He'll probably be promoted, too.
Stevie Ray Vaughan, Rude Mood
Okay, so I really hate it when the radio station I wake up to plays anything by Tom Jones. I admit that get's me flying out of bed to cross the room and shut the music off, but if that's all I was looking for, I'd leave it set to the fart-joke channel.
Anyway, I'm late. I'm also congested. Well, half congested & half running actually. It's bad enough when your damn nose doesn't know if it wants to run like Niagra or stop up like Crazy Glue. It's truly a sad state of affairs, however, when one nostril goes the Niagra route and the other nostril attempts... nay, succeeds in its quest to solidify.
Did I mention that I carpool to work? No? Well, I do. I call my ride & tell him to pass me by. Catch: He's already in the driveway. Fuck. Okay, rapid PBA bath & hair/tooth brushing, dressed (matching socks even) & I'm out the door in ten minutes. I'm sure I'll be castigated for mentioning how much I love being a man, but what the hell.
So I'm at work getting my caffeine buzz on when I've finally had enough of the nostrildammitallus & take some Tylenol Cold (non-drowsy). Big. Mistake. My fingers are all tingly. My nose is battling the Tylenol. Serious battling; I feel the cartilage in there ... adjusting with each chemical volley to counter the other. So much for the blood donation today I suppose.
Coworker has been struggling with math. He's taking an Algebra course and was having trouble with a two variable problem. His solution? Just eliminating the letters makes it much easier. :groan: He'll probably be promoted, too.
Stevie Ray Vaughan, Rude Mood
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