Life in a Cube

Office work is interesting. Here are some things I have learned about office jobs.

• There are no people that act like characters on The Office. Do not expect a Dwight Schrute, a Michael Scott, or even a Jim-and-Pam. Sure, there are funny people, but they are all funny in the conventional "e-mail forward" sense of funny.
  
  
• There are people that look like characters on The Office. I have a Stanley and a Phyllis in my office. Which ones do you have? Collect them all!
  
  
• To quote my man Morrissey, "Here everybody's friendly, but nobody's friends." In the office building, it is a prerequisite to say hello to everybody every time you pass them in the hallway. If you just saw them five minutes ago but you went a'roaming, you must say hello when you pass them again. Are you at the urinal next to somebody? Salutations--just don't shake hands. Do you know their names? Will you ever? The correct answer is "No, but hello to you, friend!"
  
  
• Your cubicle is an extension of you. Are you a fan of the "basketballs?" It is your solemn duty to let everybody know by tacking pin-ups to your walls of the Philadelphia One Thousand Seven Hundred Seventy Sixers. My only decoration is a Dwight Schrute bobblehead, which conveys to my coworkers that I am boring.
  
  
• If you are bored--and you will be because you work in an office--you have to make your own fun. Sure, you could ceaselessly refresh all your websites on Google Reader (p.s. helpful office tip number 34: familiarize yourself with RSS feeds for maximum economy in slacking), but you'll become a lonesome soul. Spice things up. One fun thing to do is have Post-It Battles with coworkers--silly messages, games of "Twenty-Questions," and what-have-you. It doesn't matter what you do. The important thing is that you waste paper, and spend a couple minutes of your time doing it.

So that's work. Oh, and I also do work at work. I am the only male secretary in the entire building. And you can take that one to the sperm bank.

On non-office-related thoughts: did you know that all people are people? I was unaware of this fact until just recently. You see, authority figures have never been people before. They have been faceless automaton robots that want to suck out my brain with their magical powers.

But within the last year, I got to know a number of people personally that I'd never come across before. Security guards; doctors; teachers; police officers. I've had conversations with all of these people, and it turns out that they have families and ambitions and insecurities and rent/mortgage payments just like everyone else. Especially the "insecurities" part.

So do yourself and the world a favor--treat everybody like a human being. Chances are that they hate their job as much as you hate your own.

The following people are still not people (until they come to me personally and prove otherwise): supermodels, famous actors, beautiful women of any sort.

And now, to catch up in the previous month of no-posting: some Six-Word Reviews of Various Things!

Film

• Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: Changed from book for the better.
• The Bourne Ultimatum: As great as the first sequel.

Television

• Big Brother: Absolute trash three times a week.
• The X-Files Season 1: Got in a groove, kicked ass.
• The X-Files Season 2: Virtually flawless.

Music

• Violent Femmes: Live in Iceland: Short, but agressive and well-played set.
  
• Violent Femmes: BBC Live: Brilliant set from band's golden years.
  
• Violent Femmes: Live in Chicago: Noteworthy for songs from Freak Magnet.
  
• Zappa Plays Zappa (concert): Tight improv band, did Frank proud.
  

Is Watching You

Big Brother is the stupidest, sleaziest trashfest ever to hit American television. It has no redeeming values, and despite my brother's protestations, I've never watched an episode. It's the cause of everything that's wrong with today's soc--

One of the partners answered the questions while the other partner sat on a spinning mushroom. Once you fell off the mushroom you and your partner were out of the competition.

What's that? Three nights a week? I'm there.

Is it "Eghit Ledgeg Frakes?"

WHAT?

I was going to go mini-golfing tonight, but apparently there was a torrential downpour. Instead, my friends and I went to a local coffeeshop and had delicious beverages. The java joint was called St. Thomas Roasters (Linglestown, PA).

My friend Theresa ordered the strawberry smoothie with whipped cream, and she said that it was "really good," and that it "didn't disappear right away." There is your "review" part of this review.

I ordered a large coffee--my usual--with the intention of having decaf--my usual. However, one golden name beckoned to me from its shiny urn--"Snickerdoodle."

Snickerdoodle-flavored coffee. Like the damn cookie.

Of course I had to have it. Screw the fact that I literally haven't had any caffiene in about a year and a half. I had to have cookiecoffee and I had to have it then and there.

And you know what? It was okay. It tasted like somebody sprinkled a spoonful of cinnamon into their coffeepot, although I'm sure there was some insidious something inside of that beverage. It leads me to wonder what they put into the coffee to make it so scrumptious. Did I inadvertantly drink five thousand calories? Am I going to balloon back up to 300 pounds overnight? In bikini season?

So apparently caffiene has an effect on me now. It is currently almost four in the morning and I am wide awake, shirtless, and typing a blog on the American Online Internet Web.

Bonus side effect of drug-induced insomnia! GSN (formerly called "Game Show Network," but officially shortened like KFC or ). Apparently six days a week, America gets together for two hours of joy called QuizNation.

The premise is simple. The hostess with the mostess (who, at least tonight, was former professional dancer and confirmed goddess Angelle Tymon) will ask you--the home viewer--a simple question. Then, you enter a random drawing to get yer voice heard on live television as you mangle the answer by sending a $0.99 text message to the requisite number, or if you're not retarded I guess you could enter for free at the GSN website.

What's that? Don't have a cell phone to send a text message? That's okay. The host will frequently clarify that you can easily use your mom's cellular telephone at one in the morning to make the text-message equivalent of a 1-900 number. For reals. It's like Soupy Sales telling kids to send him their parents' "funny green pieces of paper," except without the cleverness. And you can enter up to ten times a night! That's a lot of dough!

The whole thing is like phone sex, except instead of an erection you get a shot at hundreds of fabulous dollars.

I choose erection.

The whole game show was insanely stupid, of course. Angelle cracking wise about the Tootsie Pops Owl (for reals). Questions like "READ TO US THIS VANITY LICENSE PLATE FROM AUSTRALIA: GDAM8." But then it hit me.

THIS IS GENIUS.

I immediately tried my hand at entering the live competition. I had to try spending a dollar on a text message. Because Angelle's come-hither eyes told me to, and I didn't want her to go without dinner (and/or sexwithme) tomorrow. After that failed attempt, I logged onto the GSN website and spammed every telephone number currently in this house in my attempts to get an entry. My house phone. My cell phone. My parents' cell. My brother's cell. His wife's cell. The fax machine. That second line that we used to use for Internets but then we had it disconnected because some guy named "Q" kept making collect calls to us from prison.

The funniest thing is that the vast majority of "contestants" got the extremely simple questions wrong. Here we go. I'm entered in the contest. Question: "Top Five Movies starting with the letter 'E' from an informal poll" turned up the obvious E.T. The Extraterrestrial, but also such classic hits as Epic Movie (my votes for movies with integrity like El Cid and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind immediately went down the chute).

So I was left without solid answers and three spots to fill. I realized there was no way that I would get the right answers if I did actually get on the show, so I planned on going for the comedy third option--voting for Ernest movies across the board. Ernest Saves Christmas. Ernest Goes to Africa. Ernest Eats a Huckleberry.

But Sweet Angelle was getting frustrated. We've been on this stupid, stupid question for over an hour and nobody would get the remaining answers. So the crew at the show essentially give the answers to the audience, essentially handing the lucky caller $500 a pop to get the words right. The scrambled names obviously came out to Eight Legged Freaks, Eurotrip, and Ever After (which helped constitute the worst top-five movies list I've ever seen in my entire life). Needless to say, another fifteen minutes passed and none of the redneck callers got the answers correct.

I will be spending every night of my week watching this ridiculous show and trying to win thirty bucks.

Some favorite YouTube clips of Quiznation: Angelle dances like a Ninja Turtle, Angelle doesn't realize they are back from a commercial break.

Then Let's Make a Deal came on and I got bored. Tomorrow: I see Morrissey in concert Sorry for the ramble.