Walter Miller's Home Page

Too dumb to even try to insult your inteligence.

June 1998 Update

Page 7 of 8

Combover spoke so low you coud hardley hear him. He said that he had some good news and some bad news. The bad news was that we may all -- (Yes, and "all" means Management too) -- that we MAY all have to take a 25% pay cut come the 3rd Quartor. But the GOOD news was, we woud all have that same amount of money that we are being docked, (MAY be docked), applied to our employee Stock Option acounts, in case that Cyberblop ever got spun off from Corporrate as its own companny.

"Just think", he said weakley and with a striaght face, "Of how much money that will be for us all, if we turn out to be the next Microsoft."

The whole bus got silent.

Even the bus drivor looked pissed, at least from what i saw of his face in the rearview. He was probly thinkin to himself, "Big honkin' tip I'm gonna get from THESE buttwipes."

Just as Combover sat down someone threw a peice of gum at him (wasnt me) that landed on his head, and for the last 50 miles of the ride the microphone up front was in the shrew claw grip of The Lady Who Screams At Everyone. For the whole next hour, till we pulled into the hotel parkin lot, she was sort of half screamming and half droning on in a bloodcourdling shrill monotone, stamping her tiny high-heeled feet yapping, "Cyberblop means business, Dammit, WE MEAN BUSINESS!"

I felt like I was trapped on the Attention Defficit High School Field Trip tour bus, being lectured at by Katy Couric.

The guy I was sitting next to on the bus, who i never met before in my life leaned ovor and told me that he hapanned to take an unauthorrized look at the payroll servers not long ago, and it seemed that SOME peoplle who work there (Yes, in Management), were in fact NOT getting their pay docked 25%. Well, you cant beleive everything you hear, is what I always say.

A rude supprize at the meeting

My job as usuol at these sort of meetings is to haul out all the servers and set them up on the tables. Just beffore the meeting started, someone said, "Hey Nostrildamus!"

I thohgt I was hearing things. I asked the guy who said it what he said. He said, "I didnt say NOTHIN."


Then the food came in. I tell you, all of these expensive marketting studies aside, you really KNOW the Internet industrey is in trouble by the poor qualitty of the danm finger food they serve at public content-rellated Rollout events.

I'd bet that rollouts for routers and switchers are probly still good and nutritious, but those for Content? Hah! THOSE cheap bastords. Youre eating as well as one of those starving kittens you see on the news cought in a jumbo jet crawlspace flyin arround the world for 2 months as frantic mechannics in every city try to find him as he crys Meow! Meow! while he survives by lickin vapor off the danm hydrollic mounts.

Besides the little freezer-burned tiny pizzas, and cubes of cheese, and melon balls and bacon wrapps, aftor a few minuts there realy wasnt much to eat...Cyberblop people are savage hogs, you must undorstand, and dispite the fact that allmost no one showed up for our dumbass "Rollout", before long there was no food left except a bunch of scraps like tiny pickoled corncobs, a few stray hot peppors, sweaty cheddar squares, carrott sticks, and those garnishy leaves on the trays that finger food sits on when its served, those big blueish bittor salad leaves that taste like goatskin gloves. No food left...Ecxept the penguin....

Yes the pengiun

Right next to a big plastic bowl of meltad cloudy ice which held a bunch of untouched ten-ounce screw-top bottols of The Fine Wines Of Texas there was this beutiful white tasty looking penguin sittin there on a doily as a centorpeice. It was ovbiously molded out of something: It coud of been soft white cheese, or marzipan or coconut cream dessert with vannila frosting, I just did not know.

I was the only one there at this meeting who didnt have a chance to get somthing to eat. This is becuase i had to pay atention to the servers for THE WHOLE DANM ROLLOUT.

Seeing me stairing at the pengiun, my boss came up to me and whispored, "Go for it Walt."

Well I never like to be the first one to cut into a fancy dessert, or take the first slice of somthing, and I told him this. Plus, the penguin looked so prettey. He was all white and had two little chocollate things for eyes. Plus there was a little papper ribbon arround his feet with the URLs of our new clients on it. (The URLs that were suposedly "unauthorrized".)

So, since I woudnt make the first move, my boss motionned over to this other guy, and this other girl, who between them were probly the two biggest slobs in Cyberblop. And the girl came up and lopped the head off the penggiun with her fork.

"Here you go," she said, and slung the hunk on my little paper cake plate which buckoled in my hand from the weight of it, and then turning, she hacked the remainning headless thing as it stood there into 8 or 9 peices, floppin each lump on its own dish, then stabbed the one that I held with a plastic spork.

The penguin's head tasted a little bland, but the thing that made me happey was that they were all smiling. This was the first time I felt realy at home at work. Where i didnt feel that everyone hated me becuase i am such a jerk. Yes my co-workers, especialy my boss, were all atcually freindly.

"Here," they said. "Were not hungry. You finish it off."

Well THAT happey time lasted just 5 minutts...

Next thing you know just as i finished my 3rd helping of penguin (I had not eatan all day), I was being hollared at by some upper level bully type from Corporate with a pole up his butt. He wanted me to show some pompous ass visiter the new website we had on the secured lan--the one that wasnt released to the public yet.

So, I dialed back into the office, and pulled up allthe Network Servers in Windows NT Exploror and saw that one of the new servers was named....Nostrildamus!

I coudnt BELIVE it, I was so danm pissed.

As soon as I finished demo'ing the new site, (It was slowor than crap by the way, and WAY ugly), I ran out of the meeting room and down to the lobby. I got on a payphone and called Junior's house to talk to GRANFATHER.

I was gonna wring the old beasts evil skinny neck for tellin my co-workors about that creul childhood nickname. And, that I hope he is happy that now at work, right next to File Server: NOSFERATU and NOSFERATU_2 that there now is File Server: NOSTRILDAMUS.

Junior picks up the phone

Once more poor Junoir is weeping and cryin. I asked him, "What did the old basterd do NOW."

Junior tells me that Granps did nothin, its just that he is frightoned to death because a "mysterious shape of a sickley yellow hand" had sudenly appeared all by itself on one of the dark brown hand towols in his bathroom. Junior was sure it was a heavenly sign from abbove that the End of the World was near.

It took me a minnute but i finaly relized that I had made that mark when I wiped my hand full of Peroxide on his towol.

I told him, "Junior, I made that mark."

"YOU done made that hand mark!" he cryed, "Then Granpy ain't the ONLY devil in your fambly! Shorely the end of the world is 'at hand'!"

I told him to PLEAESE calm down and put the bastord on the phone. When Granps got on, he said in a purposely effemminate voice, (trying to be funny), "NASALCROM NOSE SPRAY HEADQUARTERS, HOW MAY I DIRECT YOUR CALL?"

I told Granfather TO KNOCK IT OFF, and then I told him how mad I was, and how he PROMISED not to reppeat 'Nostrildamus' to anyone.


Then he told me he had to get off the phone, becuase the Channel 18 film crew had just shown up to interveiw them about the marvellous hand mark which sudenly apeared out of nowhere on a towel in a small rurol town. The sound on the othor end seemed to indicate that he dropped the phone on the floor, but evon still I could hear his voice in the near distence:



Then I hung up. I turned around and my boss was standing there right behind me, grinning, and flairing his nostrils in an exagorrated way. He told me that Granfather called to tell him abbout 'Nostrildamus' atleast 2 weeks ago. And that he still had the phonemail reccording of it back at the office if I wanted to listen to it.

"Your grandfather is a pisser," he said to me.

Yeah right EVERYONE thinks the old basterd is funny as hell, but i am the one who has to live with him and cook and clean, wipe his butt and change his danm diapors.

I also told my boss to stop flarin his nostrols so much, or else theyll get stuck that way: Like mine did. For a second he looked frihgtened, and quickley held his nose.

Then my boss frowned, and said that Id bettor get outside becuase the bus was leaving very soon.

Uh-oh...Sudenly I felt REAL weird in my stomoch.

I ran straight to the mens room door which was right there next to the payphones in the lobby but it was a little too late. It seems there was a little, um, unannounced 'rollout' of my own going on. Have you evor shat in your pants. Well thats ecaxtly what i did. It was the most unusuol thing that ever hapened to me. I didnt feel myself crapping instead my ass just kindof leaked.

OK I have a weak stomoch to begin with but I never ecxpected this. I ran into the bathroom, and stumboled headlong into the stall. I hoped as hard as I evor hoped for anything that I woud be able to hold in what was now, torrentially rumbolling out. Letme just say that proof that life is not a game is seen in the fact that in real life, you dont GET no 24-second Shot Clock to clear your goal thru the rim. Do you know what I mean? I locked the stall door and began tearin my clothes off. No mattor how hard I treid to hold it in I coud not and it just kept comin quickly OUT.

Outside of the stall, standing there at the urinol, with his head down, peeing was that slob guy, who along with that slob girl, had hacked up that pretty white centorpiece with her fork. Without looking up at me he said, "Say, how's that penguin sitting?"

Then he zipped up and left. Yes withuot even washing his hands. But I was too shaken to barely notice. This was one of those awful times in your life where time stood still. When you are too numb and shocked to cry or even think. Like the time I was nine, and saw my grandmothor drop dead in front of me while I sat there in the bastord's trailer eating Wheatina.

I dont know how long I stood there (and sat there) in the stall, and stood there (and sat there, and sat there, and sat there), holding my soiled clothes bunched up into a ball so no one who hapanned to come into the restroom coud see them lying on the floor under the stall door and perhaps figoure out what was going on. Just like when you are in a bad car acident, and you dont remembor the facts until aftorword, I sudenly realized that atleast 4 or 5 of my coworkers in the lobby saw EXATCLY what hapenned.

Finaly, the slob, who had been in there peeing, came back into the restroom. He was with my boss and they were both giving me a hard time saying to me, "You idiot, this is what hapens when you eat three helpings of ornamental shortening."

Oh, God, that's what it was. Shortning for Godsake, pure grease. No wondor I was pooing like a goose.

This was the most Hummiliating momant of my life

The slob left, and only my boss remained in the men's room, who mumbled to me through the stall door that the bus was leaving. He asked me, "How much time will you need?" and I said YOU WILL HAVETO GO BACK WITHUOT ME. Then he asked me a second and a 3rd time but I ignoared him. Just when I got the feeling that he might be feeling pretty guiltey about the whole thing he said, "GOOD! STAY THERE!" and then he left.

Actuoly, no one had forced me to eat the danm thing. I guess the worst part of all was that this situation was none othor than my own danm fault.

The bus was suposed to leave at 5 sharp and now it was 5:15 and sureley the whole danm company knew what was going on by now. In fact I coud hear the knocky rattle of the bus's deisol engine outside the window above.

At 5:20 who comes in the restroom but Combover. Yes, Combover, from Payroll. I saw him thruogh the slit in the stall door. He didnt say aneything to me, but i saw him open the door of the restroom, and hold it open, so from out in the hallway the Lady Who Screams at Everyone coud stand there, and I saw her standing there at the doorway, leaning in, her shoes still planted on the neutrol territory of the lobby carpet, screamming into the men's room at me abbout how TIME IS MONEY, and that the bus drivor was late, and for Godsakes did I fall in there or WHAT?

I said for them to PLEASE go back withuot me. I heard Combover whispor somthin to her about "shortning". And then she screamed somthin back at me about how the company woud not be liable for my transportattion or for that mattor any lawsiuts that might come from this. Then finaly everyone left.

How I got myself out of This Stickey predicamment