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Mabye one day all this will amount to somthing

The Novembor 1998 Update

Page 3 of 6

I personaly think if aneyone's ass is on the line to be canned it will be my boss. She too had been transferred in from the Widgit Divisoin in Chicago, but she dosent even know Widgets: And they had origonaly put her in that division somtime in the late '80s cause she screwed up somthin awful in her prior job in the Thingamajig Division, which dosent even exist anymore.

Plus, one of her endless pain in the ass 20-times a day Humor Spams she sends out to the whole companny was entitled, "Top Reasons You Know Your A Redneck."

Let me tell you when you come down here from Up North and send somthin like that out your bound to get somone pissed at you.

A new strattegy

I made sure I swore to myself that each time I go to work, every day till the re-Org is over, I mean every day till the dust settols, I woud be wearrin this danm jackat and tie.

The Power dump(TM)

The work rellated version: Not to be conffused with the Power Dump you do at home.
No, this is the male domminence ritual that can only be done by one man to annother only if he is atleast two levels abbove him on the org chart. And this is exactley what The Nose Picker did to me, that aftornoon, (folowing a freindly fingerfood "Businness Benchmark" meeting with the Emoticon Twins); It is the process of taking a crap, as loud and horroble a dump you can while forcing an underling to stand directley outside the stall door and take orders from you.

Originally develloped (acording to Granfather) by Lynden Johnson as a crude way to intimidate leftover Kennedyites in his administrattion who he perceived as effete and egalitarrian, the Power Dump has recentley flowered into an an art form thanks to the Internet industrey, what with its perfect blend of ass kissing, job insecurrity, and generol lack of profits for many involved.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE BUSINESS BENCHMARKS YET?" shouted the Nose Pickor at me as i stood subserveintly in front of his stall, (repeating the same words to me over and over agian for the beneffit of each new persen who entered the mens room, so they too coud see his houmilliation of me in action), and inserting and re-inserting the phraise after pontifficating each new instruction, dirrection, pronouncement, grunt, moan, groan and splash. While I stood in front of the stall ajdusting the knot on the tie I never wear.


I didnt even know what a 'business benchmark' was othor than a lame new media term, I thoght, while standing there, but one thing was for sure: He sure as hell was makin some marks on that bench he was on. I felt as if i was a partcippent in some sort of awful nightmairish scene in a bad Quentin Tarentino film where right aftor it is released the director has to make all the talk show rounds in order to answer qeustions with that shocked deffensive I-am-the-artist-how-dare-you-question-me look on his face when interveiwers ask him on TV how the hell he coud of in his right mind includded such a dark, disturbing scene when it has nothing, absoluttly nothing to do with the plot of the danm movie. Which come to think of it is nothin new for me.

The next day

The ext day was one of those days where I was schedouled to work at home. At 8:30 in the mornin there was a phone call from Granfather. As is usuol with the old basterd, he reffused to say why he was calling till I put him on speakorphone. It is a power thing with him. He just likes to scream at me. It makes him feel supperior.

"BWAH," he barked at me. "HOW MUCH MONEY YOU GOT?"

I said to him Granfather, I am in debit until December 2, 2041 (give or take a year), so as a mattor of fact i got NONE. This is why I have to stay and tak care of him. Granfather knows this, but he ofton asks me this just to annoy me.



Yeah right i said. We will all send her money so she coud run for president. Granfather shouted at me real loud that she was alredy quite rich and didnt need my money at all: This was for my own good. I then heard the little squeaking honk of the large eared microcephalene female version of the two-time Reform national ticket candiddate chatter at me across the room on speakerphoen like a small yappy dog with a north Texas twang, "I woudnt want to be president annyways. Why hell, I'd have to move to a smaller house in a bad neighborhood."

Then Granfather got on agian bellowing at me and just beffore he slammed the phone down on me said that now he wasnt goingto share at all with us what the "kickass idear" they were talkin about was.

The Counselling session