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John Kerry: “If I’m about to drive into a brick wall, I will turn the wheel. I recognize that sometimes circumstances demand that you change course.”
George W. Bush: “Once I start drivin’, I don’t turn for nothin’. I’m resolute!”
— This ridiculously oversimplified voter education moment is brought to you by the Remedial Driving Instructors Association.
This is what it looks like when you make a sandwich around here.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Elvis tattoo is leaving the building for the very last time.
I’ve changed my voicemail message to say, “Hi, this is Chuck. I don’t work here anymore.”
I’m about to turn in my laptop, and I will NOT be removing all the radio station stickers I’ve put on it over the years:
(Ewww! The VP who reminds me of the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz just came by for a hug — blinking back tears, of course. Ewww!!!)
And since I keep talking about the Elvis tattoo but you’ve probably never seen it, here’s a picture of it:
And now… Now I’m going to reformat my hard drive, power the laptop down, and hit the road.
I’m free.
Today is Layoff Day — or as the company likes to call it, Reduction In Force Day. Today, the final axe falls and the last 20 people go home for good.
So of course the tears are flowing.
Good lord. Already I’ve had two people come collecting hugs and making tearful promises to “keep in touch.” Blech.
People, people! Get some perspective. The only reason we know each other and have spent any significant time together is because we were getting paid to be here. I won’t be keeping in touch with you, not unless there’s a check in it for me. You think I’m going to hang out with you people for free??? Wake up!
Oh, and you people who I’ve avoided and not spoken to for two years? Especially my former manager who wrote me up for basically doing my job? Stop coming by my desk to say how much you’re going to miss me. I don’t care; I’m not going to miss YOU. You’re fucking up my perfect record of getting out the door without ever talking to you again. Just stop. Turn around and go cry with someone else, maybe someone who’ll actually shed a tear for you.
There’s a very small list of people from this company who I think are cool, and those people all got an email from me yesterday saying so and giving them my personal info. If you didn’t get that email…? Take a hint.
(No, no, not YOU. You didn’t get the email? Shit, I’m sorry, I must have forgotten to send it to YOU. Everyone else who didn’t get it, didn’t get it ON PURPOSE. You not getting it was a total MISTAKE.)
Hugs and tears, for fuck’s sake. Spare me.
Dan Rather, CBS News Anchor
George W. Bush, President of the United States
Caller ID is a wonderful thing. It can help you to answer calls from your wife with “What?” and screen calls to avoid the thousand-and-one sales calls that come in at dinner time. And our kitchen speaker-phone makes it entertaining, too, by completely mispronouncing the name of whoever it is that’s calling. Like our Privacy Manager feature, which the kitchen phone announces is Pree-vah-see Mah-nah-gerrrr.
Tonight, we dodged several calls from Tel-ee-fund Eye En Seeee, which I recognized from dozens of other dodged calls as Telefund, Inc. I had no idea who Telefund, Inc. was, but since none of my friends or family are named that, it automatically became a call I didn’t answer.
Until they called four fucking times tonight.
I answered the last one at 9:20 p.m. It was someone from the Democratic National Committee who was calling for–
“At 9:20,” I interrupted. “At night.”
She instantly copped attitude with me. “Sir, by law we’re allowed to call up until 9:30.”
And she then proceeded to launch into her schpiel about… Well, I don’t know what the fuck it was about, I was just waiting for the inevitable plea for a donation. And of course it came: If I could just give $25, John Kerry and John Edwards can… Blah blah blah.
I am her target audience. I’m a Kerry/Edwards supporter. I should have been a sympathetic household. But I wasn’t. At all.
“So you’re going to call me late at night and piss me off, then tell me you’re allowed by law to piss me off, and then ask me for money?” I asked her. “I don’t think so. Don’t call here again.” And I hung up on her.
I hope that’s not the tactic they’re using to get votes, too, otherwise Nader will win by a landslide.
Bush’s hometown paper supports Kerry. if the president read newspapers he would be real mad.
Tony cracks my shit up.
As I’ve mentioned earlier, my company is about to perform a massive “Reduction In Force” in which they’re laying off something like 75% of the company, me included. They’ve been letting people go on a staggered schedule — 15 people here, 20 people there — and the final release is taking place this Thursday, when the last of us will be “free to leave the building” after our exit interview — oh yeah, and after we turn in our laptops, cell phones, pagers, etc.
Management dictated that nobody could use vacation or PTO days this week, so the last few people from my department are all in the office this week, all of us with nothing to do. Seriously nothing to do. Our job has been to convert radio stations over to our software, and with all the stations converted we literally have not a single damned thing to do. So we’re chatting and surfing and IMing and talking on the phone and … we’re just basically here, taking up space and killing time as we wait for Thursday to inch its way closer.
The only bright spot in our day is lunch. There’s a movie theater right around the corner, so that’s what’s for lunch these days. Yesterday we had some nice Shaun of the Dead (two very enthusiastic thumbs up, btw), today we’ll probably try The Forgotten, and then Wednesday it’ll probably be Cellular.
Lunch. It’s the most entertaining meal of the day.
…for my very special visitors: Hi! Hi!
Brother, can you spare a $20?