Friday, June 29, 2007

Asshole of the Day


Need a Nap Guy

Do I look like a fucking Sealy Postrurepedic mattress to you? Then why is your head coming dangerously close to my shoulder? When you paid your $2 to get on this bus, it did not include room and board, so take your dragon breath, falling over in your sleep, need a nap ass and get the hell away from me. You're lucky I don't pull out my razor and cut your ass.

UPDATE: Asshole of the Day-It's still me!

So today, I think I met the elusive Tourette's Girl. Not sure exactly who it is, but I've narrowed it down to two people. Well candidate number one (who always has her door closed, go figure) got on the elevator with me. Surprisingly, she doesn't have a hump or weird body odor. In fact, she's cute. And we actually had a conversation about the retarded ass people who were lined-up to buy that new overpriced Ipod thingamajigger.

However, she seemed really nervous, like she was about to let a scream rip in the packed elevator and she was relieved when the doors opened. Well now I feel like a real asshole cause besides sounding like an extra from a Friday the 13th movie, she's entirely normal.

Perhaps we can be pals, but we'll never go out anywhere. Kind of like the guy who dates the fat girl with the really nice personality.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Asshole of the Day

This kid's parents.

Hell to the naw.

I was just on an airplane coming back to Chicago from Vegas for a business trip. If that would've been my plane, someone would've had to come bail me out for unleashing a Buhster-beatdown on those assholes.

Hey Parents,

Assholes aren't born, they're made. All I have to say is - YO FAULT - for raising such a little shit.

Do us all a favor and drive the next time you travel. Scratch that. Just don't leave your house, assholes.

-Buhster


Monday, June 25, 2007

Asshole of the Day: ME!


I've been waiting for the opportunity to nominate myself for Asshole of the Day, but there's just so many assholes that I run into on a daily basis, that I hesitated to steal such a coveted spot. Well, I am officially nominating myself. I'm usually tolerant, incredibly tolerant, especially about shit that people can't help. Well I am about to lose it...on a girl with Tourette's Syndrome. I know, I know, it's not her fault, God and some fucked up chromosomes made her that way.

But I can't even cry in my office in peace for 20 minutes without her screeching...it's a screech, very much like that of a bird. It's like having a fucking bald eagle two doors down from me. But if I tell her to shut the fuck up, then it's not PC?

If I were screeching like a banshee every 20 minutes someone would tell me to shut the fuck up, so what's up with the double standard?

I will keep ya'll posted on this situation...and if I lose my job over it.

I Sold My Soul for a $2,000 bonus and a coffee machine


Sigh, damn y'all. It's been a long 8 days. It's 11pm and I'm in my nightie WORKING. WTF! This isn't what was supposed to happen. In my fantasy, I walk into my office, throwing open the draperies and opening the window to let in the fresh air. I walk to the Flavia machine and have a conversation with one of several hotties who work on my floor. I finish all of my work by 10am and then participate in creative brainstorming sessions for the rest of the day, ordering lunch from the nearest French bistro.

Uh, so it really goes something like this: I walk into my windowless office, throw my bag down, run to the Flavia machine and engage in conversation with some intern who most likely knows a lot more than I do. I frantically scan through the 20,000 newsletters I receive every morning on topics I don't care care about but need to know. I start on my neverending project with the totally unrealistic deadline and curse my "boss" for throwing this complicated shit on me. Damn you excel! Damn you to hell!

Funny thing is, I still don't want my old job back...

Friday, June 22, 2007

Am I the Crazy Person?

Buhster here, on the verge of committing herself to a mental institution...

At my old job, I often found myself asking the question - Am I the crazy person? Because all of the people around me seemed to think that the miscellaneousness that they were thrusting upon me was normal. So it made me think...gee, maybe it's not them. Maybe it's me. However, seeing as how many of the normal people who work there have either fled or are currently trying to flee, I was feeling pretty secure in the fact that I wasn't crazy.

Until today.

I don't find myself asking that question much at my new job. However, today I asked it over and over and over again beginning bright and early at 8:20 a.m.

So here's what happened:

  • Three weeks ago, I called the photographer we use all the time (we'll call him Triflin' Poo or TP for short) to set up a photo shoot for today for a company big-wig. Made it clear that I needed him to do it at our office because of big-wig's schedule and that I would send him the specs for the shoot as they were very, very specific.
  • E-mailed TP that same day to give him the specs for the shoot.
  • Called earlier this week to confirm the appointment for today and asked if he got the e-mail with the specs.
  • E-mailed the specs again after he claimed he never got it.
  • Got an e-mail LAST NIGHT from TP saying he JUST OPENED the e-mail and thinks it would be easier to do the shoot at his studio.
  • Call him to tell him that's impossible with big-wig's schedule. He agrees to come to our office.
  • TP shows up 15 minutes late and takes another 15 minutes to park. Meanwhile, with the help of two co-workers, we're lugging all of his shit up the elevators.
  • We finally get up to the conference room, and he says it's just too small to do the shot.
  • I spend the next 45 minutes (after telling big-wig that we'll be delayed by about an hour) trying to find a new location.
  • I finally find one, only to learn that TP has realized that he forgot his battery packs, which means he has to go back to his studio to get them. He says it'll "only take 20 minutes."
Asshole, I didn't have 20 minutes, 20 minutes ago!

At this point, I was forced to cancel the shoot because I couldn't keep pushing back the schedule on the big-wig.

Seriously, am I the crazy person?

Was it too much to ask that he read his fucking e-mails? Was it too much to ask that a "professional photographer" actually remember to bring all of his equipment?

And while all of this was going on, he had the audacity to say to me over and over again, "I wish I could've talked you into doing this at my studio."

Bitch, you might have been able to talk me into it 3 weeks ago, but not the morning of the shoot. Had you read your fucking e-mails, we wouldn't be in this situation.

Say cheese, asshole. This is me taking a mental picture of the last time I'll ever deal with someone as incompetent as you.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Asshole of the Day


Free Flavia Machine

Damn you Flavia for making such tasty coffees and easy to use recipes for Choccochinos, cappuccino and hazelnut coffee with a tasty milky way topping. I am now ingesting 1,500 calories a day in flavored coffee drinks.

Mo Money, Mo Problems


What comes between five and seven? Six, and that's the average time I've been leaving the new job. My "supervisor," and I use that term loosely, has been MIA since my first day so my ass has been on my own. Today, in my overzealousness, I went around asking folks if they needed help. Eight hours later, I asked myself why in the world I asked that stupid ass question cause the answer will always be yes. So, it's day 3 and I'm busy. But I must say it's "contained miscellaneousness." Everything has something to do with my job description. Though I fled at 6:45pm today, I was content. I'm even going in early tomorrow, cause that's what you do when you don't absolutely hate your job and when the work you do actually has a purpose.

Other cool shit I've been doing:
Calling Germany to track down a media list, bitch answered the phone in German and I'm like "Habla Espanol. Mi casa es Chicago...u speak English lady?"

Joining one of the company's two volleyball teams: ain't no old folks in this place.

Getting my corporate American Express card, cha-ching

Pricing a full-page, full color magazine add, cause...shit we can afford it

Thinking of ways to spend our $2million dollar budget for 2007

Monday, June 18, 2007

Tales from my first day at my new job


Okay, so my dumb ass didn't take any time off between jobs and I found myself sitting at Dunkin Donuts at 8am twiddling my thumbs and trying to figure out if 10 minutes or 15 minutes constituted fashionably early. I decided on 10 and showed up at my new job dressed in black (because I would like to be taken seriously.) Of course wasn't nobody there cause who shows up early except for retarded new people who are on salary but have yet to realize that they can show up when they want and still get paid the same amount (noted.)

I notice two 20-something chicks (one totally had a boob job, they were crooked and distracting) waiting so I being the oldest I think (sigh, welcome to agency) introduce myself and make small talk. We get greeted by an overly chipper HR person, get offered tea, coffee, water, or fruit and proceed through the maze of a floor (I'd like to point out that the poor interns are delegated to the "Intern Pit" yes, that is the official title but at least they keeps it real.)

We go through orientation and I discover that indeed this place has all the essentials: A lady that comes in to do manicures and massages cause we're just TOO busy to leave the building for that, one friday a month where we all leave our desks at 4:30 pm and come hang out and get free food oh, and a whole bunch of health insurance and shit.

I got my own office (how I keep dodging cubicles, I have no idea) and I almost passed out from the smell of cleaning fluid and the lack of ventilation. I have also been scared straight into staying on task, cause hot diggity dog our IT department actually knows what the hell they are doing. One guy entered my computer remotely and was moving shit around (can you say Ghost in the Machine) so I guess I won't be blogging at work till I can beat the system.

Sadly, I didn't get the memo in my orientation kit saying I actually had to work now cause by 1 pm I had my first assignment and was researching my ass off trying to find media hits. I literally was working for 10 hours today, BUH. But strangely, I was content. I dare say, it was a miscellaneousness free day...except for the normal CTA bullshit. Bitch, you missed the freeway exit! Sigh.

Friday, June 15, 2007

A Whole New World--I like being unemployed


Since I'm in my late 20s, I wake up early like old people do. I was showered, dressed and locking up the crib by 9:30am on my first and only real day off before I start my new job. I step outside and...there's people out...lots of people. I chalk it up to living close to a university (lucky bastards) and proceed to my solo breakfast at the pancake house.

Get there, it's packed. I get stuck in the "you're eating solo" section which is pretty much behind the dumpster and next to the dishwasher. Then I hit the nail shop. Afterall, who's in a nail shop this early...everybody and their 2nd cousin that's who. It was then that I surmised that most of the people in Chicago are unemployed and independently rich.

My day off was a fluke, but these assholes look like they never go to work. I hit a couple more shops, each with lots of customers and came to the conclusion that I really don't want to work anymore. Being unemployed is the biggity bomb. I will never make fun of bums again cause apparently they're smarter than I am.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

(Creepy) Asshole of the Day

The Belly Bandit Asshole

According to our sources, apparently there are random strangers out there who have the audacity to think they have the right to walk up to a pregnant lady on the street/in a store/wherever and touch her belly.

Seriously? Who the hell do you think you are, asshole?

This is a warning to future Belly Bandit Assholes -- If there ever comes a day that Miss Misc or I are pregnant, don't even think about coming near us with your God-knows-where-they've-been hands. If you do, prepare to be karate chopped.

Wax on, wax off, asshole.

XOXO
Buhster

Bye, Bye, Bitches--A Short Poem


It’s my last day to wail and bitch and moan


About how you don’t pay me enough to cover my student loan


No more crazies in the elevator, no more loonies on the phone


No more editing speeches till they have the right tone

My ass is out, you heard me, I’m walking out the door

Me no do worky for you anymore

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Asshole of the Day


The Non-Self-Editing Asshole

I took the elevator upstairs to ask a coworker (who refuses to answer the phone) a simple question-should have taken 2-minutes tops. Twenty-five minutes later I stumbled back to my office with way too much information.

Listen asshole, I wanted to know about a URL address, I did not want or care to know the following inappropriate details about your life:

Your low-dosage birth control pill doesn’t work
You haven’t had your cycle in four months
You want to buy an electric car
Your brother in law got laid off and his wife is a stay at home mom
You prefer a female gynecologist
You really loved your former dentist


I don’t really know you like that homie and I never will because I am leaving this shit hole in 48 hours never to be seen again. On a side note, of course this person has been fast tracked in the company and will soon be receiving her own department. How fitting.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

The Joys of Quitting


No one told me it would be this wonderful. I find myself doing the happy dance and bursting out into the chorus of George Michael’s “Freedom” 3-4 times per day.

The best things about quitting are:

1.Deleting e-mails that could save your ass in a crisis, because your ass no longer needs saving

2. Answering your phone only if you feel like it

3. Being late and leaving early knowing there’s no consequences

4.Throwing away full file folders without going through their content (and making lots of noise as you do so)

5.Telling your boss what assignments you just aren’t going to get to in the next two weeks

6.The fleeting look of jealously that passes through everyone’s eyes when you tell them

7.The promise of working with people who may actually be normal and good at their jobs

8.Making a mental note of everyone you will absolutely not miss and never plan on seeing again

9. Declining all meeting notices without giving an explanation

10.Writing cryptic messages on the underside of your desk in permanent black marker to warn the next poor sap

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Asshole of the Day

Acne

Get the hell off my face, you asshole. I paid my dues when I was 15. Go terrorize an Olsen twin or something.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Top 5 Responses to Ridiculous E-mails

I e-mailed a co-worker and got back a normal answer followed by a question. I answered the question. End of e-mail chain right? Wrong. This person decided to e-mail me back “Glad I thought of it.” What the fuck kind of response is that? How do I reply? “Me too.” Do I give her a cyber pat on the back for her original thought?

Have you ever gotten an e-mail that you didn’t know how to reply to?
Did your FYI turn into a friggin dialogue that totally eliminated the purpose of it being an FYI?

Try one of these tried and true (okay, we haven’t tried them but we wish we could) responses to shut the dumb a-hole up and end all present and future correspondence:

5. Everybody poops.
4. Yeah, with extra cheese.
3. Thank you for your message. However, I’m currently away from my desk right now because you make me sick, you self-aggrandizing asshole. If you need immediate assistance..I don't care.
2. I saw it! Seriously, like 3 inches tops.
1. Syphilis.

Friday, June 01, 2007

R&R=Resignation and Reisling


That’s right my friends, you heard it here first. Miss Misc is officially getting the hell up out of purgatory, I mean my current job. By 8:06 a.m. this morning I had turned in my notice to my boss and was doing the happy dance on the elevator heading to the HR department.
By 8:06 p.m. I plan to be full of pasta and Riesling (the classiest white wine ever made.)
But not to fear. I will still post regularly cause face it, miscellaneousness abounds.

Asshole of the Day

Money-Grubbing Cab Drivers

Dear Asshole,

I don't have a camera strapped around my neck, and I'm not wearing Bermuda shorts. In fact, I'm in business casual attire coming from an office building in the loop. Do I look like a goddamn tourist to you?

I didn't think so. So why would you try to take me on the longest route home and then yell at me when I try to correct you? Do you honestly think I'm going to tip you after that?

Suplise! I speak-a de Engrish, Asshole, and I'm a local. No tip for you.

Buh to you,
Buhster