Friday, February 03, 2012
Thursday, February 02, 2012
This Stupid Pineapple Is...Actually a Spaceship! (What the H?...Middle)
But not just any ordinary spaceship, this ship is the mother of all ships. This ship is saving the world one fireball deflection at a time. You see there are some planets that want to destroy Earth. These planets that have a need to destroy the human race are evil cheese planets. Although they are made of cheese these evil planets smell like freshly baked brownies. The reason they smell so good is that Earth becomes attracted to their smell and when Earth gets closer to these planets they load up their lava fireball guns and shot these fireballs at us. (Not so nice of these planets huh? I didn’t think so either) Once these fireballs are shot in our direction the mother ship pineapple covers us with a halo to protect us to we have a shield and nothing and I mean NOTHING can get past this shield. Once these planets realize that there is a shield that is protecting Earth from there plot to devastate millions of people they slowly move away. Once they have moved away the mother ship pineapple lets the halo loose so Earth is free to roam around the galaxy. And it’s not long before we smell that irresistible brownie smell and glide back towards these evil planets only to be saved once again by the heroic Spaceship Pineapple.
(I drew this picture in my paint program on my computer, yes I know I have way too much time on my hands and it took me back to elementary school)
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Do you have any idea how disconcerting that can be?
I don't think you do.
Here is an artist's rendition of what the man sounded like:
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Then again, if you haven't been taking care of yourself, this may NOT be a good Valentine's Day present.
So you've got, by my math, about an hour left to shop, which, okay, you may want to quibble with my subtraction there but let's face it, you're not going to get off your duffett and get going, so 1 hour it is, because by the time you remember to do this, it'll be February 13, unless you take my advice and get your loved one some $6.95 prescription eyeglasses from Zenni Optical.
Zenni, which is one of my favorite companies, is that bunch that make stylish,high-quality glasses frames that they then sell to you for literally less than you'll pay for the number 2 value meal at McDonald's (which is the price scale I use to measure everything.) That's the two-cheeseburgers meal, and I'm assuming you're supersizing it because then you get the extra soda for the same exact price, but even then, Zenni's glasses are a better deal and should not be overlooked this Valentine's Day.
(See what I did there? Overlooked? Okay. Not my best work. It's 5:46 a.m.)
Here. Feast your eyes on this:
Again, I apologize for the weak nature of these puns this morning. I've also got a bit of a cold. And a liver condition. Anyway, the point is, that's a very stylish pair of spectacles there, and they cost $6.95.
Zenni's FULL of options like that. And they've got men's and children's glasses, too, which means your Valentine's Day present could be to get all of you new glasses so you can all finally see what each of you LOOKS like.
(Comb your hair, first, it looks like a bird's nest up there.)
Now, many people will be saying "Where's the romance in this?" but to them I say: Last year, you got her a pair of fluffy socks with hearts on them. Function doesn't not equal romance; the fact that they're useful doesn't mean unromantic. You could make a romantic point out of it: Tell her you want to help her upgrade her glasses and pick them out together, or tell him that it's time he stopped squinting his face all up and admit he needs some specs and point out how handsome and smart he'll seem.
Romance is as romance does, as nobody ever said before this moment, so I've trademarked that. Zenni allows you to get a thoughtful, practical, but still romantic gift. And if anything, look at it this way: You can get him or her new glasses for six bucks, and then use the rest of your money for some roses that your loved one will actually be able to see and appreciate.
About two years ago, it was decided at our office that all the lawyers would have their own individual printers in their offices, something which benefitted me greatly except that ultimately it benefitted me not at all and now serves as a daily, if not hourly, reminder of the limits of my power.
I type my own work. I always have, since the time I was a clerk at the law firm where I pretended to work and where I met Sweetie, who was a legal secretary at that firm. Sweetie and I did not work together, as such. She was a legal secretary with real responsibilities, and I was a clerk who was supposed to do things like research but who actually spent more time trying to figure out ways to talk to Sweetie than doing anything else. Some might say that was an inappropriate choice for a young soon-to-be-lawyer just starting out, and would point to the fact that I was later fired by that firm ("let go", actually) as proof of that, but to them I'd point out that now I'm a partner in a law firm and married to Sweetie, which is win-win for me and at best a break-even for everyone else involved.
Back then, I tried my hand at dictating a complaint, which you'd think would be a natural for me, but I messed it up terribly and was told that the secretaries thought it was funny, and I never want to be inadvertently funny, so I gave up dictating and wrote it off as something old people did last century, lumping it in to the same category as "watching CBS" and "not texting."
So now I type my own stuff and I had to share a printer with other lawyers for a while which caused problems because the paper was always running out and nobody was willing to replace it and also people would walk off with stuff you printed mixed in, or I would walk off with stuff they printed mixed in, and in general the whole thing hit a level of inefficiency that really belied the $265 per hour we charge people to not fill our own paper trays.
So our office manager got everyone their own printer, and that would have been great, except that she also decided that everyone would have their own letterhead, so now all the lawyers have official firm letterhead that also says "From the Desk Of" that lawyer, a minor addition that was not strictly necessary given that when I write a letter on letterhead I sign my name, so putting from the desk of at the top is only necessary for those people who are too impatient to read to the bottom to see in my firm sent them this particular letter, or who perhaps are too busy to read every letter they get and must make a quick decision on which letters to read based on whose desk that particular letter emanated from.
That in turn would have been fine, but for two things: First, we hired more lawyers, and second, printers break, especially when you have crummy printers.
So the new lawyers we added did not have their own personal printers, but they did have their own personal letterhead, which meant that they had to share the big printer only now it was at least 70% less efficient because we could not just put letterhead in there, we had to have personalized letterhead, so all these junior lawyers, when they had to print a letter, would type it up, and then walk out to the printer, put their letterhead into the tray, walk back, print their letter, and then go back up and get it, all the while hoping that they were able to do that before someone else hit print and used up their piece of letterhead printing, say, that day's Dilbert to post in the breakroom.
(Dilbert has almost no relevance to working at our firm, but still gets posted because it's a federal law that office workers must make jokes about their office. I have on my wall a sign that says "I can't be fired Slaves have to be sold!" that my dad gave me, and it's only half true: I can't be fired because I own 12.5% of everything here, but I'm hardly a slave because few slaves get to spend their time blogging about being slaves and listening to The Captain by Guster on their computer. I imagine. I don't know any slaves.)
I mostly ignored the inefficiency of all that because only 12.5% of the inefficiency directly affected me, and also because my particular area of practice rarely intersects what the other 33 people in my firm do, which has resulted in most of the firm not knowing what, exactly, it is I do all day, a situation that resulted in some consternation when I became a partner, and also, as I found out, led to rumors that I'm a germophobe because I never eat the breakfast treats people bring in.
But then my printer broke, and I had to take part in the printer scramble and put my letterhead out there to be used when I, too, would walk down the hall to the printer to load my letterhead in and then go back to print my letter and then go back up to get my letter, which should have at least had some aerobic benefits but didn't.
For a while, I amused myself with this by telling myself that eventually our office manager, who actually works for me, or at least 12.5% of her works for all of me, would respond to my repeated emails ("Can you get me a new printer?") with something other than her usual response ("Have you tried liquid air? And checked the toner?")(both of which are ridiculous questions because I don't have access to liquid air or whatever it she was talking about and I don't have the time or energy to go walking around our firm looking for it, and also because the toner is likely not the problem when a printer will print 1/3 of a letter and then jam up while continuing to suck paper into its maw, mangling sheet after sheet of letterhead while making groaning noises.)
And I also amused myself by trying to prove one of my employees wrong; this particular lawyer told me that there is no way that I could ever hit print on my letter and then make it out to the printer to put letterhead in before that letter would print, which I took as a personal challenge the exact same way I take not actually doing anything productive all day as a personal challenge, and I've spent some time trying various permutations of printing to show him I can do what he said is impossible.
I tried, for example, printing the envelopes first, as we all don't have our 0wn personal envelopes yet; it's not, apparently, necessary to announce who drafted the letter before someone opens it, so the critical time, in our office manager's mind, to reveal the drafter of a letter is just after opening it but just before beginning the substantive portion of that letter.
That didn't work: our printer spits envelopes out like... I'm at a loss for a simile. If you can imagine a machine that prints envelopes very quickly, our printer is almost exactly like that.
Then I tried printing other items first: if I had a brief and a cover letter, I'd print the brief, print the letter, and then rush out to put the letterhead in, but I found out all that did was make some random page of the brief print on letterhead and my letter printed on regular paper. I would have to wait until the brief was done, then quickly insert the letterhead before the printer sucked that last page to print the letter, and that frankly was more effort than I was going to put into it.
Then, two weeks ago, I got my new printer! It was sitting in its large box on my desk and it arrived in the same week in which I was getting ready for a big trial and a small trial and also I had about ten zillion other things to do because while I'm blogging it's not like the law just stops (as much as I wish it would.)
So I didn't have time to put together my new printer, which will take some time because I'm not exactly the tech support type, and also, if I do something that we can't bill a client for, the effect on our firm is that we lose $265 per hour for time I spend, which isn't the worse thing in the world except that we have people who we pay just to be here and they don't bill the clients for anything, and those people are, ostensibly, here to support the people who bring in the money (e.g., me.)
So I asked one of those people, the guy whose job it is to deliver mail and make copies and otherwise do busy work and tasks, if he would, at some point that week two weeks ago, install my printer.
Keep in mind how I was raised, which is thusly: When a boss or person in a position of authority asks if you would mind doing something, that person is just being polite by asking; you are being told to do that thing.
And this guy, who I'll call "This Guy," took it kind of that way: he said sure, and then at the end of the week two weeks ago when I noticed that my printer was still in its box on the table where I'd moved it to because I need my desk for the purpose of emitting letters, I mentioned it politely to This Guy, who said:
"Oh, yeah. I'm not very good with tech stuff so I asked [our office manager] to help and she said she would, so we're going to do it soon.""Soon" being, apparently "not soon," as the printer is now sitting, out of sight, under my desk, and was not even opened until I opened it this morning, determined to just put it in because I'm tired of walking out to print my letters which now falsely claim they come from my desk because the printer isn't on my desk at all, but as soon as I opened it I got a phone call and one thing has led to another and now it's 12:34 p.m. and the printer is opened but in its box.
Our office manager, meanwhile, has not responded to my emails, and This Guy, who is very busy looking up information about the New Orleans Saints and the Blue Man Group on his computer at his desk, has several times told me that he's still not very good with "tech stuff."
I could have, I suppose, used the time I used to write this (twenty minutes, not counting going to get a cup of coffee from the break room) to put in the printer, but now it seems like a matter of principle, my own principles mostly kicking in only when I don't want to do something, but having not insisted that This Guy get himself educated in the fine art of opening a printer and plugging it into my computer, I also now, as a relatively new and only 12.5% boss, am unsure what to do. My initial plan (fire the office manager and this guy, hire two new people who will understand what it means when I "ask" them if they would mind doing their jobs) is unlikely to get approval from my partners, whose printers are working just fine. And Plan B, which is to mention again that if he gets a chance to put in the printer, that'd be great, seems a bit Lundbergian, not to mention ineffective.
In the meantime, I have to get back to work, because while I cannot be fired, I can be disbarred if I don't get this brief done, and there's a line at the printer.
UPDATE: Immediately after finishing this, I took my letter out to This Guy, whose job includes mailing letters, and we had this exchange:
He had Facebook up on his computer.
Me: Hey, do you think you and [our office manager] could get around to putting that printer in this week, if you get a chance?
This Guy: Oh. I thought you took care of that.
Me: Nope. It's not hooked up.
This Guy: I didn't see it in your office.
Me: [thinking: That should have been a clue that I did not 'take care of that'] It's down under the edge of my desk. Where I put it until it's installed.
This Guy: Oh. Yeah. I'll try and get to that.
This was previously titled 1001 ways to fine-tune the world, but I changed it.
79: Let's get a uniform system for saying, and repeating, numbers, addresses and the like.
This JUST HAPPENED to me, and it happened twice already today, so there is clearly a need for this lever.
Here's what I'm talking about. I say to you "I'll give you my email address, are you ready?"
And you say: "Yeah," because you're ready.
And I say "Okay, it's thetroublewithroy,"
And then all heck breaks loose, in a very minor way, because one of several reactions happens then:
I might pause to let you take that down, while you write it down without saying anything, in which case I'll wonder if you heard me and might say "Did you get that?" or I might start on the next portion of it.
Or you might begin to repeat what I've told you to confirm that you heard it correctly, thereby talking over me as I go on to the next portion of the address.
Or we might do both and repeatedly stumble over each other as we try to sort out who should be talking about what, a verbal dance similar to what happens when two people meet in a narrow hall.
Earlier today, I had to take down a phone number from a guy on the phone, and here (with the exception of a fake number being inserted) is exactly what happened:
Me: Okay, go ahead.
Him: 1-555 [pause]
Me: 1-555... [pause]
Him: [Starting to talk as I began to repeat his numbers during pause] 867-
Me: I got...
Him: Let me begin again.
And so on.
So here's what I say: everytime you have to dictate something for someone to right down, pause at each natural break, after which that person will repeat what you said, and then you'll go on.
So it'd be:
77. Directional lanes in grocery stores.
63. Pay teachers a lot more.
62. Longer school years.
61. Longer school days.
57. Start all buildings on the first floor.
56. Process EVERYTHING.
13. Ban driving any kind of automobile, motorcycle or other personal vehicle within 1-2 miles of downtown in any city with a population of more than 100,000.
12. Abolish gym class; instead, teach kids to play musical instruments.
11. Change copyright laws to allow anyone to use anyone else's creative work provided that the copier pay 60% of the profit to the originator and that the copier not cast the original work in a negative light.
10. Have more sidewalk cafes and outdoor seating.
9. When you have to give someone a gift, ask them what they want, and then get that thing for them.
8. Never interrupt or finish someone's jokes.
7. Periodically, give up something you like for at least a month.
6. Switch to "E-money."
5. Have each person assigned one phone number, and then add an extension for the various phones and faxes that person might be reached at.
4. Abolish Mondays and Tuesdays.
3. Don't listen to interviews with athletes or comedians.
2. Have "personal cashiers" at the grocery store.
1. Don't earn more than $200,000 per year.
Is this working? You bet --
1001 Ways also helped change the world here!
1001 Ways also helped change the world here!
1001 Ways helped change the world here, too!
And here, I not only changed the world but proved that everyone in the world is either dumb, or mean.
Monday, January 30, 2012
To tide you over as I write my "Stupid Pineapple" Story, here is a picture of what Mr Bunches would look like with a moustache. (Life With Unicorns)