Today’s Musings

You know what would be funny?  If they made GPS systems for cars using much more kick-ass voices than those electronic nasty ones they currently use.  You know, monotone lady and Germanic dude?  Wouldn’t it be great if you were told to turn left in 200 yards by say…Mr. T. “LEFT, FOOL!” or like…hear Fran Drescher telling you there’s a bridge coming up?

Or you could listen to Woody Allen say “Recalculating route!”

Maybe some Southern Britney-type chick could say “Y’all missed yo’ exit!”

It would also be sort of fun to have a gay voice to represent all you ‘mo drivers.  “OH MY GAWD, you TOTALLY mithed that turn, girlfriend, but blue is TOTALLY your color!”

Was that sexist? I’m a bad Guv’ner.

My GPS would have the voice of Jack Nicholson from “The Shining”.  “Take the next fucking left or I’ll beat your brains in!”

I’m giving this way too much thought.  But you know I’m on to something.

Journey Pie

I think someone should pay me for this research.  It’s the truest data ever gathered.  I dedicate it to Pistols.  It’s the “True Breakdown of Journey’s fan base” Pie.  Yes, it’s a slow day.  So?

So….

you can clicky for bigger version, compadres

Euro Trash

A couple of weeks ago the Uberlord was taking a vacation in Southern Italy.  Capri to be exact.  Capri is a beautiful, expensive, rich person’s resort but it isn’t a straightforward place to get to – it involves flying to Naples, getting from the airport to the harbor and transferring to a hydrofoil or ferry then, once arriving on the island, catching a local taxi or shuttle bus to your hotel.

Now armed with this information and a thorough working knowledge of the Uberlord, even the most experienced administrative person would pull hair out and contemplate alcoholism or an expensive drug habit when faced with the daunting prospect of having the man and his equally inept spouse, make this journey unaided. I mean planes AND cars AND boats AND buses?  Mon dieu!  The possibilities for bad things happening during that are pretty darn high.

We’re talking about a man who is used to five star luxury and being pampered and catered to at every stage.  He certainly isn’t armed to deal with economy flights from London to Naples and a public hydrofoil, for God’s sake.   I mean those are transportation means that involve traveling with common people like you or me, ripe with the cooties and foreign germs?  Euro germs?  And you’ve seen the infomercials – everything “EURO” is bigger and better.

I prayed he’d have lost control of his faculties and accept this method and that somewhere in the middle he’d get confused, forget all about the hydrofoil, try to swim and get eaten by a shark.

Surprisingly, he didn’t have a coniption fit, he merely frowned into his coffee and questioned the ‘no first class and do i really have to slum it this much?’ thing.  He then provided the expected Uberlordian reaction by asking me to look into more “exclusive” transportation.

Hence began a day of researching alternate means of delivering the giant ass and his lady to his destination without the aid of grubby common types like us.

I made him a nice short list of options which were basically like this:  A motorboat company who would pick him and Mrs. Uberlord up at the airport, take him in a nice car to the harbor at which point they would put him on a private speed boat with champagne and a personal tour guide and would whisk him off breezily to the Island where another very nice car would cart them to their rather expensive spa and hotel.  Sounds quite lovely doesn’t it?

And it should for $600 per person one way, don’t you think?

The Uberlord liked this option quite a bit.  Private boat?  Butler service for the bags?  Champagne en route?  How very exclusive.  How very him.  He liked it right down till he reached the bit about the $600.

“Guv’ner…” he called snootily.  “I know I make a nice living but not THAT nice!  Please find  something more economical.”

This is a man who is rich as shit and who insists on a $800 a night hotel in London every other week, dinners that cost more than I make in a two week period and first class travel absolutely everywhere or he will sulk and refuse to do it.   Naturally though, when something occurs where he has to pay for it himself he manages to lower his demands somewhat.   Basically if the company isn’t paying he’s not paying.

So I called his hotel who agreed they could transfer him from the airport to the harbor, provide him with a Hydrofoil ticket then personally put him on the shuttle on the island, while having a minion carry his bags.  For $200.

“Much better!” said the Uberlord, satisfied although somewhat miffed at the hotel’s lack of offer of a private yacht with wet bar and totally oblivious to the fact this was pretty much the same option as the cheapo “slumming it” one I gave him at the start.

The moral of this story is, the Uberlord is a giant, expectant ass and I should’ve put him in an Italian cab (ha!) and made him take a row boat to the island at which point his luxury hotel would’ve mysteriously turned into the Italian equivalent of a Motel 6.

I always think of these things too goddamn late.

Five Paragraphs of Blather

I had all sorts of crazy dreams last night about jumping around on top of train carriages and wielding bananas in a suspicious manner.  The first part I put down to an abundance of Die Hard movie viewings last night (Die Hard 2 and Die Hard With A Vengeance to be exact) and I think all that Bruce Willis did something to reconfigure my brain.  What a badass mofo John McClane is.  It almost made me want to cover my tank top in blood and oil and jump around in elevator shafts today.  Luckily I have some self-control and a built in need to shower regularly.

The banana thing I have no idea about except I like bananas and would have liked to chomp on one.  I do not usually choose them as weapons, preferring instead to go with nunchuks or battery operated chainsaws with interchangeable blades.

So hi!  How are you all?  Is everyone ok?  Nice and fruity?  Hanging in there?  My life’s been 25 kinds of crazy lately but I think I’m doing ok now thanks to a brand new attitude and a cocaine habit.  Haha, sorry I’m kidding.  My attitude’s as nonchalant as it ever was.

I have decided I like trees.  There is a severe drought of trees in NYC unless you’re in Central Park or similar areas.  Since I am not in NYC at present there are trees everywhere and I like them.  I think it may tie in to the banana thing because maybe I am a monkey.  In any case I am mesmerized by the trees.  Although I did just see “The Happening” the other day and my love affair with trees did dissipate for a moment.

I think that concludes today’s entry about nothing.  I’m back, but I never claimed to be interesting.

The Guv’ner Is Alive And Breathing

Not yet publishing entries but alive and breathing.  And quite alright, thanks to those of you leaving me concerned emails and comments and stuff.

I’m just recharging my sarcastic battery then me and my pie charts will be back in action.

Just so you know, people.  Be afraid.  Hope your wicks are all sufficiently dipped.  Whatever that means.

- Guv

Today’s Grievance

The Uberlord likes lists. He has a serious “thing” for lists. It must be the sexy columns of text in 10pt. Times New Roman that gets his juices flowing. Or maybe it’s the grid-free layout or the heavily shaded title columns. The man has a hard-on for lists. And the lists are always changing.

I’m pretty sure any day soon he will request a list of all his lists so he doesn’t get confused, at which point I will print out every list on my hard drive, compile them into one mondo-document in a giant 5″ plastic binder and beat him over the head with it.

Then I might make him a list of all the local hospitals.

Seriously though, anyone using Times New Roman out of choice should have boiling oil poured on their Netherlands. It’s not a sexy font. It’s a default, ugly, plain fault. It’s like that boring nougat centered chocolate that’s always left last in the box. It’s the last kid picked for the dodgeball team. I will allow Arial if you MUST, but please. Have some respect. Times New Roman is for losers. Verdana is perfectly acceptable for a plain, everyday fault – clean, sans-serif, pleasing on the eye. Century Gothic works and Tahoma is ok and Trebuchet is pretty for a plain font. If you must have a serif go with Georgia or something. Or get old school freaky with some Courier New just to mess with people’s heads. Get a life people! Times New Roman is the Devil’s font.

And by “Devil” I totally mean Uberlord.

You know what happens to people who use Times New Roman every day? They end up writing blog entries about fonts. Let this be a lesson.

No, there is no chart today. You are SO demanding!

Attentiones!

I’m still alive. Kind of. Just not inspired! Inspire me, damnit.

* Also, I’m being bad over at the ‘Stache today. Come on over! There’s free beer. And like…little cocktail sausages on sticks.

Memorial Day

Hey there American peoples! It’s Memorial Day (not to be confused with “Mammorial Day” which occurs only in porn). It is a day to not be at work – gets full points right there, really – and remember stuff. I’m not sure what stuff but I think it’s to do with wars and servicemen and veterans and people no longer with us and I probably should not make light of it at all, however, since this is me and I don’t see a blue moon, I probably will anyway.

Here are some random things I remember:

The time the Evil Queen and myself superglued Mr. Panty Waist’s stapler to his desk so he had to staple all day at a really weird angle.

One afternoon spent drinking red, white and blue margaritas on July 4th and having a blue tongue the rest of the day

Hiding from Daleks when I was little.

Driving in a convertible over the Golden Gate Bridge on a sunny day

Living here in lower Manhattan on September 11th 2001

Getting drunk before my band played a show, tripping over a cord and falling off the stage onto my ass (And no, I don’t have a donkey)

The first time I got on my moped I accidentally twisted the grip and shot across the road into a fence at the speed of light. Well, OK, 30MPH. It FELT fast. The only thing injured was my dignity. And the framed photo of Bill O’Reilly I carry with me at all times. Well one of those things, anyway.

Would you like a pie for Memorial Day? Your wish is my command. Here’s one I just baked especially.

Lady of Leisure

I called in sick to work today and I’m not really sick! What a rebel of society, ladies and gentlemen! I live on the edge, let me tell you.

OK, so technically I do have a headache and cramps too (you don’t have to read that part, gentlemen, oh wait, you already did!) so that sort of constitutes being “sick”, no? It’s also pissing down with rain in New York City and that’s reason enough for me. I’d hate to get wet. “I’m melting, I’m meeeeeelting…”

Plus, my good entertainment buddy isn’t around today to keep me busy and laughing in an Uberlord-free work day and what am I supposed to do – entertain myself? Pffft! Not damn likely.

What I’m going to do is, go back to bed in about five minutes for a nap, get up, eat lunch (grilled cheese sounds pretty good), do something productive (I haven’t decided what yet, ok, I’m working on it.) and maybe have another nap for balance. What a happy, rested and delightfully sane Guv’ner I will be by the day’s end at which time I will proceed to procure snacks and alcohol and watch stuff that’s been piling up on my DVR since November, while sprawling on the couch. Ah good times. Uberlord free, fancy good times.

Admit it, you’re all jealous of my leisurely day aren’t you?

I might fit caffeine in somewhere. And possibly beer. You know, at different times…

I’d make a pie chart to demonstrate all this but you know what? I can’t be assed. You’ll live.

Do Not Fuck With The Guv’ner

I am what you might call “severely awake” today, which is a) scary, b) unusual on a weekday for me (or indeed any day if we’re being honest here) and c) is good for me – bad for everyone else, because this means I will get up to no good, attack all your blogs with ridiculous comments and might even attempt some work! Yes, really!

Talking of work, I’ve been trying to pull this meeting together for weeks that involves ten people all situated in different parts of the world. Naturally, all these people are ‘muy importado’ and expect the meeting to revolve around their particular needs, forgetting everyone else involved is equally important and absolutely as needy. This always turns into one ginormous clusterfuck of nuclear proportions filled with passive aggressive office politics that makes me want to take everyone out back, line them up against the wall and shoot them in the head. Quite honestly, I’d get more done if they were all lying in a pool of blood in the courtyard. Well let’s face it, I wouldn’ t have to schedule that meeting for a start.

Ok, I maybe wouldn’t kill them but I’d definitely enjoy tasering (tasing?) their genitals.

I’d spare this one guy though. This guy, no matter when I email everyone for information or to give instructions for something – no matter what it is, this one guy always responds promptly with the exact information required. He’s like a ninja, with his finger on the pulse. No sooner does my email drop onto his inbox than his finger is on the dial to call me or he fires back a response. That guy is awesome. Or in love with me, I don’t know.

Oh wait, I just saw my crazy hair in the mirror and conclude that no, he’s definitely just diligent.

He’s the only one though. I have to threaten to castrate people or boil their babies to get answers normally. Or people contact me giving totally the wrong information that I didn’t ask for.

And of course when people do respond correctly, none of them actually ever AGREE on a date or time or location. So it’s pointless. A bit like this blog entry. Well not pointless exactly, there IS a chart:

Not HERE, Over THERE!

Happy weekend day of not being at work (I hope!) people! I just popped online to point all you fine people over HERE today, since it’s that time of the month again. No, not THAT time of the month, you filthy beast. I mean I’m being typically obnoxious for the Mustache.

Come join in the fun!

Brain Melt

My brain is so fried today that I managed to book a conference call for participants in NY and London for 8:30am London time with the smug knowledge that “With the five hour time difference that’s 1:30pm New York time and everyone will be happy!”

And they were.

Until two hours later when we all remembered that London is actually five hours AHEAD and I’d actually booked the call for 3:30AM in NYC, which caused decidedly LESS hilarity. Ha! Much as it thrills me to think of these hosers having to get out of bed in the middle of the night to talk about brand marketing and other scintillating subjects of that ilk, I think I prefer breathing without a respirator, so I reluctantly changed it to something more reasonable (and boring). Bah.

I also had to edit a presentation which involved me inserting a pie chart. I think you all know my affinity for pie charts by now, although the one I did today was infinitely less fun than the ones I normally produce for this blog. I always think a slice of any pie chart should be reserved for “Who cares?” because they’re always concerned with the most banal facts or figures ever – the sort of thing that if you read it in paragraph form would turn you glassy-eyed and homicidal in moments. My theory is, that’s the only reason anyone uses pie charts at all – to break the monotony of a bunch of typed figures with some pretty colors and gay abandon.

Plus they make you think about warm apple pie and custard which is never a bad thing. Although that might just be me… Mmmmm pie.

The Guv’ner Is Not Insane

Due to a lull in proceedings today I have messed around a lot. I know, it’s NOT like me and thanks for noticing.

My Gmail account today had a header at the top of the page with the link to a quiz called “Are You Insane?” I have no idea why they thought to place that there because normally those headers are related to the stuff entering your inbox and your basic personality.

I figure that the thing that enters my inbox most, apart from enticements about making my tallywhacker bigger and ‘cease and desist’ orders, are comments from you people, hence where the “insane” part comes in. Thanks a lot people! Now I have a reputation at gmail for being slightly south of barking mad. At least it replaced the blurbs about Afroman that were there before. Believe me you don’t want to know the reasoning behind that…

Naturally, I had to try this quiz, if only to prove I am clearly not insane in any manner.

Hot damn. This quiz is obviously rigged!!!

I take issue with this quiz, because I answered those stupid questions completely rationally and in a sober, thoughtful manner and seemingly this is the thanks I get.

Plus, I know I passed the test because once I realized they were blackmailing me to sign up for all kinds of nasty offers and shit before they’d give me my score, I tried to close it down and then they got all panicky and were like, “Oh Guv, here is your rating, please don’t go, the real quiz was that if you went through all those crazy sign-up pages just to find out if you were insane or not, then clearly YOU ARE VERY INSANE INDEED, PROBABLY MICHAEL JACKSON WARP FACTOR 8, HOWLING AT THE MOON, BATSHIT CRAZY, therefore, we’re happy to inform you that you pass as merely ‘weirdly unusual’”.

Those fuckers.

The End of the World is Nigh

You know that song “Happy Days Are Here Again”? Well happy days just went right up the Swanee because yes, the Dark Uberlord is back in the country and all up in my grill.

He spent the day having meetings, catching up with the state of global affairs with our client and other such noble things, while I spent mine transcribing documents, doing a boatload of expenses and trying not to kill him. Which is harder than it sounds!

I actually accomplished a lot of mundane crap I’d been putting off forever and managed the complicated chore of eating something called a “Big Turk” (yes, his name was Mustafa and he smelled like falafel and anti-American decay) so the day ended on a high note after all. My motto is quite simple: No chocolate, no point.

I do actually alter that motto depending on mood. “No cheese, no point” is another one. “No tequila, no point”? Goes without saying.

“No flow chart, no point” is yet another of my favorites. Which brings me neatly to this piece of crap:

Click click for the big, expanded chart but really, it’s not worth it, it’s pretty crappy

Remember, I never said this entry would be any good, I’m merely posting or people nag me and are all like “Oh Guv, you haven’t posted in DAYS I can’t possibly live without you, I might pine away and die, please, please for the love of God and all that is holy, post a new entry so I don’t have to cut myself to take my mind off the awful quagmire of doom that is a life without your irreverent observations and sarcastic outbursts. Please make me a flow chart or I will surely die.”

It’s a sad state of affairs really.

Checking In

I’m getting far too used to this no boss business. In fact, if someone would just pay me NOT to work for a live person I’d be all set because I can seriously handle chair swinging, playing games, chatting online and sitting with my feet on the desk all day, every day. No, I can! It’s dirty work but someone has to do it, so you all don’t have to. I hope you remember that at Christmas time and compensate me accordingly.

One thing I am not enjoying is the daily slew of needy Uberlord emails asking me to arrange future trips for which, as usual, he sends no real details, his asking me to schedule hair appointments, have cars pick up his wife and have a minion clad with a silk sponge to wipe his arse upon his return. I mean I am NOT HERE TO WORK, Uberlord, are you delusional? This is supposed to be two weeks of you-free time where I get to relax and create mayhem. You are eating into my me-time. Do I call you in Europe every day asking you to send me croissants? No!

I’m having weird memory issues today. I found some stuff I did yesterday (?) and have no recollection of completing, but it is complete therefore, I must’ve been half asleep and under the impression I was supposed to work. I was quite clearly insane at the time (working when the UL is away? Please.) I was almost as confused as the time at my old job when I switched around several of the keys on Mr. Panty Waist’s keyboard after suffering a stupendously unreasonable day with the giant tool. The old assmuncher was in a state of flux for weeks, trying to email people using & instead of @.

Damn, it was awesome.

The Guv’ner Is A Touch Delirious

I woke up this morning still tired. Had a nice, long, therapeutic stretch. Briefly thought, “Wow it’s pretty sunny out there today, I don’t normally get the sun in here so early!”, sat up, glanced at cell phone that I use as a clock, stretched some more, in a dopey, retarded manner, then gasped and did that huge double take thing, like say you’d just noticed your waiter for the evening was Elvis. You know Elvis? The dead guy with the swivelling pelvis that put the devil of lust into the hearts of 1950s’ teens everywhere?

I leaped out of bed like I was being chased by a fire-breathing dragon. “How can it be TEN O’CLOCK???” I yelled to the cat, who knows a potentially volatile situation when she sees it and therefore went into a sort of Def Con emergency mode and fled under the bed.

I would like to say my alarm didn’t bother going off, however as I use my phone as an alarm and I woke up clutching it in my sweaty palm, I’d wager it probably did and I decided to deactivate its noisy ass and go back to sleep. Jesus.

At least there’s no Uberlord around this week to know. I am, however, dopey as all hell, feel like I have a major hangover and when I called British Airways upon arrival at work to ask for some information for my less Uberlordian boss, I hung up and realized I didn’t understand a single thing they said and had to call them back to ask them again. Oops. This calls for a flow chart:I think the moral here is, “When the Uberlord is away, The Guv’ner will return to a state of undisciplined chaos”. And yes, I realize that “undisciplined” in that sentence is redundant, but I’m a grammar rebel so if you don’t like it….well you can just come here and say that.

Free To Do What I Want, Any Old Time

There’s this joyous reverie when one wakes up and realizes that two weeks of Uberlord-free mayhem awaits them in the workplace. I mean it’s like running in several directions at once. What is a person to do first? I’m all giddy with excitement.

- Arrive late with a giant bedraggled bedhead and put my feet on the desk? (ha ha, this doesn’t count because I do this every day)

- Play loud music while drinking coffee and playing Spider Solitaire (Four Suits – you ain’t dealing with no amateur, foe)?

- Grin at people in a most demonic and (un?)customary manner until someone calls security?

- Make prank calls?

- Blog?

- Make copious amounts of Pie charts about trivial nonsense because why should today be any different?

- Nap on couch (again)?

The world is my oyster for the next couple of weeks and if there’s a pearl in it anywhere I aim to find it. For example what does the Uberlord keep in all those cabinets of mystery in his office? Top shelf liquor? A revolver? A ball gag? His Penthouse collection? I’m going to find out!

There is also a pretty fair chance I am going to play racquet ball in there with a whiffle ball set while commentating out loud to imaginary TV audiences about my superior racquet skills as the ball bounces off his $500 framed golfing photo.

Today’s Announcement

I’ve spent a delicious morning being stabbed in the kishkas by little Jezebels with pitchforks and making 20 pages of hand-scrawled-by-a-baboon psychobabble into a PowerPoint presentation.

I think you all know my affinity for PowerPoint by now, although usually I prefer to use it in a decidedly non-corporate manner (yes really!). One thing has been bothering me today however, and feel free to fill me in on the answer to this mystery so I can dutifully ignore you, because I actually don’t care:

I have no freaking idea what you do with them so I choose to ignore them and move on with my life and I suggest you do similar.

There was no point at all to this entry but I dedicate it to Gnugs for making me feel guilty about not posting and making the world a better all round place. Thanks Gnugs.

I hope you all have a splendiferous weekend filled with….cake?

The Guv’ner Debates

A Tuesday Conundrum for you:

Again, clicky for large version if you’re blind

I’m sleepy. Did anyone get that?