The @-Work Nettwerk
Mundane Tasks and Capitalist Pig-Dog Commands
Today's Installment is in response to Andy Myatt's suggestion that we have
positive @-work nettwerk to show that we aren't all trapped in a sad abyss
of post-graduate drudgery. The question was posed, "What do you like about
In response to your responses: OKAY, OKAY, FINE! I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE
POSITIVE FOR ONCE. You have reaffirmed my faith in cynicism.
Today's Golden Cubicle Award Goes to Bradley Sroka, who writes:
*Things I like about my job? I don't like my job. *
I like it when I have to make big stacks of copies, and then when you take
them off the tray and they're all done, they're really nice and warm. But
then it makes me sad to think that all these trees are dying just for
these useless booklets that no one reads. but then, after that, I get to
use the binding machine and that's kind of fun because I feel like I work
in a factory in the 50's or something (that's how old this thing looks)
and I imagine all this great 50's educational documentary music playing in
the background. (doo doo doo dee doo doo doo doo...) "and that's how your
meeting booklets are made, boy and girls! so next time you are at a
meeting, enjoying your booklet, just remember all the hard-working men and
women that made it possible!" (...doo doo doo dee doo doo doo doo doo...)
"and it was all done right here in the great U.S. of A!"
One thing I like about my job is that all the television I now watch as a
direct result of work-related intellectual atrophy gives me a better
understanding of what constitutes entertainment for the masses. Let them
watch "Friends," she said...
I may not like my job, but today my supervisor growled and barked at
people as he walked, then told me to stop following him. I like that; it's
If Y2K Kills People, I Hope It Kills
An important announcement from the ubermensch: In response to
overwhelming citizen outcry (we are a democracy here at the nettwerk) I
have come to realize that I probably should have given the Golden Cubicle
Award to Elizabeth Botten two issues ago, but I was trying to balance long
entries with short entries and so it was strategically places elsewhere.
Now, for those who STILL cry for Vanessa Williams and the 1984 Miss
America Pagent Tragedy, don9t weep for Jenny Jones: She will retain her
prize. Today, however, here and now, I humbly reprint Elizabeth Botten9s
entry, and declare the first ever "Retroactive Co-Golden Cubicle Award"
*The Christmas decorations have gone up, the Secret Santa names have been
chosen, and the office is a buzz with holiday cheer. The primary task at
hand now is planning for the upcoming Christmas party. However, since the
eggnog will not be spiked I don't think there will be another moment like
the one that occured at a recent going away party: Ms. X walked into the
conference room, took one look at the platter of feta cheese and said, no
joke, "That looks like my yeast infection." When Ms. Y said, "What!?!" Ms.
Z--whose primary language, it should be pointed out, is not English, and
who has not grasped some of the finer points of American idomatic
expressions--said, "Ms. X has a pussy problem."*
Today's Golden Cubicle Award Goes To Ms. Elizabeth Ann Rose, of Seattle,
Washington, who may or may not have been raised up in Compton:
**I had to go into the buildings next door to my office -- a laundromat
and a parole office -- because someone parked in the lot we share had left
their headlights on. The parole office was rather nice. It was the
laundromat that creeped me out. There was a man standing in his shirt
with no pants or underwear on - doing his wash. I guess he really ran out
of stuff to wear this morning.**
I often go outside on break to have a cigarette and stand in the sun,
enjoying the limited daylight that a Minnesota winter allows. Today, I
looked up at the sun and just thought the dumbest thing: "Hey, neat, the
sun is full."
For all the lady @werkers:
Today my pregnant co-worker Thao asked me if I would be her partner for
her labor/birthing class. Apparently, her husband claims not to have
Yesterday, my bus was late. I stood and waited for it. The painful irony
here is that it does not do the same for me.
This will likely be meaningless to anyone who does not work in accounting
- please bear with me: I HATE INTRA-INSTITUTIONAL BILLING! I HATE
INTRA-INSTITUTIONAL BILLING! I HATE INTRA-INSTITUTIONAL BILLING! I HATE
INTRA-INSTITUTIONAL BILLING! I HATE INTRA-INSTITUTIONAL BILLING! Thank
you for your patience.
My office building has three floors. I got on the elevator at the second
floor but I was only going up to the third floor. There was someone else
on the elevator when I got on. I started thinking about how lazy I must
have appeared, taking the elevator when I was only going one floor. So,
when we got off at the third floor I tragically limped away, as if I were
I was driving past the community bank yesterday and their public service
sign (the kind with movable type) said, "Buckle up or eat ass."
Does anyone else ever notice how in public bathrooms, there is often a
collection of toilet paper circling the toilet, as if a previous occupant
collected items from their environment (i.e. toilet paper, hand soap,
paper towels) to build a nest in the stall, but left it to find a more
suitable home? Pretty weird.
Oh shit. I just remembered that it's not my job to surf the web all day.
I have like two weeks of work to account for. I don't think they'll like
honesty in this situation. I know I wouldn't. This is what they get for
teaching us to bullshit instead of how to be productive people during our
college years. Since I work in a university, it's actually their fault,
not mine. I feel better now. Oh yeah, they also taught us how to
I like the kids at my work. They are a never ending source of amusement
for me. Last week, one of my students set his eyebrows on fire during my
class. He was trying to make the flame on his lighter really tall, but it
wasn't lighting, so he bent over it to look inside to see what was wrong,
tried to light it... and singed his eyebrows and a few hairs.
I've been wanting to send in this movie, and I finally found it. Pretty
much sums it all up I think:
One really cool thing about working with a bunch of hoodies is that I am
privy to all of the latest gangsta lingo. Some of my favorites:
Hella - adj. a lot, really, very, "hell of a": Damn, yo these kids
hella short. There hella people livin'in New York.
Trippin - v. talkin' shit, out of your mind, off your rocker, you
You're hella trippin' if you think I"m gonna pick dat up, yo.
Tight - adj. cool, hip. Man, that movie is tight.
I just sent my hoodies virtual crack. I hope I don't get fired.
So, uhm, if you wave a large knife at a coworker one morning, and later
tell him to put his headphones on and stop laughing at you... but do this
in a purely GOOD NATURED and LIGHT HEARTED way... what does that mean?
I came up with another brilliant performance art piece. Today I began
referring to my cubicle as my "cell" and will pick up prison fatigues, the
black and white striped ones, to don each and every day at work. I figure,
it's lame but at least it gives me something interesting to do. I think
I'd rather break rocks than enter data, anyway.
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Nettwerk : Cubicle85@hotmail.com
Elizabeth Rose : email@example.com