The @-Work Nettwerk
Mundane Tasks and Capitalist Pig-Dog Commands
More Fabulous Even Than Cher,Which is
Pretty Hard to Do
The "Golden Cubicle Award" goes to the Current Winston Cup Circuit Points
Leader (sorry, obscure auto racing reference), Ms. L, who today
shares with us the existential torment of the cube:
Sometimes I think about "accidentally" dumping some scalding hot coffee
over my hand so I won't have to type anymore.
[Ben took a vacation and] instead of doing the @-work nettwerk, I was
running around wearing a potato costume and mooing like a cow. It will
never happen again, I promise. Vacation, however, was grand. Also, a
website recommendation: www.virtualcrack.com
My boss is in Paris this week. I think in honor of her, I will eat
croissants and drink outrageous amounts of wine all week. When she comes
back, she'll find a smelly, drunk, dirty offensive drunk temp that makes
lewd comments to anything that moves with a deep appreciation of french
pastries. I'm sure she'll appreciate that.
My brother put a piece of cheese on the Xerox machine at his high school,
and gave me the photocopy. I just realized, duh, there's a copier right
down the hall; I could photocopy some cheese too. This is a metaphor.
Figure it out, you daft bastards.
I saw a really good-looking guy on the Metro this morning--which I only
mention because it is such a rarity. I wanted to shout, "Hey you, in the
Old Navy Tech Vest," but modesty and shyness made me hold back. Maybe
The admissions office put on a promotional circus called "Campus Preview
Day" last Saturday. I was a "building runner" and a "human sign." When I
arrived I was assigned to the registration desk. I ate donuts and took
three cans of root beer with Buffy pictured on the side. A woman remarked
how we were all wearing the same maroon sweatshirt behind the
registration desk. "Yes," joked my coworker, "that's because we all shop
at the same store!" I don't know what the hell he's talking about, I got
mine free at
work. I was tired at the end of the day and took a nap when I got home.
I got a fortune today on my lunch break that reads, "creativity is your
ace in the hole." I'm thinking of pasting it to my nipple and calling it
performance art, but that may be in poor taste.
Today I had to make a bunch of copies. The toner was low, so I went to the
other copier, and the toner was low there, too. I hate it when
that happens. So, I had to put more toner in, and I ended up getting
toner underneath my fingernails. What a pain in the ass.
And finally, a submission reminding us of just how IMPORTANT the @-work
nettwerk is in our lives:
Oh help me. I am so bored. I will not sit here any longer. Someone burnt
popcorn in the office microwave and the fumes are suffocating. Please
entertain me. Please send me some more @-Work Nettwerk stuff.
HABEN ALLE NUTZER
The "Golden Cubicle Award" Goes to Jenny Jones this week, in honor of
@-work desperation that has obviously reached a new low:
**My boss walked in my cubicle while I was sniffing white-out.**
I've decided that a good way to mask the fact that I don't do shit at work
is to ask a lot of questions. They're sure to think that I'm constantly
working that way.
I was walking back from lunch along Connecticut Avenue when a man standing
on a street corner pointed at me and yelled to the woman beside him that I
was working for the Cuban Government, which I was unaware of at the time.
Everyone in my office seems to be under the impression that I am smart and
responsible. My plan is coming together nicely. . .
Riding the Metro during the evening commute I often have a driver who says
things such as. . ."Say goodbye to Anthony Williams and hello to Parris
Glendenning as we pull into Silver Spring, our first station in Maryland."
Well, last night as we approached Union Station he cooed, "This is Union
Station. Connect to MARC Rail, Amtrak, or just shop. . . .shop 'till you
drop because you deserve it. . .because you're special." Isn't it
touching to know that someone thinks you are special?!?!?!?!
I have an assistant now, so I can't surf the internet or play with myself
in the bathroom anymore.
In the wake of our guest-residency flurry, things have reduced themselves
to a dull throb here. My next project is a couple of
performance/theoretical pieces with the transgendering spouse of a
colleague, who performs naked. In a moment of humdrum idleness on Sunday,
I decided to prickle over her titling of one of the pieces
("proliferation") because the word has too much ugly baggage associated
with nuclear and capitalist agendas. But she has assured me that sex and
gender are not the only targets of our piece and
that one of her other selves, either J. Che' Poor-Cunt or Dick Head (a
male persona based on her former life as a nuclear engineer), would be
attacking precisely those issues.
Today I hung a picture of my boyfriend over my computer.
Well. . .the bathroom lady is back! Over the summer, a co-worker was, you
know, doing her thing in the bathroom and she noticed a pair of feet in
her stall. Now it is not just that a stray foot was creeping over into
this person's personal space, but that BOTH feet were facing into her
stall, near the toilet. To accomplish this, this "person" would have to
have her faced pressed up against the wall of the stall (hey! a rhyme).
Not only that, but she was in there for quite a while. We debated heavily
as to how we should handle this situation. Should we call someone, should
we go talk to her (assuming she was sick, and not just in the head if you
know what I mean)? We just let it go and eventually she left. The
"victim" who noticed these stray feet did point out that this woman was
wearing sandals and had very nice feet. Nothing else was said about this
for two months until this past week when the feet were noticed again.
Still in the same position, and I believe the same stall, but now crossed.
We concluded that there are lots (and I do mean LOTS) of weird people in
our building and that was that.
I took three days off of work so that I could run around in a field with a
big potato on my head. I also did some drugs.
I received the following e-mail at work yesterday. I think it speaks for
itself. . . . . . . .
Subject: Mitmachen bei einem Pornofilm??
ERSTKLASSIGE PROFI-PORNOPRODUKTION! TOP VERDIENST! Wir suchen DARSTELLER
DARSTELLERINNEN fuer unsere Filmproduktion! Waehlen Sie:
Schonmal darueber nachgedacht was Sie eigentlich von Werbung haben? Durch
Werbung fliessen mehr Umsaetze in das Internet.Das bringt NEUE und BESSERE
Programme, Informationen und Services. Mehr Unterhaltung, Entertainment
Spass! Und: Das sichert Arbeitsplaetze! MIT WERBUNG HABEN ALLE NUTZER
MEHR VOM INTERNET!
Nettwerk : Cubicle85@hotmail.com
Elizabeth Rose : email@example.com