I've been thinking lately about how important it is to have a nice pen. Not very. I have pondered this quite some time. As I have met with many powerful and influential people over the years, I have taken note of the pens they use. I have also met with many non-essential humans, such as those whom I would interview for various low-level positions here at Crock, Inc. As I reflect on this matter, I have found that the niceness of one's pen is inversely proportional to one's status in life.
Many times, when I meet with the powerful and influential, I see that they carry a standard Bic 2360 Model click pen, a Scripto 1400 capped ball-point, or other equivalent model. Blue or black ink, it's about 50-50. Sometimes they don't bring a pen at all.
When interviewing candidates for common-folk type positions within this company, I find that they always bring their own pen. Nine times out of ten it's black ink. These things are usually very shiny silver with special grips and explosion-proof technology. I find that interesting.
Did you know that some of the richest people in the world carry handkerchiefs? This is weird. They actually blow their nose on a piece of cloth and then stuff it, snot and all, right back in their pockets. In this case, I wonder why they have ruled out the sleeve option. At least then, when the inter-pocket mingling happens, they wouldn't get snot on their cheap pens. I think that's why the commoners go with the sleeve, you know, because of the fancy pens.
I was also thinking that paper clips are funny. Somewhere, someone owns a business making these things. And staples! What about those? Imagine making staples for a living. I think a paperclip is just a less-permanent staple.
The other day I was talking with our rubber band sales guy and I found out something interesting; Did you know that the average commission on a rubber-band is half a cent per 100,000 units? I'm no mathematician, but how much do you think he takes home per year after taxes? I can't figure it out.
Someone needs to invent something to stop this fan from blowing the papers off of my desk.
I have a friend who's Unlce invented the little plastic tube things that they put on the end of shoelaces. He's a multi-millionaire and he writes with half of a broken crayon, light green.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Accountant Eaten by Spreadsheet!!
I tried to warn him but he wouldn't listen. I told him that I make a mean spreadsheet. He insisted that the only way he could prepare my taxes this year was for me to send him the information in a spreadsheet.
Now, he's gone forever. Taken by the meanest spreadsheet ever created. As we mourn the loss of our corporate accountant, Wendell C. Ventriliquismith, we remember the good times. We recall how his face used to light up when he talked about numbers. We remember how he used to run out of his office at 12:01am April 16th and down a gallon of Chivas Regal, bust the bottle over his head and pass out for six weeks. We're gonna miss that.
Now, for what got him. It was a thing of beauty. 134657 rows. 27842 columns. Color coded. Massive overlapping formulas and interlocking tables. Hidden data. Elaborate marcos with thought translation which enabled the user to think of data and it would instantly appear in the proper fields. I embedded an application that doubles as an electric razor and another that seizes the building environmental control system and matches the weather inside with the weather outside (it rained in Wendell's office yesterday). I even included an earth-friendly feature that turns Carbon Dioxide into bubblegum for the kids. It made time travel possible. My favorite was the formatting of the cells in row 90443. That's the one where dollar signs look like little snakes that whistle the tune of "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. But that's not what got our buddy Wendell. Apparently he tried to copy and paste within the spreadsheet, which is a big no-no. It briefly altered the fabric of space and time, creating a tiny tear in the universe just long enough to vacuum poor Wendell from his ergonomically-designed accounting chair and into the void forever.
While we're saddened by the parting of our wonderful bean-counter, we cannot prove that he is actually dead and he was volunteering to do my taxes so this is not considered a work-related death. Therefore we do not have to reset the "Days Without a Work-related Death" scoreboard. It will remain at 21. If we make it through today, it will be a new company record of 22 consecutive days without a work-related death. Congratulations everyone!
BTW - we now have an opening in the accounting department.
Now, he's gone forever. Taken by the meanest spreadsheet ever created. As we mourn the loss of our corporate accountant, Wendell C. Ventriliquismith, we remember the good times. We recall how his face used to light up when he talked about numbers. We remember how he used to run out of his office at 12:01am April 16th and down a gallon of Chivas Regal, bust the bottle over his head and pass out for six weeks. We're gonna miss that.
Now, for what got him. It was a thing of beauty. 134657 rows. 27842 columns. Color coded. Massive overlapping formulas and interlocking tables. Hidden data. Elaborate marcos with thought translation which enabled the user to think of data and it would instantly appear in the proper fields. I embedded an application that doubles as an electric razor and another that seizes the building environmental control system and matches the weather inside with the weather outside (it rained in Wendell's office yesterday). I even included an earth-friendly feature that turns Carbon Dioxide into bubblegum for the kids. It made time travel possible. My favorite was the formatting of the cells in row 90443. That's the one where dollar signs look like little snakes that whistle the tune of "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. But that's not what got our buddy Wendell. Apparently he tried to copy and paste within the spreadsheet, which is a big no-no. It briefly altered the fabric of space and time, creating a tiny tear in the universe just long enough to vacuum poor Wendell from his ergonomically-designed accounting chair and into the void forever.
While we're saddened by the parting of our wonderful bean-counter, we cannot prove that he is actually dead and he was volunteering to do my taxes so this is not considered a work-related death. Therefore we do not have to reset the "Days Without a Work-related Death" scoreboard. It will remain at 21. If we make it through today, it will be a new company record of 22 consecutive days without a work-related death. Congratulations everyone!
BTW - we now have an opening in the accounting department.
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