It’s possible the recording industry will figure out a way to make downloading copyrighted material impossible once-and-for-all, eventually.
But, it’s unlikely, and it’s less likely that it will happen within the next ten to fifteen years.
So. What are you going to tell your kids about downloading pirated music?
We didn’t grow up with this question. Our parents aren’t savvy enough to search and download the hottest tracks or live cuts from their favorite artists. They don’t know what “file-sharing” means, they’ve never heard of “ftp,” and they probably don’t need to download songs anyway, because they’re still struggling with the switch from vinyl to CD.
But I know these things. I can rip tracks from a CD and distribute them to millions if I so choose. I have the ability. I also have the ability to download music, or video, for free, and by so downloading, committing a crime(?).
So what do you tell your kids?
“Stealing is wrong…except the new Weezer cd, I love them, but I’m not paying twenty-bucks for twelve tracks.”
“Don’t take what doesn’t belong to you…but it’s ok if someone else took it and then let you have it for free.”
“Shoplifting is a crime…but you can sit here at the computer in the study and take whatever you want.”
Hypocrisy. This is worse than “Do as I say, not as I do,” because I’m not really sure I’d say “don’t download.”
What is right and what is wrong? I can’t even commit in writing to which side of the argument I believe in. But I have no trouble acting on the unvoiced beliefs.
Quite the dilemma.
-t
Monday, January 30, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
Web log 2.0?
This site needs a redesign. I mean, this site really needs a redesign.
There are a lot of nice looking webpages out there, and this isn’t one of them. And, while I’d like to think people come to read the content, I’m just not seeing the traffic I’d like.
So, rather than focusing on revamping the writing, which I’ll do, sure, I think I need to start focusing on revamping the look.
Pictures, for one. This space needs some pictures. Big ones. Of me. Honestly, what else would you want to see here? Me me me me me. And maybe some nice pictures of office supplies, cute puppies, and icebergs.
Colors! But not too many. Colors to highlight. You can’t read black text on colored backgrounds without causing a brain aneurysm (espn.com Page 2), so that’s out. Black on white, black on shades of grey, or white on black. Really the only way to go. Also, sometimes orange on black.
No pink. No fuscia.
New sections. Some on the right, some on the left. Some at the end of the page.
Archives, maybe, searchable archives, listed by title or subject instead of date.
I figure I’ll need about four days of uninterrupted time to figure this all out.
Unfortunately I don’t have four days of uninterrupted time available, and would probably get fired if I asked for a leave of absence to update my blog.
HA.
Maybe instead of redesigning the webpage I can start designing a time machine, travel back to freshman year of college, and convince my seventeen year old self to study web design from the start, instead of math.
I love math, but not the way a math major should love math, and let me tell you, that is no way for a regular person to love math.
Because the only design I know is html, and barely that. Maybe it’s a good thing. If I knew other languages, I’d be saying intolerable things like “I’m designing the new site in Java – javajavajavajavajavajava.”
Web design. Maybe I’ll buy a book.
And then rent server space.
And then try and learn something.
And then write it. And test it.
And then quit my job and become a starving web artist and move to Bohemia. (That’s a real place, right?)
Here’s hoping.
-t
There are a lot of nice looking webpages out there, and this isn’t one of them. And, while I’d like to think people come to read the content, I’m just not seeing the traffic I’d like.
So, rather than focusing on revamping the writing, which I’ll do, sure, I think I need to start focusing on revamping the look.
Pictures, for one. This space needs some pictures. Big ones. Of me. Honestly, what else would you want to see here? Me me me me me. And maybe some nice pictures of office supplies, cute puppies, and icebergs.
Colors! But not too many. Colors to highlight. You can’t read black text on colored backgrounds without causing a brain aneurysm (espn.com Page 2), so that’s out. Black on white, black on shades of grey, or white on black. Really the only way to go. Also, sometimes orange on black.
No pink. No fuscia.
New sections. Some on the right, some on the left. Some at the end of the page.
Archives, maybe, searchable archives, listed by title or subject instead of date.
I figure I’ll need about four days of uninterrupted time to figure this all out.
Unfortunately I don’t have four days of uninterrupted time available, and would probably get fired if I asked for a leave of absence to update my blog.
HA.
Maybe instead of redesigning the webpage I can start designing a time machine, travel back to freshman year of college, and convince my seventeen year old self to study web design from the start, instead of math.
I love math, but not the way a math major should love math, and let me tell you, that is no way for a regular person to love math.
Because the only design I know is html, and barely that. Maybe it’s a good thing. If I knew other languages, I’d be saying intolerable things like “I’m designing the new site in Java – javajavajavajavajavajava.”
Web design. Maybe I’ll buy a book.
And then rent server space.
And then try and learn something.
And then write it. And test it.
And then quit my job and become a starving web artist and move to Bohemia. (That’s a real place, right?)
Here’s hoping.
-t
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Comic Book
I’ve been using Comic Sans for a little while now, and just this morning I thought I’d write a post about it, maybe an origins post or something.
Which is why I was pretty pleased to find this link today!
Coincidence? Yes.
-t
Which is why I was pretty pleased to find this link today!
Coincidence? Yes.
-t
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
A Very Merry Un-Birthday To Me
Two hundred and eighty-two. That is the number of months it has been since I was born. That seems like an awfully long time.
In years: twenty-three and one half years.
Today is my half-birthday.
I don’t know how to celebrate. I probably won’t go out and get drunk, I probably won’t stay in and get drunk. Maybe I’ll play some video games when I get home. Maybe a small toast to the months that have come before.
Shout out to everyone else who is celebrating an un-birthday today too.
Cheers,
Tom
In years: twenty-three and one half years.
Today is my half-birthday.
I don’t know how to celebrate. I probably won’t go out and get drunk, I probably won’t stay in and get drunk. Maybe I’ll play some video games when I get home. Maybe a small toast to the months that have come before.
Shout out to everyone else who is celebrating an un-birthday today too.
Cheers,
Tom
Monday, January 23, 2006
Learning things at work
Today at work, after ranting and raving about stupid people I took some time to cruise the world wide web.
I learned how to pick locks!
Online tutorials are awesome.
Anyway, I just wanted all of you to know you are no longer safe in your own homes!
BWAHAHAHAHAHA
-t
I learned how to pick locks!
Online tutorials are awesome.
Anyway, I just wanted all of you to know you are no longer safe in your own homes!
BWAHAHAHAHAHA
-t
Ranting. Because I don't do that nearly as much as I should, not nearly enough...
I hate them because they’re morons, and because they do not have any quality that makes me not hate them.
For example, if I had a moronic family member, I would not hate them. The familial bond would lead, instead, to a desire to teach them, to help them understand. This would also work if we played on the same sports team, if they had a cute sister, or if we’d fought in a war together.
None of these people are family.
They do not understand, or, they do not choose to appreciate causal relationships. They say things like “My fund doesn’t want to tie out.”
FUNDS DO NOT HAVE DESIRES. They do not express emotions, they are not conscious. “My computer doesn’t want to work.” WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. Computers do not get “temperamental”,” it’s probably just dust.
Simple equations. This is sixth grade math. Securities accrue at a given rate for a given time period. A times B divided by C. “I can’t find the rate for today, if I just use yesterday’s rate, does it matter?” OF COURSE IT MATTERS YOU DOPE. Sixth grade math.
I would teach sixth graders. I would probably enjoy teaching six graders. They have an excuse. They’re kids. Kids are stupid. That’s their default.
But these morons that I work with have GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE. I do not understand how. They do not have an excuse. College graduates with a major in ECONOMICS should be able to handle sixth grade math.
Percentages. Hey, what’s the interest earned, per day, on a million shares fixed at three percent over three hundred sixty-five days?
DOES THAT SOUND TOO COMPLICATED FOR A COLLEGE GRADUATE? They have freaking calculators on their desks, and on their operating systems, there’s a great program we use here called EXCEL for crying out loud, ONE OF THEM EVEN HAS A DIGITAL CALCULATOR WATCH.
By the way that’s $82.19 a day in interest.
How are you able to argue the merits of communism versus the merits of capitalism AND NOT BE ABLE TO MULTIPLY.
Am I way out of line here? No. Is it totally unreasonable to expect college graduates to be able to perform at least as well as your average sixth grader? No. Trained monkeys could do this job.
Now, could I train the monkeys to do the job? No. Because I’m not a monkey trainer. BUT THAT IS WHAT THIS JOB IS NOW.
Hypermanager: “If you accrue your fund Friday how many days is that?”
The stupid kid: “One?”
Hypermanager: “Yes, very good. Now you accrue your fund through Saturday and Sunday, how many more days is that?”
The stupid kid: “…, …,”
Hypermanager: “How many days?”
The stupid kid: “Well, I guess I don’t have the correct answer.”
THE ANSWER IS TWO YOU MORON.
This isn’t hyperbole. This is not exaggeration. THAT EXCHANGE ACTUALLY TOOK PLACE THIS MORNING NEXT TO MY CUBICLE.
I’m afraid. I’m afraid to get a new job. What if it’s worse out there?
I hate being the smartest guy in the room.
-t
For example, if I had a moronic family member, I would not hate them. The familial bond would lead, instead, to a desire to teach them, to help them understand. This would also work if we played on the same sports team, if they had a cute sister, or if we’d fought in a war together.
None of these people are family.
They do not understand, or, they do not choose to appreciate causal relationships. They say things like “My fund doesn’t want to tie out.”
FUNDS DO NOT HAVE DESIRES. They do not express emotions, they are not conscious. “My computer doesn’t want to work.” WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. Computers do not get “temperamental”,” it’s probably just dust.
Simple equations. This is sixth grade math. Securities accrue at a given rate for a given time period. A times B divided by C. “I can’t find the rate for today, if I just use yesterday’s rate, does it matter?” OF COURSE IT MATTERS YOU DOPE. Sixth grade math.
I would teach sixth graders. I would probably enjoy teaching six graders. They have an excuse. They’re kids. Kids are stupid. That’s their default.
But these morons that I work with have GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE. I do not understand how. They do not have an excuse. College graduates with a major in ECONOMICS should be able to handle sixth grade math.
Percentages. Hey, what’s the interest earned, per day, on a million shares fixed at three percent over three hundred sixty-five days?
DOES THAT SOUND TOO COMPLICATED FOR A COLLEGE GRADUATE? They have freaking calculators on their desks, and on their operating systems, there’s a great program we use here called EXCEL for crying out loud, ONE OF THEM EVEN HAS A DIGITAL CALCULATOR WATCH.
By the way that’s $82.19 a day in interest.
How are you able to argue the merits of communism versus the merits of capitalism AND NOT BE ABLE TO MULTIPLY.
Am I way out of line here? No. Is it totally unreasonable to expect college graduates to be able to perform at least as well as your average sixth grader? No. Trained monkeys could do this job.
Now, could I train the monkeys to do the job? No. Because I’m not a monkey trainer. BUT THAT IS WHAT THIS JOB IS NOW.
Hypermanager: “If you accrue your fund Friday how many days is that?”
The stupid kid: “One?”
Hypermanager: “Yes, very good. Now you accrue your fund through Saturday and Sunday, how many more days is that?”
The stupid kid: “…, …,”
Hypermanager: “How many days?”
The stupid kid: “Well, I guess I don’t have the correct answer.”
THE ANSWER IS TWO YOU MORON.
This isn’t hyperbole. This is not exaggeration. THAT EXCHANGE ACTUALLY TOOK PLACE THIS MORNING NEXT TO MY CUBICLE.
I’m afraid. I’m afraid to get a new job. What if it’s worse out there?
I hate being the smartest guy in the room.
-t
I'm trying to strangle myself with my phone cord right now
Hey, I have a good idea. Let’s talk to our coworkers about the weather. That sounds fun and interesting and new. I’m sure it’s not a living breathing annoying cliché. No, in fact, I’m sure that my coworkers actually look forward to coming in Monday morning to discuss local precipitation amounts and how they compare to the national or local historical average. Maybe after we talk a little about the weather we can share stories about how the weather affected or didn’t affect our commute. That’s even more interesting than the weather itself. Gosh, I bet the only thing that would make this Monday morning more fun would be a discussion of old Seinfeld episodes. I might just burst from the happiness.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Bada-um Bump
Third post of the day.
I think I’m having heart palpitations.
It’s probably a physiologic response to boredom. You know, anything to keep things interesting.
-t
I think I’m having heart palpitations.
It’s probably a physiologic response to boredom. You know, anything to keep things interesting.
-t
All about my boss
Bonus follow-up post: Two items
1. An excerpt from the corporate policy regarding use of instant messenger:
“Any unauthorized use of Instant Messenger Services during business hours will be considered a violation of the aforementioned policies and will be subject to appropriate disciplinary action.”
2. The AVP should get a nickname. You know those guys that walk up to you and start squeezing your shoulder? “Hi [squeeze], how’s it going? [squeeze] You doin’ ok? [squeeze]”
First of all, I hate that. If I can literally reach out and touch you, YOU ARE STANDING TOO CLOSE. Second of all, stop squeezing my shoulder I’m not going to make out with you.
Anyway, the AVP, thankfully, does not do the whole squeeze-bit, but he’s got the rest of that personality wrapped up like a drum.
Also, he dips. As in “I’m going to pack a lip.” As in “I’m going to go purchase a tin of loose tobacco, then cram a fistful of it into my mouth between my lower lip and gum, then suck on it and spit tobacco juice into an empty water bottle I carry around for that very purpose.” Dipping is not only carcinogenic, it’s also disgusting.
Anyway, he needs a nickname. I’m leaning toward Dippy but that just makes him sound dumb, and he’s not, he knows his mutual funds, and is sort of a dick. I wouldn’t be averse to a nickname incorporating “dip” like “AVP Dipwad,” but I’m sure there are some other good choices.
So please submit any catchy/funny/scathing nickname possibilities in the comments section that may or may not include references to “dip” “arrogance” or AVP.
KT, you’re usually pretty mean, why not direct some ire toward the Arrogant Associate Vice President instead of the quality of my posts this time, eh? Donny, I’m counting on you to step up here too. Let’s go readers!
-t
1. An excerpt from the corporate policy regarding use of instant messenger:
“Any unauthorized use of Instant Messenger Services during business hours will be considered a violation of the aforementioned policies and will be subject to appropriate disciplinary action.”
2. The AVP should get a nickname. You know those guys that walk up to you and start squeezing your shoulder? “Hi [squeeze], how’s it going? [squeeze] You doin’ ok? [squeeze]”
First of all, I hate that. If I can literally reach out and touch you, YOU ARE STANDING TOO CLOSE. Second of all, stop squeezing my shoulder I’m not going to make out with you.
Anyway, the AVP, thankfully, does not do the whole squeeze-bit, but he’s got the rest of that personality wrapped up like a drum.
Also, he dips. As in “I’m going to pack a lip.” As in “I’m going to go purchase a tin of loose tobacco, then cram a fistful of it into my mouth between my lower lip and gum, then suck on it and spit tobacco juice into an empty water bottle I carry around for that very purpose.” Dipping is not only carcinogenic, it’s also disgusting.
Anyway, he needs a nickname. I’m leaning toward Dippy but that just makes him sound dumb, and he’s not, he knows his mutual funds, and is sort of a dick. I wouldn’t be averse to a nickname incorporating “dip” like “AVP Dipwad,” but I’m sure there are some other good choices.
So please submit any catchy/funny/scathing nickname possibilities in the comments section that may or may not include references to “dip” “arrogance” or AVP.
KT, you’re usually pretty mean, why not direct some ire toward the Arrogant Associate Vice President instead of the quality of my posts this time, eh? Donny, I’m counting on you to step up here too. Let’s go readers!
-t
Under the bus
Last week I overheard a conversation the stupid kid was having with the AVP and I can’t remember if I wrote about it. So I’m writing about it now.
There are some here, in management, who frown on employee use of instant messenger and the internet. Some feel that the resources of the world wide web should be used for business purposes and only business purposes. Our AVP has adopted this as a personal crusade. He is out to catch you online, and put a stop to it. No more reading the fantasy football reviews on espn.com. No more cruising blogs. And heaven help you if an IM window should pop open when he is within fifty feet of your desk.
He was the first to catch me online, way back in the day (I’d left my computer on and unlocked one day at lunch with AIM still running). He came down pretty hard on hypermanager, who in turn came down pretty hard on me (prompting this post).
Since then I’ve been super covert with my internet usage…ok, not super covert, but I remember to lock my computer when I leave my desk. I haven’t heard anything about too much time online though, because management has had their hands full with stupid kid.
He’s online all day. News sites mostly, also AIM (though I think his buddy list is as empty as his “friends” group on thefacebook). Hypermanager and AVP have both commented, numerous times, about the lack of attention he pays to his funds and the copious amount of time he spends online.
Last week, just before the move, I overheard the AVP talking to the stupid kid. AVP had circumspectly brought up internet usage and its detrimental effect on the detail-oriented work we do here. The AVP then not-so-subtly suggested that the stupid kid knock that shit off and pay attention to his job instead of wasting time online.
And the stupid kid responded conversationally by telling the AVP that he’s seen me online all the time, “Some people use instant messenger all day long. Tom does it.”
What the hell?
First of all, the AVP knows it. He’s already caught me, and every once-in-a-while casually mentions excessive time online: “Hey, some groups think it’s ok, but that’s just not how I feel. That’s not how I interpret the corporate policy. I don’t want my group run that way.”
But that’s as far as it goes. He knows it’s my decision, and I know if it ever interferes with my work I’ll be shown the door. We’ve reached that understanding.
The stupid kid tries to throw me to the lions? Hey, I don’t like him, and he knows it, but that’s not an honorable move. Underhanded.
Exercising personal vendettas by proxy? It’s not how things are done. I hate him.
-t
There are some here, in management, who frown on employee use of instant messenger and the internet. Some feel that the resources of the world wide web should be used for business purposes and only business purposes. Our AVP has adopted this as a personal crusade. He is out to catch you online, and put a stop to it. No more reading the fantasy football reviews on espn.com. No more cruising blogs. And heaven help you if an IM window should pop open when he is within fifty feet of your desk.
He was the first to catch me online, way back in the day (I’d left my computer on and unlocked one day at lunch with AIM still running). He came down pretty hard on hypermanager, who in turn came down pretty hard on me (prompting this post).
Since then I’ve been super covert with my internet usage…ok, not super covert, but I remember to lock my computer when I leave my desk. I haven’t heard anything about too much time online though, because management has had their hands full with stupid kid.
He’s online all day. News sites mostly, also AIM (though I think his buddy list is as empty as his “friends” group on thefacebook). Hypermanager and AVP have both commented, numerous times, about the lack of attention he pays to his funds and the copious amount of time he spends online.
Last week, just before the move, I overheard the AVP talking to the stupid kid. AVP had circumspectly brought up internet usage and its detrimental effect on the detail-oriented work we do here. The AVP then not-so-subtly suggested that the stupid kid knock that shit off and pay attention to his job instead of wasting time online.
And the stupid kid responded conversationally by telling the AVP that he’s seen me online all the time, “Some people use instant messenger all day long. Tom does it.”
What the hell?
First of all, the AVP knows it. He’s already caught me, and every once-in-a-while casually mentions excessive time online: “Hey, some groups think it’s ok, but that’s just not how I feel. That’s not how I interpret the corporate policy. I don’t want my group run that way.”
But that’s as far as it goes. He knows it’s my decision, and I know if it ever interferes with my work I’ll be shown the door. We’ve reached that understanding.
The stupid kid tries to throw me to the lions? Hey, I don’t like him, and he knows it, but that’s not an honorable move. Underhanded.
Exercising personal vendettas by proxy? It’s not how things are done. I hate him.
-t
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Location, location, location
I don’t like my new spot. I feel like I’m out in the open, I feel exposed. I feel like I can’t stroll over to a coworker’s cubicle and shoot the breeze with them for fear of being overheard. Not that I would do that, I hate my coworkers.
More foot traffic, a more open and accessible floor plan. I don’t like it. Give me back my old little corner of the office, where I can slack off in relative peace with only the few interruptions from the stupid kid. Well, no, don’t give that back.
I feel like I’m on display, performing for anyone who cares to walk by. I’m front row, center along the shortest path to the printers for half of the office. AIM, blogger – things of the past?
We’ll have to see how it goes.
-t
More foot traffic, a more open and accessible floor plan. I don’t like it. Give me back my old little corner of the office, where I can slack off in relative peace with only the few interruptions from the stupid kid. Well, no, don’t give that back.
I feel like I’m on display, performing for anyone who cares to walk by. I’m front row, center along the shortest path to the printers for half of the office. AIM, blogger – things of the past?
We’ll have to see how it goes.
-t
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Hyde
They’re scared of me. The stupid kid, the PAs, they all hesitate when they approach my desk. They know I’m going to react harshly. No one wants to give me something I won’t like.
They know the worst thing they can bring me is a problem they caused and should be able to fix. But even if the problem isn’t their fault that won’t save them. I’m still angry. I still lecture. I don’t care.
This job is ruining me. I used to be a nice guy, all the time. People are scared of me now. That’s not right. I’m not a scary guy.
These people are scared to ask me obscure questions, but do anyway, because they’re convinced I’m one of only three people that might know the difference between a 2/A security and a 3/B security. If these same people met me in real life it wouldn’t take them long to realize I can’t even remember what I’m doing this weekend.
I’m a different person here at work. And in this instance different means “worse.” And it might be carrying over into my life outside work. I don’t want to change. Not like this.
Nobody likes the work me. Especially me.
-t
They know the worst thing they can bring me is a problem they caused and should be able to fix. But even if the problem isn’t their fault that won’t save them. I’m still angry. I still lecture. I don’t care.
This job is ruining me. I used to be a nice guy, all the time. People are scared of me now. That’s not right. I’m not a scary guy.
These people are scared to ask me obscure questions, but do anyway, because they’re convinced I’m one of only three people that might know the difference between a 2/A security and a 3/B security. If these same people met me in real life it wouldn’t take them long to realize I can’t even remember what I’m doing this weekend.
I’m a different person here at work. And in this instance different means “worse.” And it might be carrying over into my life outside work. I don’t want to change. Not like this.
Nobody likes the work me. Especially me.
-t
Friday, January 13, 2006
Beating the censors
John posted something TOTALLY UNORIGINAL.
And I called him on it, by posting a comment on his blog.
And John deleted my first two comments on his post.
I saved the comments, because I'm good like that, here they are:
2 Comments:
Tom said...
dude. please, please stop stealing blog posts and ideas for posts and come up with something original.
"reading"
"gay marriage reasons"
and
"taking out five year olds"?
COME ON ALREADY.
also, please see my follow-up comment for an answer to the five year old query and also a relevant link.
1:59 PM
Tom said...
I think I could take about probably twenty or so before one of them landed a lucky shot or gouged out one of my eyes. Once injured it would just be a race against the clock and the only comfort I would have while being pummeled into an early grave would be the number of multi-national over-tired cheerio-eating velcro-wearing would-be hostage-rescue-ing mob-members I could take down with me
relevant link:
http://www.indietits.com/2005/06/i-am-pretty-sure-i-could-take-out-at.html
2:03 PM
We had this IM conversation:
johnny: also i am deleting your first comment because it is very mean
johnny: and the second
tom: CENSORSHIP
tom: HELP HELP I'm BEING REPRESSED
johnny: damn straight
johnny: my comment section is not a public forum
johnny: also a lot of time has passed since that indietits appearance and i had totally forgotten the website
I then reposted both comments along with the IM conversation. WHICH HE THEN DELETED.
This exchange followed:
tom: HEY
johnny: what
tom: did you delete my third comment?!
johnny: it contained the previous two
tom: yes
johnny: so i deleted it
WHAT A CHEAP WAY TO GET YOURSELF A MENTION IN MY BLOG JOHN.
How, original.
TRY AND DELETE THE COMMENTS NOW JOHNNY SAPPHIRE!
Bam.
-t
And I called him on it, by posting a comment on his blog.
And John deleted my first two comments on his post.
I saved the comments, because I'm good like that, here they are:
2 Comments:
Tom said...
dude. please, please stop stealing blog posts and ideas for posts and come up with something original.
"reading"
"gay marriage reasons"
and
"taking out five year olds"?
COME ON ALREADY.
also, please see my follow-up comment for an answer to the five year old query and also a relevant link.
1:59 PM
Tom said...
I think I could take about probably twenty or so before one of them landed a lucky shot or gouged out one of my eyes. Once injured it would just be a race against the clock and the only comfort I would have while being pummeled into an early grave would be the number of multi-national over-tired cheerio-eating velcro-wearing would-be hostage-rescue-ing mob-members I could take down with me
relevant link:
http://www.indietits.com/2005/06/i-am-pretty-sure-i-could-take-out-at.html
2:03 PM
We had this IM conversation:
johnny: also i am deleting your first comment because it is very mean
johnny: and the second
tom: CENSORSHIP
tom: HELP HELP I'm BEING REPRESSED
johnny: damn straight
johnny: my comment section is not a public forum
johnny: also a lot of time has passed since that indietits appearance and i had totally forgotten the website
I then reposted both comments along with the IM conversation. WHICH HE THEN DELETED.
This exchange followed:
tom: HEY
johnny: what
tom: did you delete my third comment?!
johnny: it contained the previous two
tom: yes
johnny: so i deleted it
WHAT A CHEAP WAY TO GET YOURSELF A MENTION IN MY BLOG JOHN.
How, original.
TRY AND DELETE THE COMMENTS NOW JOHNNY SAPPHIRE!
Bam.
-t
Thursday, January 12, 2006
House call
Ok, I tried to be tough. I tried to keep silent about how miserable I felt. I think I only mentioned it once on the blog, in passing, sort of a “oh, I’ve probably got a cold” sort of thing. And possibly something about aches.
Well. The fever’s got me. I’m coughing almost uncontrollably, I’m shaking with chills, and all people are doing is yelling at me!
CAN I HELP IT IF I’M SICK?!
NOOoo. It’s all “Tom, call your doctor.” and “Tom, why don’t you call the doctor.” and other such nonsense.
SO OK FINE I’M CALLING RIGHT NOW.
But come on…an appointment on such short notice? He won’t be able to see me until Monday, and this cold/cough/fever/death thing will probably have cleared itself up by then, right?
Right.
Ok fine whatever I’m calling now.
-t
Well. The fever’s got me. I’m coughing almost uncontrollably, I’m shaking with chills, and all people are doing is yelling at me!
CAN I HELP IT IF I’M SICK?!
NOOoo. It’s all “Tom, call your doctor.” and “Tom, why don’t you call the doctor.” and other such nonsense.
SO OK FINE I’M CALLING RIGHT NOW.
But come on…an appointment on such short notice? He won’t be able to see me until Monday, and this cold/cough/fever/death thing will probably have cleared itself up by then, right?
Right.
Ok fine whatever I’m calling now.
-t
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Distributed
Every month I’m responsible for compiling an expense report and then emailing it to about a zillion people.
I sent the email and attachments this morning and here is the first response I received:
To: tom@tomswork.com
From: evan@importantclient.com
Please remove my name from your distribution list because, I am no longer on the distribution list.
Regards,
Evan
Bigtime Client Finance
Head of US Operations
222-555-3073
Stupidity, apparently, is everywhere.
-tgme
I sent the email and attachments this morning and here is the first response I received:
To: tom@tomswork.com
From: evan@importantclient.com
Please remove my name from your distribution list because, I am no longer on the distribution list.
Regards,
Evan
Bigtime Client Finance
Head of US Operations
222-555-3073
Stupidity, apparently, is everywhere.
-tgme
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Grover versus Mufasa
I just had another great idea for my screenplay.
I’m not going to reveal it here, because I don’t want anybody to steal it.
I will say though that it involves James Earl Jones and Frank Oz, like any great movie should.
You heard me.
-t
I’m not going to reveal it here, because I don’t want anybody to steal it.
I will say though that it involves James Earl Jones and Frank Oz, like any great movie should.
You heard me.
-t
Personal Shopper
I’m a resource. People come to me and ask me questions. Questions they want answers to. I answer those questions.
Usually I ask a few of my own. Because I’m good like that.
You need a digital camera? How much are you willing to spend, what sorts of pictures do you take, or would like to take? What style appeals to you? What software are you running on your computer? (etc)
You want to find a sweet birthday gift for a friend or relation? How old? Boy/girl? (etc)
You know I have an amazing collection of dvds, books, whatever, you want to know where I shop. I’ll hook you up with the link.
I forget where this was going…oh, right. Basically somebody should start paying me to be this helpful. Where’s my movie check.
-t
Usually I ask a few of my own. Because I’m good like that.
You need a digital camera? How much are you willing to spend, what sorts of pictures do you take, or would like to take? What style appeals to you? What software are you running on your computer? (etc)
You want to find a sweet birthday gift for a friend or relation? How old? Boy/girl? (etc)
You know I have an amazing collection of dvds, books, whatever, you want to know where I shop. I’ll hook you up with the link.
I forget where this was going…oh, right. Basically somebody should start paying me to be this helpful. Where’s my movie check.
-t
Monday, January 09, 2006
Aged items
I’ve come up with another New Year’s Resolution you should all make:
Everybody who has a blog should take some time (preferably during work hours) and read through your archives.
Last week I was looking for a specific post and wound up reading through the entire history of the blog (and I have posted a lot since Sept. 04).
It was a blast. Every three minutes I’d be all “Whoa, I remember that.” and “Damn I am a great writer.” and “This is the best blog ever.” (even though that last one isn’t true, see: “friends” and “countrymen” sections).
It’s lots of fun.
-tgme
Everybody who has a blog should take some time (preferably during work hours) and read through your archives.
Last week I was looking for a specific post and wound up reading through the entire history of the blog (and I have posted a lot since Sept. 04).
It was a blast. Every three minutes I’d be all “Whoa, I remember that.” and “Damn I am a great writer.” and “This is the best blog ever.” (even though that last one isn’t true, see: “friends” and “countrymen” sections).
It’s lots of fun.
-tgme
Catch the fever (MY fever)
I’m sick again! I attribute this fever/cold entirely to too many late nights for too many consecutive days (fifteen and counting days with less than six hours sleep … except for Saturday night, I got eight hours Saturday)
Anyway. I’m feeling a bit under the weather. This is like Cold version 2.0, I’ve surpassed a sore throat and no voice and moved on to fever with chills and, worst of all, aches.
Man I hate achy colds. I don’t mind dealing with all the other stuff. Congestion, difficulty swallowing, helium head, etc, but aches are a different story. When I’m sitting at my desk, bored out of my mind, and feel the need to yawn and stretch out I’m crippled by sore ribs, sore arms and a sore back.
It’s not like I’ve been to the gym… ever, it’s cold induced.
Well great. I’m still here I guess. Not quite sick enough to stay home, but certainly sick enough to be totally ineffective.
I hope I’m contagious and I bring the whole office down with me. Airborne virus, biological attacks. (throwing phrases like that around should garner me some attention, right?). It’s not war though, it’s just work.
-t
Anyway. I’m feeling a bit under the weather. This is like Cold version 2.0, I’ve surpassed a sore throat and no voice and moved on to fever with chills and, worst of all, aches.
Man I hate achy colds. I don’t mind dealing with all the other stuff. Congestion, difficulty swallowing, helium head, etc, but aches are a different story. When I’m sitting at my desk, bored out of my mind, and feel the need to yawn and stretch out I’m crippled by sore ribs, sore arms and a sore back.
It’s not like I’ve been to the gym… ever, it’s cold induced.
Well great. I’m still here I guess. Not quite sick enough to stay home, but certainly sick enough to be totally ineffective.
I hope I’m contagious and I bring the whole office down with me. Airborne virus, biological attacks. (throwing phrases like that around should garner me some attention, right?). It’s not war though, it’s just work.
-t
Friday, January 06, 2006
Nothing Doing
There is very little to do here today: All the things that needed to be put in boxes have been put in boxes; All of hypermanager’s work that I’m responsible for has been finished; All the blogs in the links section have been read, commented on, and read again; a two-hour lunch was taken; IM conversations were had. Hell, I’ve even called up payroll to change my direct deposit accounts, emailed a client to provide information they don’t need, and made three fixes to securities peremptorily (?!) so they won’t be problematic at the end of the month. I’ve done all the work things and the non-work things I could think of.
And now I’m posting.
This is when I think it would be ok to read at work, or to play some dvds or something. There is only so much time I can spend wasting paper by doodling funny cartoon guys on it, and that much time has been wasted today.
I am sitting here waiting for the weekend because there is nothing else to do. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE TO DO.
Tonight, do not let me forget, I am going to watch Lost season 2 episodes 4, 5, 6 and possibly 7, 8, 9 to prepare for next week. Because Lost is coming back, in a two-hour event.
NOTHING TO DO
-t
recommended download:
Matt Nathanson, Wings, Suspended, I Saw, and More Than This
And now I’m posting.
This is when I think it would be ok to read at work, or to play some dvds or something. There is only so much time I can spend wasting paper by doodling funny cartoon guys on it, and that much time has been wasted today.
I am sitting here waiting for the weekend because there is nothing else to do. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE TO DO.
Tonight, do not let me forget, I am going to watch Lost season 2 episodes 4, 5, 6 and possibly 7, 8, 9 to prepare for next week. Because Lost is coming back, in a two-hour event.
NOTHING TO DO
-t
recommended download:
Matt Nathanson, Wings, Suspended, I Saw, and More Than This
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Seating charts and pseudonyms
The group is moving. From here, the frigid side of the office, near the elevators, where it’s quiet, and lonely, and nobody looks over my shoulder while I’m blogging because nobody comes over here, to the other side of the office where it’s loud, and busy, and maybe not so cold, but busy, where people walk by, and look at your computer as they do.
But whatever, that’s not what this post is about. People looking over my shoulder will just provide another opportunity for me to develop my skills at hiding blogger and AIM.
This post is about the seating chart.
It’s tentative, as always, and we may not be moving for another two months (St. Patrick’s Day), but, as it is, I’m sitting directly across from the pretty girl.
Yes, the one who I asked out to dinner after like two months here, the one who said yes but never went, the one who may or may not be sleeping with the oafish manager, the one who Johnny Sapphire and Felicity met and said was not pretty at all and what the hell were you thinking Tom when you called her pretty? That one.
[small aside, for those readers who I know can never get enough of pretty girl posts, and also, can never find all the links, here they are in chronological order:
1 The time I asked her out
2 When I was still smitten and she complimented my tie
3 How she kept not going out with me
4 a very poignant post (really, check the comments)
5 how to avoid a date
6 really drunk with people from the office
7 the one with all the links
8 the last time I posted about her “NotSoPrettyGirl”
This is awful. Because, well, I’m over her. I’ve been un-obsessed since the “she’s not really that pretty” incident. Now I’ll be working right across the aisle from her. That means I’m probably going to find out she’s stupid, part of that giant ninety percent of stupid people that work here. I’m going to end up hating her.
That will only lead to me second guessing myself, maybe my first impressions are all wrong for everyone. Maybe everyone is stupid. Maybe I’m a bad person and my talent is finding, and then focusing, on the bad in everyone.
Anyway. I’m making an effort to identify the daily players in this office farce more clearly. An attempt at more specific and better nicknames, so as it looks like pretty girl is a potential recurring character, I think I’ll be calling her Not So Pretty Girl. Because that’s something people will remember. Also, the capitalization helps.
Or not, I’m open to suggestions for better names. J.S., F. you guys have met her – any thoughts?
-t
But whatever, that’s not what this post is about. People looking over my shoulder will just provide another opportunity for me to develop my skills at hiding blogger and AIM.
This post is about the seating chart.
It’s tentative, as always, and we may not be moving for another two months (St. Patrick’s Day), but, as it is, I’m sitting directly across from the pretty girl.
Yes, the one who I asked out to dinner after like two months here, the one who said yes but never went, the one who may or may not be sleeping with the oafish manager, the one who Johnny Sapphire and Felicity met and said was not pretty at all and what the hell were you thinking Tom when you called her pretty? That one.
[small aside, for those readers who I know can never get enough of pretty girl posts, and also, can never find all the links, here they are in chronological order:
1 The time I asked her out
2 When I was still smitten and she complimented my tie
3 How she kept not going out with me
4 a very poignant post (really, check the comments)
5 how to avoid a date
6 really drunk with people from the office
7 the one with all the links
8 the last time I posted about her “NotSoPrettyGirl”
This is awful. Because, well, I’m over her. I’ve been un-obsessed since the “she’s not really that pretty” incident. Now I’ll be working right across the aisle from her. That means I’m probably going to find out she’s stupid, part of that giant ninety percent of stupid people that work here. I’m going to end up hating her.
That will only lead to me second guessing myself, maybe my first impressions are all wrong for everyone. Maybe everyone is stupid. Maybe I’m a bad person and my talent is finding, and then focusing, on the bad in everyone.
Anyway. I’m making an effort to identify the daily players in this office farce more clearly. An attempt at more specific and better nicknames, so as it looks like pretty girl is a potential recurring character, I think I’ll be calling her Not So Pretty Girl. Because that’s something people will remember. Also, the capitalization helps.
Or not, I’m open to suggestions for better names. J.S., F. you guys have met her – any thoughts?
-t
She probably should have married the guy with the Spielberg obsession
We weren’t allowed to watch Dawson’s Creek when I was in high school. I assumed it was an extreme parental reaction to rumors of a sexual relationship between the characters of a student and teacher on the show. Looking back, it could be that my dad watched the show and thought it was poorly written/acted/ and/or directed.
I did regret, in those high school years, that I never got to see that moment when Dawson throws a basketball off of Pacey’s face. I’d seen clips and promos for that episode, and it looked awesome.
I still don’t know what prompted it.
I bring it up because I just found out TBS is running episodes of Dawson’s Creek weekday mornings at nine a.m.
I might never be on time for work again.
-t
I did regret, in those high school years, that I never got to see that moment when Dawson throws a basketball off of Pacey’s face. I’d seen clips and promos for that episode, and it looked awesome.
I still don’t know what prompted it.
I bring it up because I just found out TBS is running episodes of Dawson’s Creek weekday mornings at nine a.m.
I might never be on time for work again.
-t
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
And I'm not paying two bits for a shave, either
Hey. I came in here for a haircut, ok? I did not pay twenty-five dollars for “styling” or “a trim.” Cut means cut, alright?
I want to see scissors out and flashing. I want to hear the snip-snip-snip of those sharpened shears. Take out that spray bottle and start spritzing.
When I say “I want it shorter” that’s what I mean: shorter. I’m not sitting in this chair wearing a ridiculous backwards cape so you can see exactly how close you can get to my hair without actually touching it.
I want a hair cut. I don’t want an eighth of an inch here, a sixteenth of an inch there. Stop using fractions! Take the whole inch, take two inches if it’s that long.
Because let me tell you, if my hair’s long enough that it can lose two inches? it is Way. Too. Long.
So get cutting. And don’t look all confused at me in the mirror when I say “a little more off the sides and back, and shorter on the top and front.”
This is what I’m paying for, lady.
To be honest, I have never been really happy with a haircut received from a woman “stylist” or “hair care professional” or “barber” or whatever. Where’s the men at? At least with a guy you get some precision, some action.
“You want short? How short? Real short, or straight-edge?... Real short? OK, done.”
And then, bam. He grabs your hair and just starts whaling on it. Hacking til it’s down to a fingerwidth of your scalp. None of this “We’ll take a little off the top, then a little off the sides, and see how it lays…then a little more off the top to see if it complements your face, then a little more off the sides…are you sure you want it that short? Maybe we just leave it like this, ok?”
NO. Not ok. I said short because I know my hair looks good short. And because I know it’s starting to look ridiculous now. I do not want you to take a micrometer off of every strand of hair, one-at-a-time, and then have to pay another thirty bucks to have you do it again next week because it’s too long again.
Here’s your money, see you in two months. Three if I get lazy.
That’s not to say every haircut I’ve received from a guy has gone well.
Case in point: I was duped into going to a “nice” hair salon (by none other than Johnny Sapphire) where instead of cutting my hair the “stylist” basically dumped a jar of goo on my head, mussed it around and charged me fifty bucks. Not only was my hair still too long and unstyled but the very next person I asked told me that “No, your hair doesn’t look bad, what were you, swimming?.” Jackass.
Which brings me to my next point. What is with the freaking hair products?!?!”
When you, hair-cutter, ask “Do you use any product in your hair?” and get “No” as an answer do not take it upon yourself to unilaterally decide that, “Yes, I think “product” is a good decision and should be applied very liberally to your entire head!”
It is not a good decision. I don’t like it. And what the hell are you using in that salon, instant concrete?! First of all, two handfuls of anything is too much of it, and when you’ve just, (according to my wishes) (even though they go against every unnatural instinct you’ve had forced into you in “styling school”) begrudgingly, cut my hair to within an inch and a half of its life those two handfuls of “product” will last me until next December, and should not be glopped onto my head!
I do not like my hair to crackle. I am not a statue of marble or steel. I would like my hair to, you know, move if there’s a breeze. Hair is supposed to get messed up if there’s a gust of wind, not whistle.
GAH.
All I’m looking for is a person with a pair of scissors and a comb that I don’t have to go seventeen rounds with to get my hair cut. It’s not difficult, it’s not tricky, just make it shorter!
And I’ll be back in a couple months.
-t
I want to see scissors out and flashing. I want to hear the snip-snip-snip of those sharpened shears. Take out that spray bottle and start spritzing.
When I say “I want it shorter” that’s what I mean: shorter. I’m not sitting in this chair wearing a ridiculous backwards cape so you can see exactly how close you can get to my hair without actually touching it.
I want a hair cut. I don’t want an eighth of an inch here, a sixteenth of an inch there. Stop using fractions! Take the whole inch, take two inches if it’s that long.
Because let me tell you, if my hair’s long enough that it can lose two inches? it is Way. Too. Long.
So get cutting. And don’t look all confused at me in the mirror when I say “a little more off the sides and back, and shorter on the top and front.”
This is what I’m paying for, lady.
To be honest, I have never been really happy with a haircut received from a woman “stylist” or “hair care professional” or “barber” or whatever. Where’s the men at? At least with a guy you get some precision, some action.
“You want short? How short? Real short, or straight-edge?... Real short? OK, done.”
And then, bam. He grabs your hair and just starts whaling on it. Hacking til it’s down to a fingerwidth of your scalp. None of this “We’ll take a little off the top, then a little off the sides, and see how it lays…then a little more off the top to see if it complements your face, then a little more off the sides…are you sure you want it that short? Maybe we just leave it like this, ok?”
NO. Not ok. I said short because I know my hair looks good short. And because I know it’s starting to look ridiculous now. I do not want you to take a micrometer off of every strand of hair, one-at-a-time, and then have to pay another thirty bucks to have you do it again next week because it’s too long again.
Here’s your money, see you in two months. Three if I get lazy.
That’s not to say every haircut I’ve received from a guy has gone well.
Case in point: I was duped into going to a “nice” hair salon (by none other than Johnny Sapphire) where instead of cutting my hair the “stylist” basically dumped a jar of goo on my head, mussed it around and charged me fifty bucks. Not only was my hair still too long and unstyled but the very next person I asked told me that “No, your hair doesn’t look bad, what were you, swimming?.” Jackass.
Which brings me to my next point. What is with the freaking hair products?!?!”
When you, hair-cutter, ask “Do you use any product in your hair?” and get “No” as an answer do not take it upon yourself to unilaterally decide that, “Yes, I think “product” is a good decision and should be applied very liberally to your entire head!”
It is not a good decision. I don’t like it. And what the hell are you using in that salon, instant concrete?! First of all, two handfuls of anything is too much of it, and when you’ve just, (according to my wishes) (even though they go against every unnatural instinct you’ve had forced into you in “styling school”) begrudgingly, cut my hair to within an inch and a half of its life those two handfuls of “product” will last me until next December, and should not be glopped onto my head!
I do not like my hair to crackle. I am not a statue of marble or steel. I would like my hair to, you know, move if there’s a breeze. Hair is supposed to get messed up if there’s a gust of wind, not whistle.
GAH.
All I’m looking for is a person with a pair of scissors and a comb that I don’t have to go seventeen rounds with to get my hair cut. It’s not difficult, it’s not tricky, just make it shorter!
And I’ll be back in a couple months.
-t
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
For want of a tuning fork...
transcription of a note I found in my travel bag while I was searching my room for a tuning fork:
7/5/05
Dear La Quinta,
or should I say Dear "free high-speed internet access"
My stay here sucked.
I was ditched for a random guy on 6th street, there were NO clean towels for two days in a row - And I didn't even hook up with the drunk chick that climbed into bed with me! What is up with that!?
Also, your "free internet" should really maybe just be called "free air" because there was NO internetting going on in this room.
To sum up:
didn't get towels, didn't get internet, didn't get laid.
I blame you, La Quinta.
Sincerely,
Dissatisfied Customer
P.S. the pool was very nice.
7/5/05
Dear La Quinta,
or should I say Dear "free high-speed internet access"
My stay here sucked.
I was ditched for a random guy on 6th street, there were NO clean towels for two days in a row - And I didn't even hook up with the drunk chick that climbed into bed with me! What is up with that!?
Also, your "free internet" should really maybe just be called "free air" because there was NO internetting going on in this room.
To sum up:
didn't get towels, didn't get internet, didn't get laid.
I blame you, La Quinta.
Sincerely,
Dissatisfied Customer
P.S. the pool was very nice.
Resolute
Happy New Year, everybody.
Here is a list of resolutions that you all should make:
1. Learn to play Mafia (rules and strategy guide available by request, just email a20261 @ gmail . com)
2. Get a job you like
3. Start paying for your own car insurance
4. Get a new apartment, with parking
5. Buy yourself a “kiss me I’m Irish” t-shirt and wear it on St. Patrick’s Day
6. Travel to a faraway land, country, or state
7. Visit the capital building in Austin Texas and make Johnny Sapphire give you a tour
8. Take a road trip
9. Play more ping pong
And
10. Start getting excited for PHILLONYE 06
-tgme
p.s. how set are we on that spelling? You say phillonye, I say philonye? Well, I still say PHONYE, but it’s all good. Happy new year!
Here is a list of resolutions that you all should make:
1. Learn to play Mafia (rules and strategy guide available by request, just email a20261 @ gmail . com)
2. Get a job you like
3. Start paying for your own car insurance
4. Get a new apartment, with parking
5. Buy yourself a “kiss me I’m Irish” t-shirt and wear it on St. Patrick’s Day
6. Travel to a faraway land, country, or state
7. Visit the capital building in Austin Texas and make Johnny Sapphire give you a tour
8. Take a road trip
9. Play more ping pong
And
10. Start getting excited for PHILLONYE 06
-tgme
p.s. how set are we on that spelling? You say phillonye, I say philonye? Well, I still say PHONYE, but it’s all good. Happy new year!
This is how I dance
I am good at what I do. It is not because I work hard; It is not because I am especially intelligent; It is not because I’m lucky. I am good at what I do, because that is what I do.
I am good at being good at things.
That is why I get promotions, more responsibilities, fame and renown. People here, where I work, think it’s because I have a good understanding of finance, mutual funds specifically. Really, it’s because working on mutual funds is what I currently do.
I don’t want it to be what I continue to do.
-tgme
I am good at being good at things.
That is why I get promotions, more responsibilities, fame and renown. People here, where I work, think it’s because I have a good understanding of finance, mutual funds specifically. Really, it’s because working on mutual funds is what I currently do.
I don’t want it to be what I continue to do.
-tgme
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