Author: The Centaur

It is once again that time of year to plant myself on a couch, swear at the television, drink to excess and pin my happiness on the success of Gonzaga’s basketball team. Yes, it is NCAA tournament time.

I’m pleased to announce that the second annual Zillionaire pool is up and running. This contest is 100% free, mainly because the prospect of collecting money from each person would entail pulling off the biggest upset in tournament history. Consequently, since this contest is free, there are no prizes whatsoever. Instead, the winner will be lionized on this website and have the freedom to be an insufferable braggart for an entire year.

Please note, by submitting picks, you are subject to ridicule on this site for any of the following transgressions:

1. Horrible picks
2. Losing to my wife
3. Failing to pick a single upset
4. Lack of creativity on user name
5. Neglecting to trash talk others below you in the rankings

Go here to sign up. The deadline to enter is one millisecond before the tip-off of the first game (Thursday Morning, approx 9am).
The group name is: Internet Zillionaire
The password is: Zillionaire

Also, make sure to read up on the scoring system when you sign up, as there are bonus points awarded for correctly picking upsets. The justification for this is that if you are willing to make a high-risk pick, there should be a high-reward for doing so as well.

Best of luck to everyone.

Several years ago, the Best Buy CEO addressed the executive board about naming their new team of in-store tech support…

Ok, let’s get this meeting started. First off, I think we’re all in agreement that the marketing name of this new group of computer repair specialists is critical. We really want to stand apart from the competition here. To do that, I have a radical idea. Instead of lauding the professionalism or technical skills of our tech-support employees, I want to play up the stereotype that anyone with knowledge about computers is a socially awkward loser.

That’s right, I think the naming of our tech-support service ought to demean our employees by associating them with the lowest pariah of American society: the nerd. And our job here today is to craft a name for our technicians that will cast them as pathetic introverts to the general public.

Here is my vision: Imagine one of our tech employees strikes up a conversation with a pretty girl he’s hoping to impress. Now, when she asks him where he works, I want her to laugh in his face when he tells her. Then, I want her to run over to her friends so that they can all laugh at him as well. That’s the kind of brand association we’re going for here.

Now, maybe you’re asking, “Why go to this length to belittle and disparage our own employees?” It’s simple. When our customers drop off their computer for repair work, I want them to think that our technicians are such dateless, social misfits that they will have no higher priority on a Saturday night than fixing computers. That translates to peace of mind for the consumer.

Look at it this way, would you want to take your laptop in for repair to a tech support group called “Really Cool Guys That Party and Associate with Females”? Of course you wouldn’t. Your laptop would probably come back covered with beer stains and the disk drive would be stuffed with used condoms.

That’s why we’re going to go in the total opposite direction. Here are some names I’ve come up with so far…

Celibate Squad: Now, this name clearly labels our employees as social outcasts. This is good. Unfortunately, I feel it should also convey that they possess some underlying technical abilities as well. We’ll have to scratch this one.

Introvert Brigade: I really like this one. However, from a marketing standpoint, it has probably got too many syllables, and it just doesn’t roll off the tongue.

Nerd Team: Personally, I love the word “nerd.” It perfectly embodies the stereotypes we’re trying to perpetuate. The only sticking point is that the word “team” is most often associated with athletics. It just seems like too much of an oxymoron.

Loser Force: This one might be too harsh.

The A/V Club: While this is not an especially catchy name, I do think this would help with new employee recruitment at local high schools.

And finally, my personal favorite: Geek Squad. In the olden days, a “geek” was a freakish circus performer. Nowadays, the word “geek” has evolved to refer to someone with eccentric nerdiness. A broad word like this gives us a lot of latitude in denigrating our employees in advertising. Honestly, is “Geek Squad” perfect or what?

I can see lots of nodding. I think it’s pretty unanimous… Geek Squad it is!

That’s good for now. Let’s set up a meeting next week to discuss the uniform. Obviously, we’ll make them wear bleached white shirts with clip-on ties. I’ll make sure we get some pocket-protectors in there too. Oh, and someone should contact the legal department to see if we could contractually force the “Geek Squad” employees to get braces and bad haircuts as well.

All right, this meeting is adjourned. Let’s get some lunch.

I present to you, an email to a coworker that I am on the verge of sending:

Larry,

Guess what I did today? I went onto the company’s intranet site and researched whom you report to. It turns out you are not totally unaccountable around here, as your recent actions might otherwise suggest.

I am now in possession of your boss’s email address… good ol’ Jim.Swathmore@wscb.com. Rest assured, I honestly don’t want to use this information. However, if the situation warrants, I am prepared to cc him on future emails between us, potentially with the high-importance exclamation flag in use as well.

I see that I have your attention now. As you may recall, I emailed you last week, requesting the expense budget from your department. I even reminded you of this two days ago by the vending machines.

Both times, you told me you were on top of it.

Of course, this was a lie. In reality, you’ve spent the last week procrastinating and hoping that this whole project would blow over and you’d escape doing any work whatsoever.

For the record, I’m not angry. Honestly, I respect the way you’ve handled things thus far. I would have played the situation in the exact same way.

In fact, when my boss first broached the subject of the company-wide expense study, I went incommunicado for a few weeks myself. I diligently spent my time at work crafting ways to extricate myself from the project altogether. While I ended up wasting several days doing this, I viewed it as a worthwhile investment in non-productivity.

When he finally asked me about my progress, I told my boss I had prepared a “feasibility analysis” on what it would take to get the project done. In actuality, the “feasibility analysis” was just a term I made up for a list of excuses to not do the project at all. I’ll spare you the details of my PowerPoint presentation and go right to the conclusion: The expense project he assigned was totally not worth doing.

Of course, my boss saw it differently. Normally, when I apply that level of professional effort to not doing work it pays off handsomely. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time, as my boss made it clear that this expense analysis must get done. And this is where fate has thrust us together. You, Larry, are the logjam that is stonewalling all progress on this project.

For the record, I would prefer that you don’t send me anything, and continue to ignore these emails. In doing so, you will be sparing us both the hassle of actually doing our jobs, while at the same time positioning yourself to take all the blame when this project ultimately fails. However, please understand that these emails will persist, as I need to establish a paper trail of effort on my part to effectively make you the scapegoat.

So Larry, we’re at the point of no return. I need to make one last attempt at getting you to do your job. And unfortunately, my only remaining option is the underhanded maneuver of cc’ing of your boss on an email outlining your incompetence and apathy. While I’m sure your boss is generally aware of your ineptness, I’m more than happy to provide a second opinion in affirmation. I realize it is the smarmiest move in inter-office relations, but I’m prepared to do it.

It’s your call.

One other thing, if you do decide to crunch some numbers, don’t do too good of a job on this. Seriously, let’s not run the risk of this report being too useful. I’ll sabotage it a little on my end too. The last thing either of us needs is for management to decide that this report should be updated every quarter or something.

Thanks for your time. I await your reply,

The Centaur

True story: I went to the bathroom today at work, took care of my business at the urinal and proceeded to the sink to do the obligatory hand wash. For the record, at this point my hands are basically clean. We have infrared urinals in the office that flush automatically, so I haven’t touched the toilet. Granted, I have briefly handled my genitals, but I don’t really consider that act in itself to be unsanitary.

After all, I take pride in keeping my genitals in immaculate condition. Hell, you could eat off it if you had to. But that is a different post altogether. The point is, regardless of my personal assessment of the cleanliness of my hands, society dictates that I give them a courtesy wash after using the office restroom, even if it is totally insincere.

Naturally, I oblige. Here’s where this story takes a turn: There is no soap. Both dispensers have been ripped out of the wall. At a moment like this, multiple thoughts ran through my head:

• First off, I thought, it sure is odd to steal two liquid soap dispensers. As far as stealing office supplies goes, this has got to be an unconventional theft. Or was it a theft? Taking soap dispensers could really be considered more of a prank, right? It is a fine line. It’s not like these dispensers have a street value, as I doubt one could feed a family or support a drug habit by pawning two liquid soap dispensers. On the other hand, stealing all the toilet paper would definitely be a prank… as there is a definite humor opportunity at someone else’s misfortune. I’m not sure if taking the soap has the same effect. Anyway, I wrestled with the distinction of prank vs. theft for awhile, and then it occurred to me that this could really be an experiment. Perhaps someone has planned a sociological experiment to see how people would react if there was no soap in the bathroom. Maybe this is all being secretly filmed, on a show like Candid Camera. Ultimately, I decided that was unlikely. Seriously, all of these thoughts ran through my head. Then, I realized I had about a half-dozen issues of much larger concern with the missing soap dispensers.
• For starters, these dispensers weren’t easy to steal. They were bolted to the wall. If these aren’t safe, what about the bobbleheads and Star Wars figures at my desk? Then I remembered I played with them earlier in the day (sigh of relief).
• Next, I was thankful that nobody else was in the bathroom with me. Truthfully, I’m always thankful for this. But today, even more so. I was fortunate that all my business was conducted at an infrared urinal, and a hand washing wasn’t critical. If there were witnesses present, I might otherwise have been forced into acting like I cared about the lack of soap, or felt disgusted that my hands were unwashed after using the bathroom. In this particular situation, I really wasn’t bothered by it.
• Then, a sickening feeling came over me. It dawned on me that nobody else would be using soap today either. This was a problem. I seriously don’t want to touch anyone or anything for the rest of the day. Starting now, I plan on walking around the office with my hands tucked into my armpits like Mary Catherine Gallagher.
• At some point, probably this afternoon, I will have to go to the bathroom again. Will I walk all the way across the building to the other bathroom, just so I can pretend to care about washing my hands? Will I opt for convenience, and realize I’m not here to impress anyone, and just use the soapless bathroom a short walk from my desk? Or, do I decide that any pretense of office decorum has been destroyed, and just pee in a water bottle at my desk like a trucker? Honestly, all of these ideas have merit.
• Finally, if I had to choose one two-word adjective to sum up my coworkers it would be: “exceptionally lazy”. I guarantee most of the men in my quadrant will have no qualms about forgoing a hand washing if it would potentially save a trip across the building. That’s a given. However, the real debate is over how long it will take to get the soap situation rectified. Someone will have to take the initiative to email the maintenance director or notify the janitorial service. Sounds simple, but this would mean summoning an ounce of productivity. Therefore, I think the over/under before we get soap in the bathroom again is 8 weeks. Place your wagers. (And to be fair, and to not influence the outcome, I will limit my contribution to fixing the soap problem to this post.)

Shaking my head, I shuddered at the prospects for the rest of the day. I ran my hands under some water, and called it good. At least I get to work from home tomorrow, and nobody cares if I wash my hands there.

Warning: This post will take an abrupt nosedive somewhere after the fourth paragraph…

Like all men, I was born with a pair of nipples. They are strictly ornamental. As far as I can tell, the only purpose mine serve is a spot to grow abnormally long hairs upon.

Sure, I could have my nipples removed. Lots of men do. There are sanitary reasons for doing so. Others remove them for religious observance. And, of course, many guys undergo cosmetic surgery hoping to appeal to women that prefer the “nippleless” look on men.

However, I chose to keep my nipples for one very important reason: the metaphors. I’ve found that my language is more colorful and vivid because of the ability to incorporate my nipples into daily conversation.

For instance, on a cold day, I have the freedom to use expressions like, “Wow, it’s a bit nipply out there.” Notice that nobody raises an eyebrow. Since I technically have nipples, there is no questioning of my right to use the expression.

But while nipple references are certainly great, the best metaphors in life revolve around testicles.

For example, I have the freedom to say that I’m sweatin’ my balls off, or that I’m freezin’ my balls off. As any man knows, in any inclement weather, your balls are the first things to go.

On top of that, there are a ton of other expressions I can employ. Everyone knows I am not referring to a collection of precious gems when I speak of the family jewels. While at work, I can cite that I’m bustin’ my balls, breakin’ my balls, or have them in a vice. Granted, I could simply say that I’m working hard, or am dealing with a difficult situation instead. But let’s face it, it’s not nearly as colorful.

Also, I can evaluate my actions and decisions based on how ballsy they are. Conversely, I can mock a friend for not involving his balls in his decision-making. Simply put, this is the harshest criticism a man can receive, as there is really no excuse for not choosing the ballsy path in life. After all, when faced with a choice of approaching a situation prudently or boldly, the cautious brain would always be outvoted by the balls 2-1. Or, in my case, 3-1.

Tragically, I know there are a lot of women reading this post that wish they had access to these metaphors. For that reason, I strongly urge you to have a pair of balls surgically grafted onto your body. Have them attached to your shoulders or something. Just as it is worth it for me to have a pair of non-functioning nipples, so too will you find it worthwhile to have a pair of ornamental testicles, even if it is strictly for conversational purposes.

Sorry ladies… Don’t take any of that seriously. I’m just bustin’ your balls.