Out of Pod Experience

Pie VS. an UnMuffin?

take the pie UAE, take the pie

this will make OHL think she's gotten away with it, then next time SUPER WRATH!

Dude, if only the world had more psychos like you...it would be a better place.

I'm glad you didn't listen to the solvent abusers here and go easy on her, bravo you magnificent bastard.

You sir are a god of trolling.

He'd get my vote.

Muffin making is Scarlett Johansson's superpower. I am dissapoint, but only slightly. I thought her arse was her primary superpower.

On that note I have freshly made custard duffnuts, they're still warm too. Nomnomnom

Showdown at the BOC Corral.

Im going to apologize ahead of time. This has been a few days in the works.. and the email I sent home to post online got ate by outlook.. so some of it had to be recreated.

Steve (Alpha Douche) has decided to play psychological warfare games. I don't know if that is really his goal.. but that's what he is doing. Steve got himself a new CD player for his desk.. and hes very proud of it. Why anyone would be proud of a cd player in this day in age is beyond me. He could simply use his computer.. but hey. Well Steve decided that he was going to use his new treasure to listen to his favorite band.. Blue Oyster Cult. All week long.. all day.. Steve is happy, hes over there singing along, rocking out, the usual Steve stuff.

This started Monday morning.. At first it was cool. I enjoy a few Blue Oyster Cult songs, so I was jamming along, getting stuff done. But it didn't stop. That thing must have like.. 8 CDs in it or something.. but im noticing that all of Steves Cds have some of the same songs.. so ive heard many of them over and over again. People are starting to grumble around end of day...

Tuesday morning... its starts off quiet. Good sign. Oh nope.. Theres Steve.. ten seconds later.. Yay.. more Blue Oyster Cult. I can deal. Rhonda the Hutt is getting angry... her ex husband must have liked BOC. She getting mouthy.. This wont bode well for Steve. Once again.. a full day of this. Steve.. this better not happen tomorrow..

Wednesday.. Ok.. im getting fed up. I cant take "Don't Fear the Reaper" or "Godzilla" one more time. Those 2 songs are literally on every CD.. Finally, I break. "Dammit Steve.. if you do this tomorrow.. I swear to god.. " He smiles.. I smile.. Down the gauntlet has been thrown. I immeadiately know what im going to do tomorrow if he does this again. To the store! Weapons must be procured!

This morning I stroll in.. my weapon of choice hidden in an insulated lunch sack. Go ahead Steve.. do it.

He doesn't. Im shocked.

Everyone is enjoying some peace and quiet. Work is getting done. Good. its been a busy week.. so much stuff to get done! 11:55am.. five minutes to noon.. almost lunch time. I look over in Steve's direction. He staring at me.. huge devious smile on his face.. He doing the finger pyramid of evil contemplation.. I see him reach towards his CD player..

I stand straight up and shove my chair aside.. making the loudest wheeled chair skidding noise ever. Pointing at Steve I yell "Don't you dare...". Steve stands up.

Were facing each other now.. 30 feet between us. Everyone has gotten silent. The showdown has begun.

Steve is poised to reach for something.. I cant see what it is. I respond my opening my desk drawer with my foot, putting my hidden weapon within reach...

I see Steve go for it! He reaches down and turns the player on.. then reaches to the side for something else.

The opening riff for "Don't Fear the Reaper" plays.. loudly... Fantastic! This is what I wanted!

I reach down and pick up... A COWBELL!!!!

Oh hells yeah.. im gonna... Wait...... What does Steve ha... NO....

Steve holds above his head... A COWBELL!!!!

Mother of god... we had the same idea... Steve is shocked. Im shocked. Neither of us expected the other to do this... People are.. confused.

We stand there.. for a few seconds. Neither of us know what to do at this point. I look at Steve.. and I think we had one of those telepathic bro conversations. At the same time.. we both grinned..

A second later.. and in perfect time to the song.. we both play the hell out of our cowbells. Together.. we explore the space. This office had a fever.. and its only cure.. was MORE COWBELL.

Steve.. you magnificent douche.. we think too much alike.. and together.. we got Cowbells banned from the office. Is this why we cant have nice things? Probably. But for 5 minutes.. we rocked the place. It was worth it.

Side Note: Blue Oyster Cult is banned from the office as well.

Note to self: Must eliminate Steve.. he poses a threat if his mind went to the same SNL sketch as mine..

We can see that crystalline moment...

Daycares pulling children into the house. The 'tock tock' of the second hand as the clock approaches high noon. The drone of BOC like locusts in the dust.

Movement!

The shots of cowbells ringing as the gunslingers aim but are deft enough; or perhaps savvy enough to anticipate each others movements.

You have not found your Sherlock Holmes, professor.

But, this challenge cannot be allowed to continue. It is time to bring in the big muffins.

(sorry about the mixed metaphors)

A couple of jobs ago, I was working at a pretty small startup. The main office was in Chicago, but there was a small team in Minneapolis, which is where I worked. By a small team I mean there was the Chief Research Officer, a Research Manager, 4 Research Drones, and me--the developer assigned to write software for them. I got away with all kinds of things because my boss was the Chief Technology Officer, and he was in Chicago.

For example, everyone absolutely hated Research Manager. She was a dumb **** on wheels, and I mean everyone hated her. People hated her so much that I successfully nicknamed her 'Fat Cow.' But that's for another story, another time

In our company there was exactly one black person, and he was one of the research drones in my office. So around January, he starts grumbling about us not getting MLK day off. There was no one to grumble to in particular because our company had no HR person--at the time. Also, keep in mind that this was the whitest, frat daddy douchebag, popped polo collar wearing Abercrombie and B*tch black man I've ever met. He was whiter than you would imagine a guy named Huntington Stape Reginald Gather, IV would be if he was a real white person and introduced himself to everyone as, "Hunter, Hunter Gather." Yeah, this black guy was whiter than that.

Anyway, "Winston" was grumbling about not getting MLK day off, sort of as a joke at first, but then a little bit more seriously, and then kind of full blown race-card. It was irritating. Management didn't give a flying rat's ass f*ck about it, and there was no way he was going to win this without an HR troll to scare people with lawsuits and stuff. So I piped up one day and I said, "Hey guys. Why don't we have a little office celebration thing. We can have lunch brought in, and do something fun together as a team, maybe knock off a little early and hit the office bar or something. It won't be a full-blown day off, but maybe a little bit of a lighter day."

This was agreed upon. Cow started nosing in on things and tried to help plan, but I was all, "Nonononono. Don't worry your pretty head about a thing. I'll take care of everything."

MLK day fell on a Monday that year, which was perfect because I was able to get everything set up over the weekend. So MLK day rolls around, and people get into the office and see a life-size cardboard cutout of MLK in the middle of the room. And a table full of packages wrapped up like it's Christmas. And a giant box that looks like a fancy cake.

I start handing out presents, and I'm wishing everyone a happy MLK day, and people open up the boxes, and it's . . . nerf guns for everyone!!! One of the smarter drones is starting to get suspicious about where this is going and giving me these looks like, "Oh God. No. Please don't let this be happening."

So it's time for a history lesson about the MLK assassination. Did you know for example, that the bullet that killed him entered through his right cheek (Drawing a big circle around that area on the cutout in red marker), traveled downward through his spinal cord, fracturing several vertebra and eventually severed his jugular vein before lodging in his scapula? (Circling each of these areas inside the large circle. Now starting to look like a target with a bullseye.)

Now it's time for cake. Cow goes to the cake box and opens it up and it says, "Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Assassination Re-enactment Day!!!" And I explain that now it's time for everyone to eat some cake and take shots at the cutout from across the room to see who can come the closest to hitting the actual spot where he was shot. People inside the target area get to keep their nerf guns.

The Chief Research Office has joined the smart drone in thinking this has turned into a very bad idea. "Winston" is WTF-ing really hard right now. I explain, "You know, a lot of people take a day like this as a vacation day--an excuse to party. I'm trying to get people more involved with what happened. To connect with history in a meaningful way. This is seriously important."

So people actually start taking shots at the cutout. "Winston" is all "Hell no. I'm not shooting at MLK." I reply, "Welp, I'll have to take your nerf gun then. You want to keep it, you have to shoot the target." So he unloads this giant assault rifle of a nerf gun on MLK, which is making it EXTREMELY difficult for me to keep a straight face. I ask the smart drone to get a picture of this for the company photo album. She declines. But! But! But! Cow jumps in with her phone and captures the moment for me! I hate her slightly less.

You can imagine how the rest of the day went from there. I went out to pick up lunch for everyone. Fried chicken for everyone! And what's this? A watermelon! Yay! And for drinks with lunch, Courvoisier and coke. Isn't black culture delicious?!

"Winston" was actually a little upset about the whole thing, but it didn't really matter because we all got pretty hammered around lunch time and didn't do much for the rest of the day. I had a bunch of velcro tipped nerf darts and I just kept shooting Cow in the ****, over and over. "Hey Cow. I shot you in the ****. Sorry about that. It was an accident." "Oops. I did it again, Cow." "Hey cow, there's a nerf penis stuck to your crotchal region. Sorry about that." "Oh, wow, I just shot you in the **** again."

Honestly that went on for a couple of weeks. Anyway, "Winston" comes into work the next day and he says, "Hey man, I told some of my friends about how you put together that whole MLK day event." I said, "Oh really? What did they think."

"Don't ever do me any favors again. Never."

I filled out the proper forms and sent the expense report to my boss in Chicago: $650 for a "Team-building Event." He approved it without asking a single question.

This reminds me of a keyboard incident involving my boss which nearly ended up as an HR complaint.

When this happened, my boss had been office-politics wrestling with this attorney and her team who were temporarily contracted to our office to help us handle some excess work. This attorney woman happened to be black.


So one day she sends out this email talking about schedule of a bunch of projects and my boss is livid because of the arrogant tone of the email and how a lot of assumptions of agreement are made, etc. etc. My boss is totally losing his **** by the time he starts hammering out a reply.

Now my boss uses a Mac, and Macs have this wonderful feature called autocorrect which we so love on our phones. So he's typing and typing a big ass email and then he hits send. For some reason, he decides to re-read the email that he just sent.


At one point in the email he used the word 'laggers'.

Well, the autocorrect didn't know 'laggers' so it changed it to 'naggers'.

My boss shows me this email. If the autocorrect had changed one more letter, he would have been fired on the spot.