I SAID, Are We Having FUN yet?

I work at this place - I'm going to follow my pal Matt's (from A.S.S.) lead and refer to it as the Pseudonymous Organization. It's an... interesting place, let's just leave it at that, for now.

Matt recently escaped, as will St. Pauly Girl in about a week. Me, you ask? How kind of you, but no - I will never escape this place. As has always been the case, I've spent the past 6.5 years building a skill set that's so friggin' particular to this place, it's worthless anywhere else. In other words, I'm not so mobile. I congratulate Matt and SPG, as well as Elise and Christopher (also from A.S.S. and also former inmates - er, employees here at Your Soul Is Ours, Inc.), but I will miss their presences here. It gets harder and harder to handle the scat this place throws at me (I swear, it's like working for angry howler monkeys some days), and will no doubt get even harder without them around. Just me against the howler monkeys, I guess - time to go buy a saucer sled to shield myself from the scat.

I could go on for far longer about the ills of this place than y'all want to see, but for now I'll concentrate on my main peeve - they love enforced merriment here. LOVE IT. They're so myopic it's actually frightening. Screw giving people the proper tools to do their jobs, or competent leadership to help them succeed - why invest in all that when you can have a pizza party? Everyone loves pizza, right? You betcha!

This week my former department (I did manage to escape that chunk of rotting hell, at least) has set a new low in terms of enforced merriment - they had a theme week of sorts that included showing crappy old movies, serving rancid popcorn*, crappy sheet cake, and of course handing out utterly shitty "prizes" for the dolts who participated in a series of not-at-all-challenging trivia contests. The capper to this week of crazy bedlam and "fun"? They had the poor sods dress up as either T-Birds or Pink Ladies, with the best-dressed winning - wait for it, it's worth it - a DVD of Grease. Yes, that rancid old musical was someone's "prize" for dressing up like a knob and subjecting themselves to the ridicule of the rest of the company (who were not "celebrating" this week).

First of all, I'd like to personally offer NBC an extra special kick in the nuts for bringing that shit-fest back. Really great, guys. Next you should branch out into prepared foods and offer us some sort of sandwich that combines awesome things, much as you have combined Grease and reality TV. How about shit and bile? That'd be awesome.

Finally, I'd like to say this to my former comrades in that department. Get. The. Fuck. OUT OF THERE. I don't care if you have to gnaw your own goddamn hands off to escape the shackles, do it.


*We have a couple popcorn carts here at the PO, and damn if they're not dragged out for any damn reason at all, as if they're some sort of panacea for all the world's problems. Weak.