Keep your cool

Every month, some lucky corporate envoy on our floor gets to clean out the common refrigeration unit.

It’s a ritualistic endeavor that starts with several e-mails to the department.

The first of which warns us of the upcoming fridge purification. The second, a reminder that any ‘unlabelled’ foodstuffs will be discarded without prejudice. And finally an e-mail to report the (always) colossal success of the effort. A very well run and organized process that is closely modeled after Nazi behaviour.

It’s a fridge people.

Get a life.




↑ [ discarded by rotameus  |  11:10 AM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Diss Claimer:

Artistic license is used in the creation of this blog.

The ideas and opinions expressed on these pages do not necessarily represent those of the authors or editors.

Reader discretion is advised.

Thank you.



↑ [ discarded by wAnderLost  |  2:26 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Stickin' it to them

It's summer. Hot, hazy and (I'm gonna say it) HUMID.

I'm planning several offsite meetings...perhaps each afternoon for the next three weeks or so. There must be clients to visit. Somewhere.

Who are you to tell me that the person I talk to on the ferry isn't the next big customer?? How will we know, if we don't seek them out? I'm sure they are lurking on patios and islands nearby.

It is my corporate duty to find them. To save the sinking ship.

Or at least to find myself a lifejacket.




↑ [ discarded by wAnderLost  |  4:29 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patios are people too

You are perpetually invited to join the dark side.



↑ [ discarded by rotameus  |  7:57 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Love thy neighbour

It's 4:21 on a hot, humid, downtown Friday afternoon and the department has been empty for hours...my colleagues having fled the cube farm for the respite of alcohol-serving patios.

Yet, I'm still here...waiting for our client to get a clue that I don't like to be at work at times like this. Waiting for that same client to finish the work they've been dragging their hairy-knuckled feet on for about seven months now.

Not that I'm feeling bitterness towards either my coworkers or the client for being the only one left stuck inside the office.



No, I'm not bitter. Not at all.

"Why?" you ask?


You wanna know why? 'Cuz the thunder just rolled in, the lightning cracked and the heavens are spewing my revenge on those lazy bastards I work with.




↑ [ discarded by wAnderLost  |  4:59 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Muse Sick

I am a big 'smooth jazz’enthusiast. My friends call it elevator music. I tell them that it relaxes me. That it calms me down. Then I freak out and tell them all to fuck off and kick them out of my house.

Musically speaking, I’m a little bit of a schizophrenic. I like jazz, hip-hop, classical, Russian klezmer and good old fashioned porno soundtracks.

I do not like people who judge other people’s musical tastes. I wish them serious harm.

No, just kidding…heh..heh..heh…

But, judging someone’s musical preferences is a little like taking a Coke bottle and putting it in your bum. Well, okay, it’s nothing like that, but you get the picture.

Live life. Enjoy music. Drink Coke.




↑ [ discarded by rotameus  |  10:33 AM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jet-free Zone

Raisins and nuts taste good in chocolate.



↑ [ discarded by wAnderLost  |  3:15 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Good Wheel Hunting


Is it better to have good things happen when all else seems bleak - or do the good things just reinforce the bleakness?



Do you seize the opportunities to escape or is that just moving to a new hamster wheel?



Being the eternal optimist...ahem...I'm gonna go with good things being, well, good. There's enough crap floating through the air that if some of it smells good why not breathe deeply?






Um...you've got something on your nose.



↑ [ discarded by wAnderLost  |  2:55 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

...went up the hill

For a large developed North American city, we sure are a bunch of wimps.

This weekend there were 4 carjackings in Toronto.

There was widespread terror. People were seen running from their homes with all the possessions that they could carry on their person.

Children were abandoned in malls. Left crying. Left hungry.

Police were all over the news giving advice on how to avoid being carjacked. You’d think Ebola had broken out.

It’s quite a sad thing that our little world is so fragile that a gang of 4 teenaged punks can upset the balance of nearly 8 million people.

Suck it up folks. This is the real world. Scum seeps in. That’s just how it is. There is no such thing as a scum-proof city.

It’s quite ironic that one of the world’s leading manufacturers of anti-carjack systems is Canadian.

Shit, I’d love it if someone took my car. I could pay off my car loan. I’d have more disposable income. I’d save on insurance. I wouldn’t be adding to the gross smog that looms over our city.

There should be a service that connects carjackers with citizens who are looking to be carjacked.

Now THAT would be progress.



↑ [ discarded by rotameus  |  9:57 AM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Beaten

Today as I listened to Remy Shand’s whispery falsetto in my silver, Sony wrap-around MDR-G52 headphones, I found myself instinctively nodding to the beat.

This nodding, this obedience to the rhythm, is innate. Maybe it’s from the tribal drums that summoned our ancestors to the hunt. Perhaps it’s from some time when the world was quiet and we could sense nature’s pulse instead of darting through life in a frenzied daze.

Whatever the reason, perhaps it could explain why we all ‘nod’. Why we accept the often unacceptable.

Why we cheer on wars and shun those who are different. Why all we care about are the makes of our cars and the speed of our Internet connections while medical doctors drive taxis. Why we can spend hours a day watching television, but we can’t spare the time to help each other.

We just nod.

Or maybe, it’s just a good song… did you ever think of that?



↑ [ discarded by rotameus  |  1:50 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The looking glass

As I sit here on the 39th floor, looking out of my window, I realize that I haven't done one single thing related to work today. My biggest highlight, was posting future events onto my "e white-bored". .

Which then leads to me to the question, what exactly did Alice smoke as she was going down the rabbit hole?

And where can I get some? So that I can have a slight panic attack as I look down onto the ground where all the beautiful people look like feeble ants...



↑ [ discarded by Anonymous  |  4:02 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

wage rage

"twas the night before payday and all through TeeDee,
server farms were hummin', expending sal-aries.

now feebs are not savers, they like to squander and splurge,
with every bi-weekly paycheck thats purged.

pay off your visa, your amex, your bills.
but save enuf bling bling, to get "green unda gills"!

happy hump day!



↑ [ discarded by Anonymous  |  4:00 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Cheque mate

I'm not a patient person. I had to learn to enjoy long walks, as I'd prefer to just instantly be where I want to be.

MotherCorp has a Dali-esque sense of time...making it stretch and droop. This is particularly true when it comes to issuing paycheques. Don't get me wrong either...I'm more than happy to cup my hands and catch the meagre bits of overflow dropping from her greasy lips. I just wish I could do it weekly instead of bi-weekly.

In a world of instant communication and rapid transit systems, you'd think that would be enough to satisfy my impatience.

No.

I'm just more impatient.



↑ [ discarded by wAnderLost  |  5:24 PM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Short Sleeved Life

I am starting to feel old.

I went to a ‘hip’ clothing store on Saturday. Is that what the kids call them these days? Do they still say ‘hip’? Where are my pills?

Sure, I can still chew my own food and I don’t shit myself… yet.

I was intrigued by how fashion has come full circle. In particular, the mod look from England circa the 1950s is looming again. It’s the Austin Powers influence I’m sure. I’ve stopped brushing my teeth to sport an authentic English smile.

I ended up blowing $80 on a short-sleeved Ben Sherman, because it made me feel like I was a teenager again. Except for the $80 part… that part made me feel like an old dude with more cash than brains.

Hats off to the cute 18 year old salesgirl who like-totally-thought-that-one-looks-totally-cool-on-me. You can’t fool me girly. I heard you call me ‘sir’ when I walked in.

I left the store with my purchase in tote. And I’m sure I heard her giggle as I slipped on my way-cool mirrored sunglasses to brave the day.

Time is cruel.




↑ [ discarded by rotameus  |  10:48 AM ]____________________________________________________________ ___ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _