Pick Your Brain

1: Obtain knowledge from a coworker.
2: Let the other person do the thinking.

Classification: Wasting Time.

1: “Excuse me while I pick your brain,” said Dr. Frankenstein.

2: If Bob from Accounting asks to pick my brain one more time, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.

Picking someone’s brain should be left to brain surgeons, and I’m certain there are none working in a corporate office.

That someone needs to preempt a question with a warning or request to ask the question that follows, illustrates their lack of confidence in their approach. Imagine how a woman feels when a man asks for permission to ask a question. It’s like he’s grabbed his balls to remind himself that he can be a man.

I say, if you’re going to pick someone’s brain, the question is enough notice that you’re seeking their knowledge. It’s not like people have to prepare themselves to think, even if most of them aren’t all there in the first place.

What You Can Do:
Sharing knowledge helps build trust, so long as you’re not there to debate and argue. If someone is willing to answer your questions, being polite is the better route to take than telling them they’re wrong.


The Language of Work: Brainstorm

1: A meeting to discuss ideas and solutions.
2: French-fried thoughts.

Classification: Laziness.

1: You can bet that in each brainstorm, on average, only one person will do the thinking.

2: Most brainstorms leave workers’ minds deep fried and battered.

The average brainstorm produces just one worthwhile thought, usually from the same person – and it’s never the worker who organized the glamorous meeting of the minds.

There’s a great chance your boss’s ass is on the line when he has to gather a large group of workers to discuss ideas and solutions. A brainstorm shows his wealth of knowledge, and the valuable of his contributions. If he was capable of producing a useful thought, he would’ve just told you what to do, instead of relying on those people below him that earn less. These are the same kinds of people who will take credit for your idea, but only when it works.

What You Can Do:
Brainstorming is, to me, a waste of time. If the solution is going to work, why discuss it? Just make it happen. Solve the problem and move on. It’s not that difficult.

The Language of Work: Client

1: A customer that receives services from a professional.
2: A computer on a network.

Classification: People, Places, & Things.

1: Customers that need to feel special to function emotionally and mentally are called clients.

2: Workstations attached to a network are called clients.

You can call dog shit dog crap, but that doesn’t change that you still stepped in it. You know where the pile of feces exited from, and you know that it means a dog took a shit. Now, there are different types of dog crap: there’s the dry dog crap that’s a nice, healthy handful of logs; that dog crap came from a healthy dog. Then there’s the puddle of dog crap, which was left behind by a canine’s upset stomach.

The point is: changing a word does not change its meaning. Dog shit is still dog shit. Negligent owners who don’t pick up after their dog are still inconsiderate of other people’s shoes.

And while the dog can’t pick up after himself, we know that people who shit their words all over the office also don’t pick up after themselves. I’ve rarely met an office worker who picked up his verbal diarrhea left on the boardroom floor.

I want to highlight the absurdity and futility in changing one word for another, and poop jokes seemed like the best avenue to take.

The best we can hope from with a euphemism is to temporarily reduce the pain others associate with the word it softens. However, you only need to read Hans Christian Anderson fairytales to understand that an endless layer of soft language will not change the deeply held meaning behind a word of phrase.

In the Princess and The Pea, a prince tests a woman’s claims that she is a princess by having her sleep on a stack of mattresses, and underneath all of those mattresses, a single pea was placed. The woman can’t sleep through the night, claiming she’s been bruised by the pea. The prince, who denied women because they were fat, ugly, or had bad table manners, accepts the woman as a true princess, and they live happily ever after.

What this illusion translates to is that no matter how many layers of soft language we use, those who choose to feel offended by certain words will eventually feel offended by the euphemism. In other words: everyone’s a princess, and deserves unending special treatment.

This is where the Law of Familiarity comes in with language. First, we soften the word to accept the reality and reduce the pain. Second, we become comfortable with the euphemism that it becomes the norm, and the original term feels even worse. Finally, after using the euphemism for so long, its impact has been reduced, and the only thing we’re left with is the original meaning: the pain of the word furthest down the line, the one we are so afraid of hearing.

This means that, for the foreseeable future, the language in the workplace will only become softer, and softer, until enough layers have been piled on that everyone wakes up a bruised princess. Like we have now!

What You Can Do:
Don’t change your language to make things easier for others to hear. Pea soup is still pea soup, even when you remove all the flies.

Lecture – The Language of Education

1: A passive verbal presentation as an attempt to educate others.
2: A parent passing morals to their child.

Words of Wisdom; Words of Control.

1: Professor Stinkbrain’s lecture on Acrobatic Snow Shoveling took place outside the school gym, and turned into an amusing snowball fight.

2: Dad lectured me when he found out I stuffed my sister’s shoes with chicken nuggets.

Ever hear a conversation and realize the only thing people have to say is a fact they’ve read on the Internet? I hear this all the time at restaurants, usually over my shoulder while I’m reading a book – you know, those sacrilegious relics with useful knowledge?

In these conversations, it’s two or more professors lecturing each other. Each believes they’re smarter than the other, and so continue by repeating what has been said but with different words, or break into a debate over the proper use of platinum vibrators.

Rarely does one person in the conversation ask a question, and if they do, it’s rhetorical. Which is really all a debate is: one big, steaming pile of rhetorical statements and questions. This is where education fails.

Sitting passively is the least effective method to learn. You feel you’re absorbing knowledge, but when you receive one message the speaker is onto the next; your focus is broken and the pattern continues until the speaker is finished.

The education system, which is really just a series of lectures and homework, is deliberately constructed to ensure it churns out passive workers, ready to be hired for a job instead of a future.

That distinction is important: no meaningful future can be had if you’re passively accepting what others tell you to do. Employers rely on this steady supply of workers who don’t question them, which, sending a child through twelve years of passive learning, is what they’ll get.

What You Can Do:
Getting an education is important, and a lecture could be quite helpful, provided the speaker is as intelligent about the topic as he is about how he delivers.

Find interactive lectures; ones where the speaker asks questions, gets the audience involved and moving.


via Daily Prompt: Lecture

Mug of coffee with "UGH" written on it.

Free Coffee – The Language of Work

1: Cheap coffee provided by your employer.
2: A perk offered in lieu of a raise.
3: A stimulant.

Cheap Legal Drugs.

1: Free coffee is the cheapest perk, and is the kind that can’t afford shelf space at the grocery store.

2: Free coffee is a perk paid for by the annual raise you no longer receive.

4: Free coffee is a stimulant that helps you cope with coworkers.

You can tell a coworker is on the brink of a meltdown when he discovers there is no coffee in the lunch room. After begrudgingly refilling the pot, he is drawn to remind everyone that they are responsible for ensuring a steady supply of caffeinated, liquid medication.

Coffee is a multi-billion-dollar market, and Corporate America foots the bill to keep their workers running at full steam. Folks, it doesn’t take much energy to sit behind a computer for eight hours.

The real problem is poor physiology; the lack of body movement. When you sit for eight hours, you signal to your brain to slow down your metabolism, creating that tired feeling between cups of coffee.


I’ve never drank coffee. When I need energy, I can conjure it like David Copperfield. I haven’t trained my body to rely on external stimulation that is already available inside of me. I daresay, by training my mind, my psychology, I save thousands of dollars every year.

Mug of coffee with "UGH" written on it.

Learn to remove external stimulants from your diet like coffee, sugar, and crack cocaine.

Relying on external stimulants to function is the same as relying on cocaine: you teach your body it no longer has to create energy for you, and thus waits for your next cup of coffee. Furthermore, since your body relies on this external source, once your body digests the coffee, it needs another cup to feel normal.

Do you treat your lungs the same way? If you didn’t really need it, would you start breathing through a ventilator so you body doesn’t have to? It would seem absurd.

How about eating? Would you rely on some machine to force feed you? Of course not; because you’re not a baby. Even babies let their bodies tell them when to chew their food.

What You Can Do:
Learn to remove external stimulants from your diet like coffee, sugar, and crack cocaine. You’ll go through withdrawals, but as soon as you’re past all the whining, complaining, aches, and tiredness, your body will start picking up where it left off.

If you must have coffee, because you keep believing you do, then opt for the free coffee in the workplace. It may not taste as good as Starbucks, but at least you’ll save hundreds or a couple thousand dollars every year.

3 Reasons Men Who Work in an Office Lose Their Sex Drive


I cut off my balls around the age of 19 when I got my first office job. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I worked in offices for 13 years, and I hope to never return to another cesspool of abuse that inhibits a man’s testosterone. I won’t illustrate to you the castration of my body, but I will show you how working in an office has chopped off my confidence, self-esteem, and energy – three important ingredients for a man’s healthy sexy drive.

#1: Be Mine and Bend Over

The pose your body takes while sitting in a chair is the same for the doggy-style position. If you were bent over for eight hours a day, wouldn’t you feel degraded, tired, used, and abused?

Doggy-style is a submissive position that sends signals to your brain to weaken your body, lower your defenses, and be prepared to be taken advantage of. Women want a man to be strong both physically, and more importantly, emotionally. If you spend your days sitting down (bent over), you won’t be spending your nights bending her over.

#2: Bad Attitudes Are Shot Down

If you believe getting lucky is real, then I have news: there’s a science to meeting a woman and screwing her brains out within an hour. If I knew the exact steps, you’d bet I’d be rich by now I’d keep them to myself.

One thing is certain: you must be in a positive state of mind to get a woman to even want to be around you for long enough to make your move.

Women detect negativity long before you approach, feeling it as soon as they enter a room. Ever see two women walk to a bar together, plop their purses on the counter, and let out a lengthy, synchronized sigh? That’s because they’ve just left the office, where they’ve been surrounded by negativity and men who have no balls.

The negative attitude you’re picking up from the office comes from both the language abuse you endure in the name of political correctness, and the drain on your energy from sitting down for eight hours. If you keep your body still long enough, rigor mortis sets in. It’s the third stage of death, where the only limb that won’t stay stiff is the important one.

#3: Die, Die, Mr. Nice Guy

No woman wants to walk away from a flirtatious encounter wondering, “Was there something wrong with me?” You can either choose to keep your mouth shut like most guys, or stop being a pussy and take a chance.

Nobody likes Mr. Nice Guy – especially women, and the office is full of them. That’s because workplace policies are geared toward castrating employees into servants, where they change their language and behavior so as not to offend others.

Mr. Nice Guy is more offensive though. By not taking a chance, you’re telling the woman that either something is wrong with her, or you’re just a vagina. Either way, she won’t be attracted to you.

Once you’ve regained your balls, rid yourself of negativity, it’s time to stop apologizing and pleasing others. Add some level of selfishness, and be willing to be labeled as an asshole. Demonstrate that you care about yourself, and once you do, women will see that you are capable of caring for them, too.

They Sold Us Dreams

They sold us dreams. They sold us dreams so they could get what they wanted, and convinced us to want what they were willing to give.

I’m from a generation that doesn’t want big toys. We don’t want a home in suburbia that looks like the rest. We despise minivans and trophies for showing up. We don’t want to raise a nuclear family on this waste they have left us.

We are human, last time I checked. We prefer not to be castrated for a difference of opinion, one not rooted in bigotry or grown from misguided hatred.

The world that has been built cannot sustain the human spirit. It is built to bind that which creates into submission for a few dreams. We are working to ruin these so-called pillars of strength that have only sought to uphold the Big Dream.

We fear not the failure to achieve our dreams, but that we will not eat, have a place to sleep, and health to live. We decide not to turn to a life of crime, yet the expectation of our dedication to the Big Dream eats away at the energy of this experience we call life.

This is my experience.

I know what it’s like to live a life without work, without income, for fifteen months. It’s not fun eating just oatmeal every day for four months, nor is it healthy. When you have just ten dollars in the bank, and everyone ignores your attempts to find work, your career filtered through some algorithm because a lazy ass employer can’t be bothered to actually read your application and resume… you hate everything.

Thirteen of those fifteen months I spent virtually alone in one room. Writing. Writing my fucking heart and soul out. People responded to it… people I never met, and will never meet. The people I did know didn’t give a fuck. All they wanted was for me to go back to working a miserable job and shut up.

Desperation set in, sure, but my love for writing has never wavered. I am a writer and I believe I have always been. Artwork is fun, but it’s not the most fulfilling for me.

Two and a half years into the job I have now, and I do not feel any closer to my goal of being a full-time writer and author. I’m not even a part time writer. I’ve never had a paying writing gig.

I’m on the fifth draft of my novel, which already has a sequel, and I’m finding it hard to write, for that constant feeling of, even if I do accomplish it, nobody’s going to read it. Like the last four times I’ve tried.

I just want to do what I love without being sick, in poverty, and without a place to sleep. Sure, I’m doing well financially, but at the cost to my time, freedom, and life. The only reason I stay up late is to actually have time to myself. I’m sacrificing my time, for who? It certainly doesn’t seem to be me.

The Electric Car Buzz

martooni-girly-300pxDo you like your buzz and drink your booze like it’s water? I bet you’d love to know that in the not too distant future your drink of choice will experience a price reduction, allowing you to consume more of this American dietary staple. And this comes from an unlikely source: electric cars.

You may ask how an electric car would fuel a surge in the alcoholic beverage industry. It will be done through a systematic reduction in resource usage and an increase in tax breaks, all while tapping into this generation’s never ending love to be environmentally friendly and economically irresponsible.

Once electric vehicles dominate the market, the oil industry will have to scale back gasoline production. Since ethanol is an ingredient in both alcohol and clean burning gasoline, the drastic drop in demand will send prices falling faster than your best friend on St Patty’s Day. Following the laws of supply and demand, ethanol becomes a buyer’s market, one the makers of Coors and Bud Light will no doubt saturate, making it easier for consumers to satisfy their thirst. Feel free to get your buzz on and celebrate the death of the internal combustion engine.

Electric cars are destined to drive themselves, giving brewers every incentive to invest in the technological advancement of artificial intelligence. Not only does artificial intelligence reduce drunk driving accidents, it also reduces the need for intelligence amongst drivers. A bet on a computer to drive three thousand pounds of steel is a good bet for us all.

For the people in this generation who like to call government handouts a means to support society, feel free to know that several tax breaks, incentives, and reduction in expenditures for local law enforcement, are on their way. With lower drunk driving incidents, you’ll see a smaller police force and reduced enrollment of DUI and traffic schools, freeing up funds, likely to pay for rehab.

Whatever will the police do after last call? Maybe they’ll look for real criminals, such as this generation’s sick pedophiles, murderers, and arrest those baby boomers who stole social security to fuel their wild retirements. Remember, don’t trust anyone over fifty.

Lastly, on a sad note, you may lose a friend along the way to advancing society’s plunge into the drowning pool. Sacrifices will be made when your designated drinker remains sober against the new wave of automated alcohol, refusing to binge and purge with the rest of the party. Who needs a sane, coherent friend, anyway? Many of us aren’t there ourselves.

Running on the Sidewalk: Downhill Edition

Running on the Sidewalk: Downhill Edition

  1. Find a high hill within your neighborhood. Dead-ends work best. Make sure there is a sidewalk that goes up high enough you can’t see the houses at the top.
  2. Wear your best sneakers, preferably non-slip running shoes.
  3. Hike up the hill, or hitch a ride with the nearest car to drive by in that general direction.
  4. Study the road below, taking in the curvature near the end at the first crossroad.
  5. Start running.
  6. Jump over every block of concrete that has one of those small, metal rivets. It’s usually every third or fourth.
  7. Keep running.
  8. Push aside anyone walking in your path; you’ve got somewhere to go, and it’s important that you get there before they do.
  9. Keep on running. You’re almost there.
  10. Never mind the hard pounding of your feet. It’s only a natural side-effect of gravity and velocity.
  11. When you reach the cross roads, try to stop abruptly at the corner of the sidewalk. Grab hold of the stop sign if you can. If there is no stop sign, throw yourself on the ground. Remember, stop drop and roll is for more than just fires.

In the event that you fall forward, avoid placing your palms ahead of you. Tuck and roll, firmly pushing your knees to your chest. Studies have shown that those who fall on the sidewalk are ten-times more likely to avoid scars if they assume the fetal position.

Big Picture Show

There was once a time in my life where I cared about society’s problems. I felt a debate was worth it. And I should do my part and voice my opinion. However, through my twenties, I confirmed my suspicion that giving a shit about the big picture is a complete and utter waste of time.

I don’t care about drug use. I don’t care if athletes use steroids and their neck explodes. Not my mess to clean up. Feel free to legalize weed, crack, and meth. Not only will it bring us good entertainment on the morning news, it will let the species sort out the weak minded as they crash and burn harder and faster. If we want a real debate if evolution is real, I say, let’s witness it first-hand.

I don’t care about the privacy debate. If it means they get what they want, people will give information to the highest bidder or lowest cost alternative. Concerning Apple’s stance to refuse decryption of the iPhone of a dead terrorist: I don’t give a fuck. He’s dead. Justice has been served in the proper manner. He fought the law, and the law won. No further answers need to be.

The media and lawyers have convinced people that closure can only be achieved through a thorough understanding of the criminal mind. I don’t give a shit about the mind of a pedophile, a murderer, an arsonist, or anything else. In case you haven’t been tracking the news over the past thirty years, but this sad attempt at solving a bigger problem – preventing crime itself – is a complete waste of time. This attempt to understand, to know more, is worthless. Take a page from the old West: shoot first and ask questions later.