Don’t mess with THE BLUE WALL!

Posted in Uncategorized on March 2, 2012 by DJ D

The wellspring of idiocy at my day job is never ending. Throughout the history of this blog, I have documented it here and here, but recently I’ve found that it’s taken a new form; that of the daily morning e-mail from my boss. I first bestowed this electronic pile of brain diarrhea on the world in this post, and today I have returned for a new segment. Since that last post, I’ve changed bosses. I assumed that this would mean an end to e-mails that seem as though they’re written by someone who speaks English as a second language, but I couldn’t be more wrong. Apparently, being promoted into that position takes you down to a 3rd grade reading level. Either that, or they’re not exactly hiring from the brightest end of the employment pool. Either way, I present to you, yet another e-mail full of stupid. As always, this is copy/pasted exactly as it appeared. I have not altered it in any way in regards to spelling or “grammar”.

“Going forward team, on the blue walls of your desk the only thing allowed is your name plate, monthly calender, our top priorities sheet, and your EXT #.
This is for BLUE WALL ONLY!

The White Wall you may hang your personal things on as long as it is appropriate and the appearance of your white wall is needs to be neat.

Also everyone needs to ensure that there is no trash in there desk
This includes empty soda cans, candy wrappers, and trash in general.
Every ones desk much be clean and clear when leaving for the day.

Thank you

Smith”

As you can see, I work for a fascist regime that will haul you out back and beat you within in an inch of your life if you hang anything personal on the sacred BLUE WALL. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, DON’T FUCK WITH THE BLUE WALL. This entire operation will collapse into chaos! Dead rising from the grave! Seas boiling! Dogs and cats…living together…mass hysteria!

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Caffeinated Wisdom on the Restroom Wall

Posted in Uncategorized on February 16, 2012 by DJ D

Most everyone reading this knows that I have a weekly radio show on WUSC 90.5 FM called Dark Entries: Goth Radio. It airs every Saturday night from 8-10pm (eastern) and can be heard streaming live on the WUSC site. Tune in and you can hear me play all kinds of spooky music and movie clips and generally embarrass myself. The station is in Columbia, SC, where I went to school and used to live. I’m crashing somewhere else these days (temporarily), and have to drive in to do the show once a week. This means an hour and a half drive. My weekly tradition lately is to drive in, stop by Chick-Fil-A, grab a combo and eat it in the studio before I hit the airwaves. So, if you’ve ever heard the show, what you may occasionally hear is me slurping on a diet lemonade in between song announcements. That is if I actually went to Chick-Fil-A. If I didn’t go there, it was because I hit up the bar first. Sometimes I stop by The Hunter Gatherer up the street for a few bourbon and cokes before I do my thing, so if you luck out, on any given night you might be entertained by DJ Slush. This has resulted in a few creative song choices as well as the occasional drunk dial.

If I don’t go to the bar before hand, I occasionally hit it up afterward instead. During the show, I’m participating in a fun chat in the comments thread on the Dark Entries: Goth Radio Facebook Page, which is where I also post the playlists for the show the day after. The discussion that takes place during the show has lately become an interactive part of the show itself, and if you’re not joining in that, you’re missing out. It always continues after the show is over, usually while I’m sitting at the bar and posting from my phone.

Why do I mention any of this, aside from using it an excuse to plug my show? Don’t judge me. A fella’s gotta hustle. It’s my way of setting up what happened last weekend. After the show, I headed off to have a few. I did, and then got the notion that I had a craving for some coffee. Mocha, to be more specific. Deej loves him some mocha. And bourbon. I have to work on combining those.

So, I headed off to Cool Beans, a coffee shop where I actually worked while in college. It used to be called Cafe Espresso (we referred to it as Cafe Depresso), but some genius decided to rename it Cool Beans after he bought it out. As Johnny Cash once said, I still hate that name.

So, I strolled in and ordered my usual. It’s called The Perfect Woman and involves coffee, chocolate, more chocolate, and whip cream. The little things floating on top are chocolate disks that slowly sink to the bottom and melt along the way, thus infusing it with even more caffeinated joy. I want one right now.

After picking up my cup of jitters, I set about hitting the road and making the 90 mile drive back home. As you can imagine, 2 bourbon and cokes and a giant cup of Perfect Woman later, and nature started to call. I saw a gas station way off the interstate that I had never been to before, and headed into the restroom. I immediately spotted this sign:

I will say the walls were completely clean. Then I saw the sink.

And the toilet

Then I went for the paper towels. That was when I saw the only bit of graffiti in the entire room:

The Good Mourning Team has a Sweater Day

Posted in Uncategorized on February 2, 2012 by DJ D

First off, I’d like to say that I am not making a vow to write more. Not going to do it. The reason is, every time I make some great proclamation that I’m going to do something and commit to it this time (write more blogs, go to the gym, lay off the soda, etc), I flake out on it approximately 7 minutes after announcing it to the world. But, I’ve found that if I just do it, make no promises, and don’t talk about it at all, it just gets done. So, this is me, not promising anything, but instead, finding myself coming up with a lot of ideas lately and an intense desire to rattle off something at least once or twice a week. That’s the goal. Nope. I take that back. Not a goal. Just something that’s likely to happen. If Rev. Back It On Up 13 can write 37 posts a day, there’s no reason why I can’t do something around here.

So, that being said (in a long winded fashion), here’s what I’d like to discuss today. I work with a bunch of morons. I don’t like to discuss my day job too much with the rest of the world, but it involves a lot of technology, a lot of nerds, and a lot of stress. And a boss who, while he manages quite a few people and has a position full of responsibility, is apparently allergic to Spell Check. Also, he’s been walking with a weird, lumbering limp lately, and I’m not sure what that’s about. Oh, and not too far from me sits a pre-op transgendered person who frequently loses his or her temper and has been given a stern talking-to on more than one occasion about yelling and throwing things. Yeah, that’s just a taste of the sideshow I’m dealing with up there.

The following are excerpts from e-mails and memos that have been sent out over the past week or so. If this looks bad, don’t even get me started on the spreadsheets. Btw, these appear exactly as I received them. I have not altered them in any way, be it with spelling, punctuation, or lack thereof.

“Good Mourning Team I will be bringing around a updated product liability handout with a sign off sheet showing that it is attached. Tomorrow will be sweater day so if you want to dress down where your favorite sweater to work…Lets make sure we take every step to be successful no short cuts.”

“Good Mourning Team Today is the start of a new month so we need to make sure that we our focus we can’t afford to put our self in the hold this month. QA is a must that we past this month we all our accountable there is no reason we can’t follow the steps to past QA. As you all know we have the agent bonus payout scale still going so keep in mind that extra money is still on the line team.”

After reading over this, I can’t get my mind off what a “Good Mourning Team” might be. I have no idea, but I’d like to put one together. Sounds like my idea of a good time. I’m sure Jugendsehnsucht would be down for it.

Oh no. I just figured it out. Boss Limpypants is actually my mystery texter from a couple of years ago.

Sweater Day Icy Entertainment?

Kerosene Bot

Posted in Uncategorized on January 25, 2012 by DJ D

Tonight after work, I drove out of my way to go to a gas station and take this picture, because I think it’s one of the coolest robots I’ve ever seen. No, not a kerosene pump. A ROBOT. And I won’t let anyone tell me different.

I Can’t Go Shopping Anymore

Posted in Uncategorized on January 20, 2012 by DJ D

Grocery shopping has become problematic lately. I hate shopping anyway. Clothes shopping, grocery shopping, shopping for anything. I know what I’m after, I get in, and I get the hell out. It’s a Y-chromosome thing. But I realized the other night that late night grocery shopping at Wal-Mart is a whole different kind of adventure. Recently my day job became a night job (change of hours) and then a day job again, but I still don’t get off till nearly 8:00pm. The other night after I got off work, I had a few errands to run and then decided to stop by Wally World to pick up some groceries. As much as I hate to support that particular bastion of American excess and ugliness, it’s the only place in town where I can get a pound of hamburger meat (and not that cheap, 30% fat crap) for under $4.00.

One of the things I needed to get was spaghetti sauce. Can someone please tell me at what point did shopping for spaghetti sauce become like shopping for cough syrup? There’s like 627 types of sauce out there.

I stood there staring at the shelves like a gaping mouthed moron trying to decide which way I was going to go. Do I want mushroom? Garlic? Mushroom and garlic? Onions? No onions? Italian herbs? Regular herbs? No herbs? There was even one jar proclaiming in a big, wavy banner on the front that it was “Marinara”. Isn’t it all marinara? I ended up going with what sounded the best to me: garlic. You can never go wrong with garlic. I’d never make it as a vampire. I’d put garlic on my Frosted Mini-Wheats if I had half a nerve.

Going through the checkout line was another exercise in awkward. You usually have plenty of down time when you’re going through the checkout line at a Wal-Mart because despite the fact that they have 27 lines in the place, they never have more than 3 open at any given time. This results in plenty of time to pretend like you’re not looking in the cart in front of you. But you know you are. The guy in front of me was shopping for nothing more than 7 packs of boxers. That’s it. Just 7 packs of undies, 3 to a pack. What was that situation all about? Was it just time for a general re-stock/replacement? Had his laundry gotten stolen somewhere? You know what, I’m calling it. Anything other than those 2 explanations is going to be weird. Anything. Those are the only ones I’m accepting. Although I’m dying to know. And you know you are too.

So that was the story with “guy in front of me in line”. But I know you’re dying to know what was going on with “girl behind in me line”. Sometimes when I go to the grocery store, I’m not just shopping for pork chops. I’ll admit that I’m “checking out the scenery”. But I can’t flirt with a girl when she’s got a buggy (I’m in the South and that’s what we call them down here) full of groceries. I have a constant fear that I will glance into her buggy and see what she’s got. And I just know that in my attempt to look at her and smile, while glancing quickly at her buggy, it will be on the one day that’s she’s out shopping for “special lady products”. And now suddenly we’ve gone from having a cute story to tell at our wedding reception one day about how we met at the grocery store to me just being the weird pervy guy who made her feel uncomfortable because in between awkward grins, I was staring at her uh…you know…stuff. So, I gave the buggy a once-over when I was sure she wasn’t looking, and then flashed her a polite smile and a look dead in the eye that said, “I’m just being polite because we looked at each other for a fraction of a second, but I’ll hold it just a little longer just in case…See anything you like here?…No? Ok, well the guy with all the boxers is done now, so I guess I’m up. Oh, and after I pay and I’m about to walk away and you’re bending over your buggy to put everything on the counter, I’m probably going to be checking our your ass. Just thought I’d give you a heads up. Later.” God, my awkward smiles don’t know when to shut up.

One last thing. As I was heading out the door, I overheard the following conversation: A lady was stooped over a trash can and digging in it. An elderly man was just walking in and she looked up and asked him if he could help her because she, and I quote, “dropped her $12 bill in there.” Part of me wanted to stick around for a couple of seconds to see how this played out, but I just kept on walking to the car. I’d dealt with enough already.

The Ross Scale

Posted in Uncategorized on December 4, 2011 by DJ D

This is a place holder. I realized the other day that I’ve been lazy lately and have ignored this place at a time when one should not be ignoring blogs. I mean, it’s nearly Christmas for crying out loud. It’s not like I don’t have things to talk about. So, before I start going off on decorations, music, and that fat pervert who still owes me a G1 Soundwave, I’ll give you this early Christmas present: The story of how DJ D lost his game.

By “game”, I mean my ability to pull the ladies. Now, don’t get me wrong. I do alright, but even I have my off days. Friday was one of those days. What follows is my account of my failed attempt to “dip my pen in the company ink”, as it were.

I was standing in line behind this cute girl at work the other day in the cafeteria. It was taco day. I noticed she had a bow in her hair that had a skull in the middle of it. I’ve also noticed her around. After staring at it for a few minutes, I said something like, “Hey, I like your skull.” For some god-awful reason, I felt the need to point at my skull as I said it.

“Oh, uh, ok…thanks”. She turned back around.

A few minutes pass by and I realize that she probably thought some weirdo just complimented her on her actual skull. So, I decided to dig the hole deeper clarify.

“I meant, I like your bow thing…with the little skull.”

“Oh, thanks.” She turns back to the taco meat.

More time passes.

“I mean, not that your skull’s not nice too. I’m sure it’s fine. I just didn’t want you to think I was talking about it. But the skull’s nice too. I mean, the real one…And the bow.” By this point, I can see the look in her eyes is saying that she really wishes that this line would move a little faster.

“Your hair’s nice…”

Oh, the humanity. Someone just make it stop.

All I could think about was the time Ross flirted with the pizza girl and I tried to grade what I was going through on a scale of Worse Than Ross or Better Than Ross. She ended up just ordering a side of rice. I don’t know if that was her plan all long or if she abandoned tacos altogether in an attempt to just get out of there faster. At least I wasn’t talking about gas.

The 2011 Halloween Punkin Carving!

Posted in Uncategorized on November 2, 2011 by DJ D

By the time you read this, Halloween will have been over for over a full day and then some, and I will be curled up in the bed that sits behind me as I type this, dreaming of Alison Brie and strawberries. But for the next few minutes, I’m fulfilling a promise to myself that before this season was over, I would write my yearly punkin carving post. Sure, I’m getting it in a little over the wire, but who gives a care. Yesterday was Halloween and in my mind, it’s still the season of the witch until I hit the sack…at 5:00am on Nov. 2nd.

And so, since I’m trying to get this knocked out as quick as possible, and because I decided to make the ridiculous decision to combine all my pictures into neat little squares, I’m just going to get on with the show. Somehow I had it stuck in my head that since I started this blog in 2008, that I had written a pumpkin carving post every year. Right now is where I would have included a link to each of them. Turns out I only did it that one time. Samhain and lack of sleep can have a weird affect on your brains.

Right, so just like last time (and all those other times that I thought I wrote about), my punkin carving ritual involves me going over to my cousin’s house, me drawing up some super complicated design that takes me forever, and my cousin just taking a giant knife to his and hacking the crap out of it after only 5 minutes. And yes, my victim here was old Stemmy that I discussed in the last post.

So here’s the picture show. Mine is the pointy toothed, grinny one, and his is the one with triangle eyes and square teeth. I’d elaborate, but I’ve got pictures to resize and insert and I’m starting to nod off over here.

I even made a little vidja! If you listen close, you can hear my cousin yelling something in the background a couple of times.

This post was supposed to be even longer. I took a total of 15 pics that were going to be involved, some of which were taken at my workplace involving severed limbs, a chainsaw, copious amounts of fake blood, and enough spider webs to keep Party City in business. But, I think I’ve made it clear exactly how late it is. So, in the interest of brevity, just use your imaginations and picture a haunted house throwing up all over a bunch of cubicles, lit by stale neon lights, and you’ll get the picture.

I will leave you with one final image though. I was recruited to participate in a punkin carving contest. I lost and I’ll forever be bitter about it. It might just be my someone-stole-my-stapler-for-the-last-time-and-I’m-going-to-burn-down-the-building moment. They actually had a 15 point system by which they judged them, and I got 2 out of 15 points. Two. Two fucking points. For this.

Whatever. Hey, I’m about to hit post on this thing and it’s 5:00am, Nov. 2nd. You know what Nov. 2nd is?…

MY BIRTHDAY!!! Gaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!