I Don't Get It: Michael Jackson

Three days ago that guy was still a batshit insane pedophile, right? What changed?

I mean, he definitely sang some killer songs 30 fucking years ago, but is that worth canonization?

I've never gotten the mega-obsession people develop with guys like Jackson, Elvis, and even The Beatles. I love The Beatles. My wife has everything they've ever released. If Ringo drops dead tomorrow am I going to show up at the hospital weeping with a sign? No.

At least I got to hear "ABC" and "Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough" three or four times today.


Dream Analysis

So last night in my dreams Amy Poehler gave me some acid and we went into a roller disco. Inside Michael Busch was wearing an elf suit and roaming around absent-mindedly. I tried talking to him but he was out of it. The next thing I know the Six Flags Guy comes screaming by on a sled (made sense in the dream) but I hate that guy so I grabbed him and threw him into a wall. Amy said I had to leave because I had broken his back and killed him. She didn't say it in a mean way, though. More like, "Alright, well, time to get going."

I think that means today's going to be good.


Office Safari Guide: Issue 3

Today's Office Safari Guide focuses on an elusive quarry. It's not that they're rare in the office; it's just that once they're spotted it's usually a brief matter of time until they're forcibly removed from the premises. I speak of course of the Colossal Screw Up.

"Hey, real quick: What's Microsoft Word again?"

His last job was driving a forklift at a meat packing plant, but he knows a guy who knows a guy so now he's your team leader on the Sales floor, despite apparently never encountering a computer before. It can be tough to spot a Colossal Screw Up in the wild since they take great pains not to be discovered. But eventually their idiocy boils over and you'll realize you're dealing with a person who might not even know what it is the company does. Luckily (not for you), management will be at least six to 10 months behind you on this discovery.

He's late. His clothes are wrinkled. His hair is never combed and he's high pretty regularly. You made the mistake of befriending him your first day at work because you thought he was being nice, but he just wanted to borrow cash for lunch. And he routinely does things like attempting to de-frag his hard drive with a screwdriver and putting bologna in his printer. He's a nice enough guy, but you just know being in his vicinity is going to end in disaster.

But what to do? It's not like he's a jerk, so when he (repeatedly) asks for help you don't want to just stonewall him and be an asshole, but you can't dedicate five hours of your day to helping him figure out how to turn off his screen saver, either. You want to rat him out, but your coworkers all say he's a nice enough guy and you don't want to screw somebody out of a job just because they don't deserve it. So keep a low profile and avoid being seen with the Colossal Screw Up. And understand that the day you pay for his lunch is the day before he'll get fired and you'll never get your money back.


Office Safari Guide: Issue 2

Today's Office Safari Guide will focus on an animal that may possibly be related to the Know-It-All Douchebag, but has evolved into a new and separate species. I speak of the Done-It-All Douchebag.

Climbed it this morning on my way in to work!

The Done-It-All-Douchebag is on the verge of becoming a black hole of smug self-centeredness. The instant an event or topic is discussed, he (or she) must immediately launch a story about how back in the day that was all he used to do.

If you suspect your office has a Done-It-All Douchebag, here's a simple test to confirm: casually mention within earshot of the suspect that you have won a contest and the prize is a trip into outer space. If you've got a Done-It-All, he'll immediately leap into the conversation and begin telling you how to act and what to wear since, naturally, he was there last year. Back when it was still cool.

He's been a cop. And a movie producer. And a local politician, storm chaser, nude model, CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation, panhandler, goat farmer, Eskimo, nuclear physicist, and superhero. He's also 24 years old.

You can try calling him out on his bullshit, but he's so wrapped up in denial that he's become self-delusional at this point and believes most of what he says, mainly because he practices it in the mirror each morning. He'll quickly find the slowest and most easily impressed members of your office and cement himself as "the cool guy" in that band of misfits. And I say let him have it. You don't want to eat lunch with those mouth-breathers anyway.


Shameless Self Promotion

Check out my latest Zug article, The Twit of the Week! It's a new column I'll be running weekly where I follow the most inane celebrities I can find and pick apart their tweets for your enjoyment.

Take a look! Register at Zug and post your comments! And don't forget to send me ideas for other celebs or just plain insane people I should find on Twitter!

Office Safari Guide: Issue 1

Now that I'm working in an office again I'm forced to encounter all sorts of personalities I normally wouldn't because, to be honest, I'd avoid them like the plague. Today we're spotlighting the first of those: The Know-it-all Office Douchebag.

Fuck you. I know everything.

The Know-it-all Douchebag believes he has acquired every piece of information ever to exist because, well, he used to barback at this totally awesome club and all kinds of people talked about all kinds of shit there. Seriously dude, like scientists and shit. And I say "he" for brevity's sake, but women are completely and totally capable of being this fucking annoying.

A lack of any real secondary education (sure, he might've ATTENDED a college, but he was too busy getting his "real-world education" at Skanky McShithole's Bar & Grill to pay much attention) coupled with the righteous naivete typically reserved for the YouTube comment boards means this guy heard something about what you're saying, and all he knows is you are wrong because his source had to be right.

So how do you spot a Know-it-all Douchebag versus a person who's just combative or a blatant asshole? Simple: any time the Know-it-all Douchebag is correcting you (hint: it's all the time) he will engage in schoolyard debate tactics in an attempt to lend credibility to his argument. Be prepared to hear a lot of "Well, duh," "Are you even serious," "You don't know anything man," "I guarantee you, man...I guarantee you," and "Yeah? Well I'm pretty sure I know what I'm talking about." This will also be combined with copious amounts of rolled eyes, heavy sighs, and exasperated tossing of hands toward the heavens.

Unfortunately, if your office has any sort of policy against violence towards co-workers, there's no real satisfactory way to deal with these guys. You can attempt to avoid subjects on which you could argue, but these pathetic creatures are so desperate to prove their superiority that eventually they'll question if you even know your own phone number ("Scienctists say that 84% of people can't even remember it, dude. It's true.") and you'll be forced into a conversation with them.

So far, the only method I've found mildly successful is to blurt out, "I'm probably wrong then," and briskly walk away from the conversation while your opponent shouts for you to come back.


Bad News Bears

Woah. We lost like 15-2. It was ugly, and I didn't even get a hit. I did however get to pitch, since our pitcher bailed for the third time in five games. And as I watched ball after ball sail over batters' heads and go rolling behind our catcher who was too afraid to catch the ball, I realized it might be a long day. The ump, for some reason, didn't seem to like us or just blew a lot of calls in the other team's favor, which is always frustrating. It's one thing to get destroyed; it's worse when you get destroyed and wronged by softball justice.

It was pretty awesome when our shortstop tried to throw a ball at the (female) umpire's head though.