PSA

Hey good peeps!

Psychotic Secretary is undergoing maintenance at present - we will be up again in July and available for all. Seriously, we won't even make you take your shoes off to come in!

* "we" = "me"

Today's Grievance

The Uberlord likes lists. He has a serious "thing" for lists. It must be the sexy columns of text in 10pt. Times New Roman that gets his juices flowing. Or maybe it's the grid-free layout or the heavily shaded title columns. The man has a hard-on for lists. And the lists are always changing.

I'm pretty sure any day soon he will request a list of all his lists so he doesn't get confused, at which point I will print out every list on my hard drive, compile them into one mondo-document in a giant 5" plastic binder and beat him over the head with it.

Then I might make him a list of all the local hospitals.

Seriously though, anyone using Times New Roman out of choice should have boiling oil poured on their Netherlands. It's not a sexy font. It's a default, ugly, plain fault. It's like that boring nougat centered chocolate that's always left last in the box. It's the last kid picked for the dodgeball team. I will allow Arial if you MUST, but please. Have some respect. Times New Roman is for losers. Verdana is perfectly acceptable for a plain, everyday fault - clean, sans-serif, pleasing on the eye. Century Gothic works and Tahoma is ok and Trebuchet is pretty for a plain font. If you must have a serif go with Georgia or something. Or get old school freaky with some Courier New just to mess with people's heads. Get a life people! Times New Roman is the Devil's font.

And by "Devil" I totally mean Uberlord.

You know what happens to people who use Times New Roman every day? They end up writing blog entries about fonts. Let this be a lesson.

No, there is no chart today. You are SO demanding!

Attentiones!

I'm still alive. Kind of. Just not inspired! Inspire me, damnit.

* Also, I'm being bad over at the 'Stache today. Come on over! There's free beer. And like...little cocktail sausages on sticks.

Memorial Day

Hey there American peoples! It's Memorial Day (not to be confused with "Mammorial Day" which occurs only in porn). It is a day to not be at work - gets full points right there, really - and remember stuff. I'm not sure what stuff but I think it's to do with wars and servicemen and veterans and people no longer with us and I probably should not make light of it at all, however, since this is me and I don't see a blue moon, I probably will anyway.

Here are some random things I remember:

The time the Evil Queen and myself superglued Mr. Panty Waist's stapler to his desk so he had to staple all day at a really weird angle.

One afternoon spent drinking red, white and blue margaritas on July 4th and having a blue tongue the rest of the day

Hiding from Daleks when I was little.

Driving in a convertible over the Golden Gate Bridge on a sunny day

Living here in lower Manhattan on September 11th 2001

Getting drunk before my band played a show, tripping over a cord and falling off the stage onto my ass (And no, I don't have a donkey)

The first time I got on my moped I accidentally twisted the grip and shot across the road into a fence at the speed of light. Well, OK, 30MPH. It FELT fast. The only thing injured was my dignity. And the framed photo of Bill O'Reilly I carry with me at all times. Well one of those things, anyway.

Would you like a pie for Memorial Day? Your wish is my command. Here's one I just baked especially.

Lady of Leisure

I called in sick to work today and I'm not really sick! What a rebel of society, ladies and gentlemen! I live on the edge, let me tell you.

OK, so technically I do have a headache and cramps too (you don't have to read that part, gentlemen, oh wait, you already did!) so that sort of constitutes being "sick", no? It's also pissing down with rain in New York City and that's reason enough for me. I'd hate to get wet. "I'm melting, I'm meeeeeelting..."

Plus, my good entertainment buddy isn't around today to keep me busy and laughing in an Uberlord-free work day and what am I supposed to do - entertain myself? Pffft! Not damn likely.

What I'm going to do is, go back to bed in about five minutes for a nap, get up, eat lunch (grilled cheese sounds pretty good), do something productive (I haven't decided what yet, ok, I'm working on it.) and maybe have another nap for balance. What a happy, rested and delightfully sane Guv'ner I will be by the day's end at which time I will proceed to procure snacks and alcohol and watch stuff that's been piling up on my DVR since November, while sprawling on the couch. Ah good times. Uberlord free, fancy good times.

Admit it, you're all jealous of my leisurely day aren't you?

I might fit caffeine in somewhere. And possibly beer. You know, at different times...

I'd make a pie chart to demonstrate all this but you know what? I can't be assed. You'll live.

Do Not Fuck With The Guv'ner

I am what you might call "severely awake" today, which is a) scary, b) unusual on a weekday for me (or indeed any day if we're being honest here) and c) is good for me - bad for everyone else, because this means I will get up to no good, attack all your blogs with ridiculous comments and might even attempt some work! Yes, really!

Talking of work, I've been trying to pull this meeting together for weeks that involves ten people all situated in different parts of the world. Naturally, all these people are 'muy importado' and expect the meeting to revolve around their particular needs, forgetting everyone else involved is equally important and absolutely as needy. This always turns into one ginormous clusterfuck of nuclear proportions filled with passive aggressive office politics that makes me want to take everyone out back, line them up against the wall and shoot them in the head. Quite honestly, I'd get more done if they were all lying in a pool of blood in the courtyard. Well let's face it, I wouldn' t have to schedule that meeting for a start.

Ok, I maybe wouldn't kill them but I'd definitely enjoy tasering (tasing?) their genitals.

I'd spare this one guy though. This guy, no matter when I email everyone for information or to give instructions for something - no matter what it is, this one guy always responds promptly with the exact information required. He's like a ninja, with his finger on the pulse. No sooner does my email drop onto his inbox than his finger is on the dial to call me or he fires back a response. That guy is awesome. Or in love with me, I don't know.

Oh wait, I just saw my crazy hair in the mirror and conclude that no, he's definitely just diligent.

He's the only one though. I have to threaten to castrate people or boil their babies to get answers normally. Or people contact me giving totally the wrong information that I didn't ask for.

And of course when people do respond correctly, none of them actually ever AGREE on a date or time or location. So it's pointless. A bit like this blog entry. Well not pointless exactly, there IS a chart:

Not HERE, Over THERE!

Happy weekend day of not being at work (I hope!) people! I just popped online to point all you fine people over HERE today, since it's that time of the month again. No, not THAT time of the month, you filthy beast. I mean I'm being typically obnoxious for the Mustache.

Come join in the fun!

Brain Melt

My brain is so fried today that I managed to book a conference call for participants in NY and London for 8:30am London time with the smug knowledge that “With the five hour time difference that’s 1:30pm New York time and everyone will be happy!”

And they were.

Until two hours later when we all remembered that London is actually five hours AHEAD and I’d actually booked the call for 3:30AM in NYC, which caused decidedly LESS hilarity. Ha! Much as it thrills me to think of these hosers having to get out of bed in the middle of the night to talk about brand marketing and other scintillating subjects of that ilk, I think I prefer breathing without a respirator, so I reluctantly changed it to something more reasonable (and boring). Bah.

I also had to edit a presentation which involved me inserting a pie chart. I think you all know my affinity for pie charts by now, although the one I did today was infinitely less fun than the ones I normally produce for this blog. I always think a slice of any pie chart should be reserved for “Who cares?” because they’re always concerned with the most banal facts or figures ever - the sort of thing that if you read it in paragraph form would turn you glassy-eyed and homicidal in moments. My theory is, that’s the only reason anyone uses pie charts at all – to break the monotony of a bunch of typed figures with some pretty colors and gay abandon.

Plus they make you think about warm apple pie and custard which is never a bad thing. Although that might just be me… Mmmmm pie.

The Guv'ner Is Not Insane

Due to a lull in proceedings today I have messed around a lot. I know, it's NOT like me and thanks for noticing.

My Gmail account today had a header at the top of the page with the link to a quiz called "Are You Insane?" I have no idea why they thought to place that there because normally those headers are related to the stuff entering your inbox and your basic personality.

I figure that the thing that enters my inbox most, apart from enticements about making my tallywhacker bigger and 'cease and desist' orders, are comments from you people, hence where the "insane" part comes in. Thanks a lot people! Now I have a reputation at gmail for being slightly south of barking mad. At least it replaced the blurbs about Afroman that were there before. Believe me you don't want to know the reasoning behind that...

Naturally, I had to try this quiz, if only to prove I am clearly not insane in any manner.

Hot damn. This quiz is obviously rigged!!!

I take issue with this quiz, because I answered those stupid questions completely rationally and in a sober, thoughtful manner and seemingly this is the thanks I get.

Plus, I know I passed the test because once I realized they were blackmailing me to sign up for all kinds of nasty offers and shit before they'd give me my score, I tried to close it down and then they got all panicky and were like, "Oh Guv, here is your rating, please don't go, the real quiz was that if you went through all those crazy sign-up pages just to find out if you were insane or not, then clearly YOU ARE VERY INSANE INDEED, PROBABLY MICHAEL JACKSON WARP FACTOR 8, HOWLING AT THE MOON, BATSHIT CRAZY, therefore, we're happy to inform you that you pass as merely 'weirdly unusual'".

Those fuckers.

The End of the World is Nigh

You know that song "Happy Days Are Here Again"? Well happy days just went right up the Swanee because yes, the Dark Uberlord is back in the country and all up in my grill.

He spent the day having meetings, catching up with the state of global affairs with our client and other such noble things, while I spent mine transcribing documents, doing a boatload of expenses and trying not to kill him. Which is harder than it sounds!

I actually accomplished a lot of mundane crap I'd been putting off forever and managed the complicated chore of eating something called a "Big Turk" (yes, his name was Mustafa and he smelled like falafel and anti-American decay) so the day ended on a high note after all. My motto is quite simple: No chocolate, no point.

I do actually alter that motto depending on mood. "No cheese, no point" is another one. "No tequila, no point"? Goes without saying.

"No flow chart, no point" is yet another of my favorites. Which brings me neatly to this piece of crap:

Click click for the big, expanded chart but really, it's not worth it, it's pretty crappy

Remember, I never said this entry would be any good, I'm merely posting or people nag me and are all like "Oh Guv, you haven't posted in DAYS I can't possibly live without you, I might pine away and die, please, please for the love of God and all that is holy, post a new entry so I don't have to cut myself to take my mind off the awful quagmire of doom that is a life without your irreverent observations and sarcastic outbursts. Please make me a flow chart or I will surely die."

It's a sad state of affairs really.

Checking In

I'm getting far too used to this no boss business. In fact, if someone would just pay me NOT to work for a live person I'd be all set because I can seriously handle chair swinging, playing games, chatting online and sitting with my feet on the desk all day, every day. No, I can! It's dirty work but someone has to do it, so you all don't have to. I hope you remember that at Christmas time and compensate me accordingly.

One thing I am not enjoying is the daily slew of needy Uberlord emails asking me to arrange future trips for which, as usual, he sends no real details, his asking me to schedule hair appointments, have cars pick up his wife and have a minion clad with a silk sponge to wipe his arse upon his return. I mean I am NOT HERE TO WORK, Uberlord, are you delusional? This is supposed to be two weeks of you-free time where I get to relax and create mayhem. You are eating into my me-time. Do I call you in Europe every day asking you to send me croissants? No!

I'm having weird memory issues today. I found some stuff I did yesterday (?) and have no recollection of completing, but it is complete therefore, I must've been half asleep and under the impression I was supposed to work. I was quite clearly insane at the time (working when the UL is away? Please.) I was almost as confused as the time at my old job when I switched around several of the keys on Mr. Panty Waist's keyboard after suffering a stupendously unreasonable day with the giant tool. The old assmuncher was in a state of flux for weeks, trying to email people using & instead of @.

Damn, it was awesome.

The Guv'ner Is A Touch Delirious

I woke up this morning still tired. Had a nice, long, therapeutic stretch. Briefly thought, "Wow it's pretty sunny out there today, I don't normally get the sun in here so early!", sat up, glanced at cell phone that I use as a clock, stretched some more, in a dopey, retarded manner, then gasped and did that huge double take thing, like say you'd just noticed your waiter for the evening was Elvis. You know Elvis? The dead guy with the swivelling pelvis that put the devil of lust into the hearts of 1950s' teens everywhere?

I leaped out of bed like I was being chased by a fire-breathing dragon. "How can it be TEN O'CLOCK???" I yelled to the cat, who knows a potentially volatile situation when she sees it and therefore went into a sort of Def Con emergency mode and fled under the bed.

I would like to say my alarm didn't bother going off, however as I use my phone as an alarm and I woke up clutching it in my sweaty palm, I'd wager it probably did and I decided to deactivate its noisy ass and go back to sleep. Jesus.

At least there's no Uberlord around this week to know. I am, however, dopey as all hell, feel like I have a major hangover and when I called British Airways upon arrival at work to ask for some information for my less Uberlordian boss, I hung up and realized I didn't understand a single thing they said and had to call them back to ask them again. Oops. This calls for a flow chart:I think the moral here is, "When the Uberlord is away, The Guv'ner will return to a state of undisciplined chaos". And yes, I realize that "undisciplined" in that sentence is redundant, but I'm a grammar rebel so if you don't like it....well you can just come here and say that.

Free To Do What I Want, Any Old Time

There's this joyous reverie when one wakes up and realizes that two weeks of Uberlord-free mayhem awaits them in the workplace. I mean it's like running in several directions at once. What is a person to do first? I'm all giddy with excitement.

- Arrive late with a giant bedraggled bedhead and put my feet on the desk? (ha ha, this doesn't count because I do this every day)

- Play loud music while drinking coffee and playing Spider Solitaire (Four Suits - you ain't dealing with no amateur, foe)?

- Grin at people in a most demonic and (un?)customary manner until someone calls security?

- Make prank calls?

- Blog?

- Make copious amounts of Pie charts about trivial nonsense because why should today be any different?

- Nap on couch (again)?

The world is my oyster for the next couple of weeks and if there's a pearl in it anywhere I aim to find it. For example what does the Uberlord keep in all those cabinets of mystery in his office? Top shelf liquor? A revolver? A ball gag? His Penthouse collection? I'm going to find out!

There is also a pretty fair chance I am going to play racquet ball in there with a whiffle ball set while commentating out loud to imaginary TV audiences about my superior racquet skills as the ball bounces off his $500 framed golfing photo.

Today's Announcement

I've spent a delicious morning being stabbed in the kishkas by little Jezebels with pitchforks and making 20 pages of hand-scrawled-by-a-baboon psychobabble into a PowerPoint presentation.

I think you all know my affinity for PowerPoint by now, although usually I prefer to use it in a decidedly non-corporate manner (yes really!). One thing has been bothering me today however, and feel free to fill me in on the answer to this mystery so I can dutifully ignore you, because I actually don't care:


I have no freaking idea what you do with them so I choose to ignore them and move on with my life and I suggest you do similar.

There was no point at all to this entry but I dedicate it to Gnugs for making me feel guilty about not posting and making the world a better all round place. Thanks Gnugs.

I hope you all have a splendiferous weekend filled with....cake?

The Guv'ner Debates

A Tuesday Conundrum for you:

Again, clicky for large version if you're blind

I'm sleepy. Did anyone get that?

Slice of Sanity Pie

This whole week, with the Dark Uberlordian Entity overseas, you'd think I would be having a pleasant karmic office experience, full of good vibes, kicking back with a drink, a snack, some muzak and an attitude of sweetness and light, no? Because I'm all about sweetness and light as you all know. Right? Hello?

No.

Naturally, instead of this state of bliss, I have had four thousand things to do all of equally annoying status. I have planned, mapped, reserved and procured flights, hotels and excursions up the wazoo only to have to change them all several times as his Royal Highness is flighty and keeps an idea in his head about the same amount of time as it takes Britney to home in on a Twinkie.

If you can't read it you can click for larger version, whiny!

Things I have discovered about myself this week:

1. I hate Switzerland, the neutral, chocolate-loving, Jewish-Money-Taking, "Can't decide what fucking language to speak" bastards.



2. I don't much care anymore if some spoiled prima donna has to change planes in Miami to get back to NYC. They can suck it and at 4am when they're in Miami International Airport and I'm tucked in my warm bed snoring, I'm going to sleep with one middle digit fully extended.



3. No one in the travel department answers the phone anymore when I call. They have caller ID. Even THEY hate the Uberlord. Or wait...maybe they hate ME?



4. .....nah! That's ridiculous, I AM CRAZY-AWESOME.



5. I am invincible and delusional



6. I like cheese sandwiches a hell of a lot (I already knew this actually!)

The little sanity I have left will be spent this evening drinking what's left of the margarita bucket in my fridge. Yes, I said "bucket". You can all just deal with it.

Hope you all have a finger lickin' good weekend, my peeps.

Plug That Bitch

I will no doubt whine a little later, because what's a day without me whining, huh? No day at all.

Until then, today is my day over at The Stash and I'm attempting to teach you heathens something academic and intelligent (and blatantly untrue). Come on over and find out the true story of Joan of Arc. And yes you are correct, I totally forgot it was that time already and had nothing more juicy prepared. Bite me.

Mondays Are Hereby Illegal

I spent all weekend deliberately avoiding my work email, like I do every weekend, because hello, it's the weekend and I refuse to do anything work related no matter how conscientious that might be, at least until someone pays me a shit of a lot more money than I make now or presents me with a truck loaded with gold bullion.

...Although what would you do with that? Is there somewhere you can cash-in bullion for like...dollars, or do you have to melt it down in your garage and trade it to a Mexican druglord named El Jefe, for heroin? Either way it sounds complicated and might involve much money laundering and shenanigans.

I knew however, that I would come in today to a positive influx of Uberlord emails from the other side of the world, demanding I do vague things he can't be bothered explaining or complaining about things I already did that weren't to his liking. And I have to say I was not disappointed.

OK, I WAS disappointed - I'm constantly disappointed - but I was right. A dozen emails featuring instructions to do things that weren't explained in any cohesive manner and emails not written in complete sentences. This is no way to start a week when you've had three hours sleep. I have a good mind to send one email back saying "LA LA LA can't HEAR YOU".

Anyway, he pissed me off enough to make an Uberlordian Venn Diagram:
I feel so much better now.

A Quick Pointless Vent

It has come to my attention that when someone tells you they will be in Friday morning but must leave at 1pm, then proceed to still be here at 4:15pm, that I get quite cranky. Especially when said Uberlordian entity is all frazzled and insane (no change there) and demanding in a way that makes me want to test the solidity of his head with a plank. I knew today would be insane but urgh.

1) No I cannot demand Delta fly into a totally different airport in Moscow

2) I can not find you a first class seat when there is no first class even ON the flight

3) I have no fucking idea what the problem is with Hong Kong

4) If the Russians will not allow anyone through security to help you through customs I CAN NOT MAKE THEM. Besides they have like...kalishnikovs. And they'd totally use them

5) If you have to wait in line for an hour at their customs and immigration then you have to do it. I can't change their damn commie rules or slip a wad in someone's pocket on your behalf

6) When you force the adapter into the port on your Blackberry, the wrong way up and destroying the little wires inside, rendering the Blackberry completely useless, the Telecom guys will laugh at you and call you a schmuck, there is no way around this, it's a fact of life.

Drinking at work should be legal just for days like this.

Yeah vent over. How are you guys anyway?

Back On The Chain Gang

Well you'll all be thrilled to know I am back at work. No graphs today or anything fun like that, however, my day so far has been like this:

1) Got in an hour late because I could.

2) Sent an urgent fax to someone 1600 miles away suggesting they hand deliver me a soda in return for a giant Guv'ner sized hug in the off-chance my sweet talking actually can control people and give me ideas for future world domination.

3) Changed some travel arrangements to Rio that were previously to Sao Paulo when the Uberlord realized that Rio and Sao Paulo are actually different places and Brazil is not one big city.

4) Realized I'd left all my money on the dresser at home and had to buy coffee with nickels. Again.

5) Received email from faxee calling me an "ass".

6) Talked to several severely surly people about spreadsheets.

7) Commenced slacking.

8) Lunch.

I know, you're delighted I told you this. Well you are WELCOME.