Punishment for eating Tide pods? Really? I have to read this?

Having successfully completed the mandated order of prohibition of any type of communication via this forum, I announce my return and resumption of personal observations.

 Of particular heartwarming feeling was an article today  in the Washington Post  (it's behind a paywall, switch your browser to anonymous to view it) chronicling the demise of everyday "Mommy blogs" to nothing more than corporate sponsored sites of product placement, suggestive sales pitch opportunities, and reference to Facebook or Instagram sites for visual stimulation.

I can assure our faithful audience of 3, no 2, actual readers that we have not been bought off and will continue to deliver the hard-hitting,  no holds barred, snap analysis, and thoughtful (others call it mean) derision of people, events, and trends in today's world.  Mark Z aside, no amount of money would sway us to relinquish control of our site.  (ATTN:  Mark Z:  I get up at 5 am daily; give me a call, we can talk in private.)

If you are a new reader, take a look around; you might actually realize your world is not as bad as you thought after reading this stuff.    If you are one of our 2 faithful readers, welcome back.  I have some ideas now that Mommy blogs are passe, we can actually carve out our own niche that was missed before.

I have some laundry to do but notice I need to go buy some detergent.

They speak in tongues

The observant reader will note the ramblings of one persistent commenter whom takes a delight in offering drivel, gibberish, and mostly, blather. Though all  comments and thoughts are welcome here, the site administrator does note that these contributions are actually similar to the goals of the  original charter of our organization as noted here .  

In fairness to our two faithful readers, though future comments will certainly be included, our policy of recognizing  these is nothing more than the price to pay of having a crackpot among our reading audience. 

What?? Who's birthday?

A major disconnect has been noted!   Our records indicate we are nearing two major milestones: the end of our mandated period  to perform this community service for an undetermined amount of time at no cost AND our own Institute's birthday.  Free at Last, Free at Last. 

To recap:  We were born as a legal compromise between our State Attorney General and the heretofore known cheap-assed Board of Directors over a legal matter.   Since our Institute is populated with a staff  of questionable mental capacity and overall abilities our primary duty has always struggled to offer policy analysis, event commentary, and recount observations as generated by the same staff that mental health professionals have identified as Weirdos, Whackos, and Misfits.  As restitution on behalf of some indiscretions a few of our members committed, previously an undetermined amount of time was mandated for our work to be accomplished.  It appears that time is drawing to a close.  

In appreciation, I mandated  a directive to the FTI bakery to create the finest cake they could with a sincere expression of gratitude to relay our sense of accomplishment.    Somehow, this is a fitting result. 

We'll give you whatever you want; Just don't harm the dog!

Recognizing the power of numbers, the militancy of our 2 , no, 3 faithful readers (murmurs abound that there may now be 3; we'll go with it), and the sheer weight of influence this  occasional struggle commands,  I have blatantly ripped off an old National Lampoon gag from the 70's for todays posting to exhort you to action.  As the picture notes, effort on your part will  result in a joyous result for this dog.  If not, I'm not sure of the outcome.

I received a message last night from a friend that his dog, Fiona, is entered in a national online photo contest promoted by Garden and Gun magazine entitled 2014 Good Dog.  I don't know the judging criteria, I don't know the prize, and I don't know what is in it for the owner.  (EDITOR"S NOTE:  Demographic studies of our readership indicate that  publications with names like Garden and Gun, Feet Monthly, and Spank It, rated the highest and were classified as "very willing to subscribe to" based on title interest.  That's unfortunate.)  Regardless I know the mobilization of our 2 3 loyal readers can make a difference and move the needle.

At the current time of publication, Fiona has over 100 votes; the leader has a couple of thousand.  You can only vote once per day from the same device.  I exhort the 3 of you to vote from your computer, tablet, and phones daily for the next week to create a tidal wave of interest to propel this dog to the top of the standings in the contest.  Rudimentary math indicates that 7 days of voting x 3 voting devices x 3 rabid voters should have this dog in the mid-hundreds vote count by the end of the contest.  This is probably not going to be enough to win,  but,  you can sleep soundly know you have done something useful today.  For the majority of our readership, that will probably be a days worth of work.

Vote here.

I guess this means no pocket watch, huh?

Scrambling to the top of the FTI compound yesterday, dodging the nesting flying-ratlike Western Starling population  while still maintaining some type of footing on an approximate 45 degree slope, I was able to adjust the hand-crank driven communication satellite receiver to an approximate 53 degree azimuth in relation to the horizon to provide a communication linkup with Giacommo, my  able-bodied assistant from the past,  located across the continent.  Normally, this type of task is relegated to our FTI IT team (the most hated and reviled group here at FTI), however, since they were once again deeply absorbed in a continuing virtual firefight with some wizard priest sloth-monkeys from Zoltar 7 via their gaming consoles, they couldn't be torn away from their screens to help.  I figured I will just go make the adjustment myself.

My pride and proud association with Giacommo knows no depths.  He has surpassed me in leadership and advancement opportunities and appears to be genuinely satisfied with his current position at an alternative organization.  Our conversation was borne from my early post this week about CrazY and our shared amazement and wonder of how such people can remain viably employed when only caring about themselves with no regard for others.    During our conversation,  should CrazY ever be relieved of command from Dilbertland, Giacommo stated he would personally deposit something on his lawn similar to what a bear leaves in the woods in appreciation for all of the support he afforded both of us during our tenure.

I like to think of this as the green alternative to traditional retirement gifts.      

You know it's true: Sometimes the truth hurts

I had a talk with an insider from Dilbertland yesterday that confirmed my decision to leave was the right one. I never had any doubt, but this just seemed to reinforce it.

For the past 4 years or so, this effort has meant to be pointed, edgy, and yes, mean-spirited in order to showcase things  I think are wrong.   That's the beauty of this whole exercise.  If you don't like the content, quit reading.  Don't like my angle of thought?  Go align yourself with other minded people.  I don't care. I have, however, never  used actual names of people I am talking about.  Sure, our 2 faithful readers know the subjects I am describing.  Dicky the Peap gets roasted on an almost daily basis and yet he knows, HE KNOWS, I have never revealed his legal name. Which brings me to my topic of today:  apparently I hit a tender (very tender) chord when introducing CrazY to this forum.  While still affiliated with us, my able bodied assistant Giacommo noted the similarities between our organization's staff and CrazY's personality.  I wrote about it and politely declined to include him as I thought I had my hands full with the idiots I am surrounded by in the first place.  I needed no more.  CrazY reportedly recognized himself and my slide to banish-land started.

Looking back, I wouldn't have changed a thing.  Some people are simply not going to change. It's not my job to change them.  It's not my job to report them.  My job (which I have chosen) is to simply write about, describe, and mock them in an anonymous fashion while at the same time driving home my point.  I do it anonymously not because I am afraid to confront them; rather, to protect their honor.  After all, how would you like to be described as CrazY?      

Springtime: A period of renewal

Springtime brings a period of transition.    A time to awaken.  A time to refresh  A time to start anew.   I'm there.  And the world really looks much different.  

I just returned from a weeks worth of training and new orientation at a position with my new company.   I will not disrespect them to refer to them as Dilbertland v.2 as I would have if they compared previously to Dilbertland.  I have been treated completely different.  I am viewed as a valued member of their team.  They want and will help me to achieve success for my self and them.  They recognize that if I am happy, they are going to be very happy with the results I produce which make them more money. Every company has their core values, but too often they are only trotted out once a year, reviewed, and then put back in the drawer, within the bowels of the HR system.  This company, though, is different. You feel it.  When they talk about partnership, commitment, and entrepreneurship (entrepreneurship!  what company encourages employees to be  entrepreneur's with in their own organization?), it's not random words.  Dilbertland actually gave me a wallet sized Vision card that stated (and I am not making this up) that it's purpose was to "Create a proper return for our shareholders by increasing profits..."    Gosh, I really want to bust my ass for those folks.

It doesn't matter; the past is the past.  They went their way, I went mine.  It's a new season, a time to grow and bloom.  I know I will.  The soil is right, the sunlight ample, and the plant food plentiful.  Stand back and watch the spectacular flower.       

Time to take flight

I gave my 2 week notice at Dilbertland the other day and it is liberating.

After 12+ years, I decided it is time to move on.  I'm not bitter, angry, or apathetic.  I'm just tired; really tired.    Tired of the complacency, the games, but, really tired of weak management.  Now those reasons might sound like complaints coming from someone with an axe to grind,  But, they are not.  Let me explain.      

When I entered Dilbertland over 12 years ago, I had no practical experience in the industry.  I was embraced,  however, for my enthusiasm and was actually valued because of my lack of experience would afford me to be trained in the mold of what Dilbert wanted.  To me, it was fun.  I like to learn and I like to change things up.  I wasn't intimidated at all.    And, along the way, I learned and actually got to be fairly proficient at it.  I still don't have all of the answers, but am not afraid to admit so, and when I do get posed a question I don't know, I research, find the proper answer and relay it cheerfully in the interests of the customer.    Anyways, I did observe some things gradually  that I did think as a bit odd.  There became an evident message of "Do as I say, not as I do", type of mindset: "You know boys, the budgets are very tight right now and we can't afford any more resources. What's that, honey?  Oh sure, bring another bottle of both white and red  for the table and roll out the dessert tray, but, keep it light.  I can't spend more than $800 for this dinner".   OK, I get it:  let's eat well tonight because the sample budget is going to be lean for a while.  Sounds kind of like a funny way to run a company.  Or, "We recently enjoyed our best quarter ever with an increase in both top and bottom line results.  We anticipate a successful quarter ahead and forecast even greater numbers in line with industry expectations."  During the annual spring evaluation and review season, however, the message is that "the current tough economic climate, though improving, limit us to offer a modest 2% cost of living wage adjustment."  I think the light finally went off when I got the missive from corporate, though, when discovering that the guiding principle is to "return a fair value to the shareholder". The shareholder?  What about the customer? The employee?  Or maybe the product?   I'm a shareholder through the retirement plan and I sure as hell know my return on investment would be substantially higher if they focused on the customer instead of focusing on me.  I'm not buying anything.  I'm collecting.  And I would collect a whole lot more if people bought a whole lot more.  I am not idealistic to think that no company has warts.  I'm sure my new employer has some things I find a bit odd.  I know how they have treated me so far and I am not even on the payroll yet.  After accepting their offer, I received 3 phone calls in 4 days asking,  "how are you doing, how was your announced resignation received, do you need anything?  We are super excited to have you join our team."  Thank you very much. I've seen enough.

Wikipedia defines Stockholm Syndrome as  a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with them.  I was not a hostage, Dilbertland was very good to me, and I am grateful to them for the past 12 years.  I do know of people who are experiencing the Syndrome, however.  I didn't want to become one of them.  Fortunately, I caught a rising updraft. And I am going to soar.  

Jukebox: For more than one reason

That's a lot of Green; and we're not talking about beer

The incident reports are not totally finalized and a few are missing, but a clearer picture of the events this past weekend indicate that the Dickey the Peap/St. Pattys Day Blowout  resulted in a huge financial gain for the short armed one; and only we have photographic proof of it all! 

Initially called to the location over neighbors complaints of loud, raucous noise, police and elderly advocates were surprised to find a disturbing sight of overturned wheelchairs, a pair of women's Depends hanging in a tree branch, and most curiously, a single set of false teeth on the front porch of the residence where the blowout was being held.  Upon entering the party, authorities observed most party-goers in a state of complete and total sobriety in direct contrast to their expectation due to the noise involved.  Immediately, authorities suspected a bunco party that had gotten out of hand, but, then began to notice that all of the party goers had Irish coffee mugs in their hands with varying degree of drinks in them, and yet, all revelers were cold stone sober. Suspecting some type of chicanery, officials from the State Department of Weights and Measurements were immediately summoned and determined that the short-armed one, acting as the party host, had completely and constantly been short pouring Irish coffee drinks all night long in an attempt to widen the profit margins he would enjoy between the costs of conducting the party and the revenue he was generating from it. Apparently, the noise stemmed from the vocal protest from partygoers after realizing they were part of a complex swindle.  

As displayed here, an alert peace officer was able to photographically document the actions of the short one counting his money upon their raid. Due to the limitations in technology, the observant reader will notice that the hand actions of the short-armed one are so quick that the image is not "clean" and actually a bit hazy. Like trying to photograph a hummingbird in flight, capturing that type of incident requires specialized equipment that most people don't have without a specific purpose.  The party was shut down, the place cleared, and the short-armed one was advised that, though not illegal, it really isn't a good idea to be a lousy host with your friends during a celebratory type of occasion.  The short armed-one replied, "you've got nothin' on me coppers.  Now get the hell out of here!"

Elderly advocates did collect the set of false teeth and will return them to their rightful owner upon identification.