Mission Mountain Family Programming

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"That's Not a Word" Word of the Day!

hemidemisemiquaver


(hem-ih-dem-ih-SEM-ih-kway-ver) n.
a musical note with the time value of 1/64 of a whole note : sixty-fourth note.


Anchored Cubicle uses "hemidemisemiquaver" in a sentence:

I'm pretty sure that Tom Petty has no idea which, if any, of his songs contain a hemidemisemiquaver, and I'm also pretty sure he doesn't care because ass-kickers don't waste time categorizing ROCK AND ROLL!!!!!!!!

Awesome and Necessary Facebook Group Found on Company Time #4

I hereby proclaim "Scott Stapp" a swear word

Happy 3-day weekend Scott Stapp!!

Mission Mountain Family Programming

The Anchored Cubicle Daily Awesome Award

And now... I present to you... an award I just made up in my head while drinking really fantastic coffee at my desk, at 8:50 a.m. on a Thursday morning. Said award will hereby (and therein) be referred to as The Anchored Cubicle Daily Awesome Award. This award is obtained by completing one task; making us use the word "awesome" in describing a possible awardee.

This Anchored Cubicle Daily Awesome Award goes to Yuri Lane.

Lane wins for obvious reasons.
No, this is not a physical award
(unless someone wants to design one - you probably won't be compensated).
No, you cannot apply for it.
Also, it probably won't be awarded daily.

Take Your Feet Off the Table, We Have Company!

Being a Mom = Being a Crackwhore

by Guest Contributor, K. Myers

Ok, ok. Someone please explain to me when the roles of motherhood changed. When my mom had her first kid of five, she was 22. She was married, working long hours as a nurse and she took good care of her child. She was not posting pictures of herself on MySpace in skanky clothes, drunk and/or smoking. Sure, the internet didnt exist in 1975, but she still wasn't out partying it up at the local bar every night.

Why is it that nearly 75% of the females of my high school senior class have taken the last four years to get totally wasted while also giving birth to one, two, and sometimes more, innocent
little children that they allow their mothers to raise while they go get drunk every night
and hook up with skeezy men?

Seriously, is THIS who is raising our next generation? In fact, it is.
We are screwed, my friends. SCREWED.

Haicube

Lunch
A Haiku by Andrew

What is that I hear?
A distant voice calls for me
“Less work, more pizza”

The Drive to Work
A Haiku by Ashleigh

Coffee burns my tongue;
The day starts like a bad knee
(consistent, swollen).

Elevator
A Haiku by Andrew

Cage doors closing quick
Mute strangers look at the floor
Damn this is awkward

Computer Nerds Make Me Feel Mediocre and Uncultured
A Haiku, by Ashleigh

Java is not a
Real and honest language.
Stop claiming such things.

Theatre
A Haiku by Andrew

How to avoid work:
Chagrined look, perfect disguise
Read Harry Potter

How I Feel About the Time Following a Snack Break
A Haiku by Ashleigh

At 3 pm I
Will eat two awesome Pop Tarts.
3:05 – Uhhgg.

"That's Not A Word" Word of the Day!

grok


(grŏk) tr.v. grok·ked, grok·king, groks Slang
To understand profoundly through intuition or empathy.

Anchored Cubicle uses "grok" in a sentence:

Though Ralph was extremely high, we was still able to grok what Teddy was saying: the aluminum foil was really shiny and hilarious.

“I Will Most Likely Not Be Your Friend If…”

You refuse to respect the Cart Corral.

I was trying to think of a more difficult, more intelligent, if you will, way to say this, but I can’t. If you aren't able to return your free and provided shopping cart to its designated area, we can't run with the same crowd.
Did the bush in the middle of the parking lot provide you with a cart? Alright, then don’t put it back there. The height of laziness exists in the lack of an ability to walk ten feet and return a shopping cart to its clearly marked home. The signs do not read “Please Don’t Return Your Cart. Our Employees Will Take Time Out of Their Real Jobs to Clean Up After You Lethargic, Self-Obsessed Shoppers Who Have Nothing Better to Do Than Ignore Easy to Follow Rules.”

This is what you're teaching your kids: Their energy is far more important than giving respect to other people’s property, and it’s totally fine to unashamedly ignore a business’s attempt at keeping its’ property maintained and easily accessible. Also, it’s no problem if you want to leave a cart in a parking spot, it’s not like law-abiding citizens use those for anything. Ever.

Mission Mountain Family Programming

Paula, puh-lease!

I'm sure everyone has heard the news - Paula Abdul broke her nose when she fell, trying to avoid stepping on her chihuahua Tulip. According to reports, she also suffered bruises on her arms and legs.

Apparently, we can add "I was trying not to step on my dog" to the world's long-line of standard, generic, lame excuses that can be used to explain a wide-variety of embarrasing occurences. In Paula's case, she was obviously drunk off her ass. I mean, what the hell was her dog doing under her feet that caused her to not only fall, but fall so fast and so suddenly that she fell smack on her pretty little schnoz and didn't have the time or reflexes to put her flippin' hands down to break her fall.

I can just imagine the meeting she had with her publicist about formulating an excuse for the broken nose. I can see Paula sitting there, sloshing the celery stick around in her Bloody Mary while organizing her weekly pills in her extra-large pill box as her publicist is scrubbing the vomit and blood stains off the carpet (because you know when she fell she just lay there all night in a pool of blood and puke). All of a sudden little Tulip comes trotting in to try to lick up some vomit, and the publicist cries out triumphantly "Blame it on the dog!"

Its funny how when people are in desperate situations where they're trying to cover something up, the dumbest things seem so logical. We've all been there. My shining moment was at the beginning of my freshman year of college. I received a rather large hickey on the back of my neck (I was 18 and dumb) and the next day, I went to visit my aunt and grandmother who lived nearby. My grandmother asked "What's that on your neck?", to which I replied "Oh...I fell on the barre in ballet class and brusied myself." I was quite proud of this response. I was a music theater major in college and had to take ballet...and I loved it (I'm here, I'm queer, blah blah)... so this answer did make sense on a certain level. I mean, its not like I tried to pass it off as a football injury or something. In reality, I would have had to be pretty "talented" to brusie myself on the lower back of my neck by falling on a 4 foot high ballet barre. My grandmother took a few seconds to process my reply and sort of just walked away. She probably didn't even know what a ballet barre was but I think she figured out that I was full of it.

"That's Not A Word" Word of the Day!

Sozzle

\Soz"zle\, n. 1. One who spills water or other liquids carelessly; specifically, a sluttish woman.

2. A mass, or heap, confusedly mingled. [Prov. Eng.]

Anchored Cubicle Uses "sozzle" in a sentence:

Mildred always thought Malifescent was a sozzle, for she always spilled her martini everywhere. . .and because she slept with Mildred's husband. What a bitch.

We're #1! We're #1!

Apparently Chicago has the highest gas prices nationally. You know what that means? We're #1! Yes!!! Take that losers!! Other suckers around the U.S. are paying only $3.18 a gallon, while Chicago gets to pay $3.59 a gallon. We obviously love our cars way more than any other state because we're ready and willing to shell it out to Shell and shit dough at Citgo. And we need the gas, especially for our Hummers and SUVs. How else are we going to traverse the deadly and menacing terrain of the Midwest? We can't. So let's celebrate, Chicago! Let's drive around needlessly and show our commitment to the cause; the cause of not caring that we're so dependent on gas that we're still eager to pay out the ass for it! YES!!!!!!

"I Will Most Likely Not Be Your Friend If. . ."

#5

I will most likely not be your friend if you wear those stupid ass bug eye sunglasses. No, I'm sorry, you're not Paris Hilton, and you're not cool. Paris Hilton isn't even cool. If wearing stupid sunglasses that cover half your face and donning a hideous cowboy hat makes you cool, then by all means, go ahead. I'll just be the guy laughing at you and giving you the finger as you strut with your entourage down. . .whatever street you strut down. I guess the one with all the exclusive stores where "hot" girls shop. Awesome, well, enjoy trying to look like the Empire-anointed Princess of Over-Priced Accessories. Hey you know what would make you even cooler? Getting a DUI, then violating parole and getting sentenced to 45 days in prison. Dude, you'd be a such a BAMF!! STOP IT.

The List (An Update)

1. Cinnamon Roll Pop Tarts * * * * 1/2

2. Apple Strudel Pop Tarts * * *

On to whatever flavor I feel like trying next.

FYI - If you also want to participate in Pop Tart Hour (PTH) at your office, you can.

3 pm, Eastern time. **

Every day.

**Please adjust accordingly.

Awesome and Necessary Facebook Group Found on Company Time #3

If 10,000 People Join I Get Stormtroopers in My Wedding

That's fine, I plan on walking back up the aisle to an acoustic version of Jay-Z's 99 Problems.

"Anchorded Cubicle Recipe Recommendation"

Papa Matthew’s Cheesy Tuscany
Serves 6

Ingredients:

1 box (16 ounces) of Penne Rigate, or any kind of pasta. (Really it doesn’t matter, it’s all pretty much the same so who cares. It’s all just starches and carbs.)

2 jars of some cheap pasta sauce, preferably store brand, but whatever’s the on the bottom shelf. Make sure the ingredients on the back have the words “artificial flavors” and lots of words that end in “mate,” “bate,” and “trate.” That’s how you know it’ll stay fresh!

4 pound block of cheddar cheese, the most expensive cheese you can find. You can never pay too much when buying good cheddar. *NOTE* No parmesan or mozzarella is needed for this recipe.

Directions:

Boil a huge a pot of water and dump in the pasta. Don’t follow the directions on the box. Normally it will say something like “don’t overcook” or “7-8 minutes or until it’s al dente.” Whatever that means. Pay not attention to that. Cook it for a good 15-20 minutes. If it’s still firm, it’s not done yet.

When the pasta is good and soggy, drain it, rinse it (make sure you rinse it!), and then throw it back in the pot. Open up both jars of sauce and dump them in the pot with the pasta. Heat it up until it’s nice and hot.

And now for the most important part: the CHEDDAR. Serve the pasta on plate while it’s still hot. Either grate the cheese over the pasta or have it grated in a bowl beforehand, it’s your preference. Grate a good quarter pound of cheese on the pasta. When it’s melted, you’re ready to chow down! It's so good, it makes me want to run out and buy another pinkie ring! The cheese is what makes this pasta as good, and as popular, as it is. If you didn't have the cheddar, you'd just be left with that boring pasta aftertaste. Mama mia!

And as they say in the mother country of Italy, Bon Appetit!

(This is an old Italian family recipe passed down from generation to generation, dating back to at least 1993)

What I Want Most in the World...

Money?

Nope.

Fame?

Maybe next time.

World Peace?

No.

The ability to spit in someone's face without any consequences?

DING! DING!

This is what my current job has driven me - a usually calm, passive, caring person - to desire. I don't want to hit them, cut them, or do anything else that will cause physical harm. No, I want to spit in their face and see a look of utter surprise, shock, and fear - all coated in my saliva.

And then I'll scream "Suck It!" and run away.

**********

A boy can dream, can't he?

The World's Longest Palindrome

I'm not sure how it's measured, but I'm pretty convinced someone with a desk job made it up:





http://norvig.com/pal2txt.html

Use Big Words so No One Can Understand You.

All the higher-ups are doing it.




Dilbert Mission Statement Generator

Haicube

This is our first edition of Haicube, a collection of office-based Haiku. Brew a cup of green tea, pick yourself a lotus flower, and read some boredom-inspired poetry.

Work (A Haiku)

A Haiku by Ashleigh

Desk - You are too much

(not quite enough) like my Bed.

This irritates me.

Time sheets
A Haiku by Andrew

Ramu worked 40
I have the proof on my screen
I really don't care

Deadline

A Haiku by Ashleigh

Six pages marked with

indecipherable ink.

Forehead smacks my palm.

Taking a message
a Haiku by Andrew

I took a message
"I'll let them know very soon."
Post-It in the trash.

The Metro: Farragut West

A Haiku by Ashleigh

The seats smell like pee.

The man to my left proclaims;

"I am so bad ass."

Filing
a Haiku by Andrew

Stack of papers sit
Searching for 3-Ringed Home
Google Chat instead

Free Doesn't Mean "Good Deal"

We all check out Craigslist from time to time. Some more than others. I personally like checking out the "Free" section to see what I can find. Somehow we have had the idea engraved in our brains that free means good deal. I think this list of Craigslist free items will disprove that idea forever.

(Click on the subject of each ad to be taken to the page itself)

bushes you dig up freeee

Woo hoo!! Nothing says "bargain" like a few hours of back-breaking yard work. Thanks for nothing.

Free Trophies - Figure Skating & Waterskiing

For those of you who have never accomplished anything in life: someone else's accomplishments. The ad even boasts that you can use these trophies to "impress your friends." My friends might be a little concerned if I was 1st Place Wisconsin Overall Champion in Womens Waterskiing. Sad. Very, very sad.

Gazebo

A free structure. Well, that sounds like a good deal. Until you get there are realize you have to move a gazebo. Without damaging the person's yard. Their SMALL yard. Oh and make sure you do it quickly. They don't want you taking all day moving this 18 foot by 12 foot gazebo.

Twin mattress FREE

Now there's something I've always wanted; a used mattress. Sanitary, classy, safe. Now you can rest easy knowing this is a safe piece of furniture because someone else has already sweated and pissed all over it. And when they're putting it by the curb, you know it's gotta be good!

Fighting Bull

Fight corporate speak.

Use a little creativity.

Fight the bull.

Win.

http://www.fightthebull.com/

Oh, and there's neat software involved.

EDIT: Now that I’ve tried it out, I’ve realized that Bullfighter is akin to Spell Check, only it watches your word usage. For example, if I use the vague word “strategic” in a document Bullfighter will respond with this:

Strategic A real word, but overused to the point where it sounds like hyperbole. Just because something has no short-term, immediate value doesn't mean it's strategic.

... maybe this post is only appropriate for someone who owns an official set of GRE study word flashcards for "fun"... anyway....

I <3 PBF

I love The Perry Bible Fellowship. The comic. Not the church.

If you've never seen or heard of PBF, you've been missing out. But luckily Nicholas Gurewitch posts all his amazing comics on www.pbfcomics.com for all to enjoy. Please check them out. If you got Gary Larson's The Farside, you'll get PBF.

A Little Less Talk & a Little More Shut the Hell Up, Please!

Every morning, during my grueling hour and fifteen minute commute in stop and go traffic on the Capital Beltway, I listen to the Kane Show on Hot 99.5 FM. Its a really comical show, with some great personalities.

However...

This morning, they started talking about IKEA's latest efforts to reward those who make environmentally-conscious lifestyle decisions - namely, driving a hybrid vehicle. IKEA now has reserved parking spaces at the front of their lots for hybrid vehicles. How many reserved spots? Two. The Kane show was not all about this and find it rude and obnoxious. One of the members of the show went so far as to say she hates being victimized and "forced to make certain decisions."

For starters, you have a SERIOUS problem if IKEA'S decision to reserve a few parking spaces for hybrid vehicles "forces" you into buying a hybrid vehicle. Does this person go to IKEA every day or perhaps, several times a day, thus making the need for a parking space at the front of the lot necessary? Or is this person so busy that they do not have time to walk an extra fifty feet to purchase a crappy bookshelf held together by wooden pegs?

Its not like IKEA sells the antidote to some type of poisonous snake venom, making the fact that only certain people can park by the entrance pivotal. They sell crappy furniture and weird home decor, people!

They even went as far to ridicule this decision based on their perception that anyone who drives a hybrid vehicle would not be able to even fit anything they purchase at IKEA in their hybrid vehicle. This same argument could be made for handicapped spaces - anyone who is handicapped certainly won't be able to carry an IKEA futon out to their car, so why should they get a reserved spot? Does the existence of handicapped spaces also victimize you and "force" you to make certain decisions so that you too can take advantage of a handicapped parking space? Is the world just so unfair that you can't get by in every day life without a permanent, debilitating physical ailment?

This asinine conversation continued for another 10 minutes or so, where they continued to gripe and moan about being victims and how much they love their SUV's and might have to give them up now that they can't get rock star parking at IKEA. In case you forgot from the first paragraph, they're reserving two spots. Count 'em: 1 - 2 ...oh, all done. Just two.

Which just makes me wonder...

I've been to IKEA many times and there are always thousands of people there and I've never been able to park less than a half-mile away from the entrance. Do those who work at the Kane Show really get such wonderful parking spots at IKEA that this decision actually affects them?

Kane Show, if you are really turned off by IKEA's new environmental efforts, then just take it as a sign to save up your money and shop somewhere you can get high-quality furniture AND a great parking spot. You'll be much happier in the end.

"That's Not A Word" Word of the Day!

getatable

get·at·able adjective

capable of being reached or attained; "a very getatable man"; "both oil and coal are there but not in getatable locations" [syn: come-at-able]

Anchored Cubicle Uses "getatable" in a sentence:

"The bad father left his Jameson in a getatable spot, and his infant daughter polished off the bottle."

The Business of Break Ups

Recently, a billboard for a Chicago-based law firm displayed a pro-divorce message that read "Life's Short. Get a Divorce." People were so upset by the message, not just the scantily clad woman and man on the sign, that a city alderman found a loophole to have the sign taken down.
It's disturbing that there are people in this world that actually have no souls. Seriously. If you want to generate more income for your company and your wallet by intentionally targeting people's marriages, you have no soul. After that sign was taken down, one of the lawyers said that they felt "violated." Really? What your sign implies, Corri Fetman and Kelly Garland, is that life is too short to believe in such concepts as love, commitment, faithfulness, friendship, and pretty much everything that sums up a good marriage. You're juxtaposing the phrase "life's short," a phrase that usually precedes a carefree activity like "skip class" or "eat another brownie," with marriage, a HUGE commitment where people make vows that should be upheld for life. You're manipulative and I find your cry for sympathy contemptible and pathetic. You feel violated? Well, forgive me if I don't really give a shit.

Coooommmmee ooonnnnnnnnn......

Why, oh why, did I start the Disk Defragmenter 5 minutes before I was going to leave? I'm an idiot.

"I Will Most Likely Not Be Your Friend If..."

you post a picture of your car on your friendster/myspace/facebook/etc. page. Seriously.*

And I particularly enjoy the people who post pictures of their really old, beat-up, P.O.S. cars just because they happened to paint a lame racing stripe on it or they put a huge spoiler on the back of their Honda Civic. News flash - Honda Civic's do not need a 3 foot high spoiler.

*Unless of course, you are a certain A. Hill who needs to post a picture of her kick-ass '92 buick. Pronto.

"I Will Most Likely Not be Your Friend if..."

you come to the grand city of Chicago for a corporate business conference and decide to wear crocs with your slacks and collared shirt. I am wearing heels. They kind of hurt. However, because, to a certain extent, I believe in upholding a reputable appearance, I am wearing them. Also, we're not attending meetings at a HoJo's, the rooms have fully stocked mini bars and lunch today offered a vegetarian option. Get your act together and join the rest of our indoor, civilized society.

Buck up.

Put on your work shoes sweetie. Really, you shouldn't be able to wear them anywhere but next to a camp fire, while eating Kashi Go Lean bars, and after hiking 35 miles under hair you haven't combed in, ohhhh maybe 5 weeks.

"I Will Most Likely Not Be Your Friend If. . ."

#2
I will most likely not be your friend if you pop your collar. If you wear a polo shirt, and you fold your collar upward so that it lies flat against your neck, you are instantly transformed into a stain. There are two types of people that pop their collars: pretentious snobs, and macho juicers who try and hump unsuspecting girls in clubs. For the most part, they’re not mutually exclusive. I don’t know who decided that this was a fashion statement. More like fashion fragment. Holla. A grammar joke. I’m awesome. And I even hate the phrase “pop your collar.” It implies that it’s a hip, quick, cool movement. It’s not. STOP IT.

Sucker.

Bush's approval rating has dropped to 28%.

(Insert hilarious cartoon fog horn sound effect here)

Track it here. Or here.

The Great Pop Tart Experiment

One day, while sitting in my office expertly switching between some sort of spreadsheet and 3 Googlechat conversations, I made a very rash and immediate decision to try every Pop Tart flavor, thereby determining the very best one.

Thus far, here are the flavors I’ve tried, and their rating (out of 5 stars, mind you). This will now be referred to as “The List” *.

* Please note that all popular Pop Tarts have been removed from The List because everybody already like Strawberry frosted and Brown Cinnamon Sugar Pop Tarts dangit.



Hot Chocolate Pop Tarts - * * * * ½
Cheese Danish Pop Tarts - * *
Strawberry Milkshake Pop Tarts - * * ½
Fudge Sundae Pop Tarts - * * * * ½

Today I started a new journey with Cinnamon Roll Pop Tarts. Will report back later.

Awesome and Necessary Facebook Group Found on Company Time #2

Did anyone else want to shoot that damn dog in Duck Hunt?


OK, I missed the duck. So what? You think that's funny? Keep laughing and we'll see how funny it is!! I'm going to strangle you with the gun cord you bastard!!!

Oh, Canada.

With this story, I can hear Jay Leno's nauseating, predictable monologue a mile away. Come on, Canada. You know that you're the butt of so many jokes here in the states. But this is just too easy.

Pathetic story about Canada's pathetic postal carriers

If only all rewards were this awesome.

Normally when a jackass makes a mistake, we all end up paying for it dearly one way or another. In this case, a thief in Utah has actually made life potentially better for all taco lovers.
A Mexican restaurant owner is willing to give 500 tacos to any person who offers up information about a broken window and a missing $3000.
Dude, I think I'm going to quit my job, buy a van, and start solving crimes. And I'll charge in veggie tacos. And Jarritos. And maybe Mexican beer. . . and salsa . . . and chips. . .pretty much if I solve a crime they can take me out for a Mexican feast. Thank you jackass in Utah!

"I Will Most Likely Not Be Your Friend If. . ."

#1
I will most likely not be your friend if you are one of those guys, or girls, that sits in a public space by yourself and scrolls through every single one of your ringtones. Seriously. Why? No one thinks you're cool. We all have the same crappy ringtones. And no, we don't think you're streaming cool music on an advanced state of the art cell phone. You're an annoying douche. Everyone around thinks so. STOP IT.

Awesome and Necessary Facebook Group Found on Company Time #1

Stop Taking Everything so Seriously Amelia Bedelia!!!

Yeah I joined.

Still disturbing after all these years.

Remember that cartoon The Real Ghostbusters? It was on back in the late 80's and early 90's. OK, well remember the Bogeyman? Holy crap. I don't care what ANYONE says, that monster was, and still is, the creepiest monster ever envisioned. Pretty much put goat legs on anything and it's creepy as hell.

So, what do you do?

I like my job and this is why.

I have my own office (ok, it doesn’t have windows and the walls are painted that nonchalant taupe color, but my name’s on the door). Our kitchen has a Flavia machine. The two of us have a pretty good relationship.
As long as I come in on time, work responsibly, and don’t blast music too loud no one really seems to care what I’m doing. My official title sounds busy and statuesque. I have sweet business cards. The company sends me to conferences and I’m allowed to make them pay for my food. But I’m slowly coming to the realization that it’s not very hard to make a living. If my Mom was here she’s add, “but it IS hard to make a life” and then we’d hug. What’s noteworthy is that out of a 9 hour day, minus the all-important lunch hour, it amazes me how I’ve perfected the Art of Multitasking. YouTube, Facebook, MySpace, googlechat, various, actual work related documents (Word, Excel, Outlook), and somehow I accomplish more than enough and still find enough time to talk myself out of closing my door and napping; forehead to desk.

Oh, God bless day jobs.

Yeah, nice try.

Leaving work. What a great feeling. You flip off your computer, flip the phone to voicemail, grab your bag and you're off. Yesterday, as I was leaving, I had to drop a FedEx package before I headed home. As I was getting off the elevator I realized I forgot my jacket upstairs. So I dropped off the package and headed back towards the elevators. A gentleman had just stepped off an elevator so I hopped in before it closed. I chose poorly. This "gentleman" blew a rank one in the elevator before he got to the lobby. And the elevator sealed its filthy aroma for me. This guy thought he was going to get away with it. He thought no one would ever know. But I knew. Good Lord, how I knew. That's not exactly how you want to end your day of work. So how about it elevator farters? Why not leave your gaseous ass for the outside world where it can diffuse, not closed quarters used by an entire building? Thanks.

Andrew

I'M BORRRRRREED!!!!!@!$#: A Brief Introduction

We sit in chairs. We look at computers. We're surrounded by Post-its, pens, and coffee mugs. We chat with friends online and dick around on Myspace and Facebook for hours on end. Google is our best friend.

Occasionally we do work. Ahem. "Work."

You know us; we work in an office. We put in 8 hours a day, 5 days a week like everyone else. The difference is we're not big important hot shot execs. We're "administrative assistants" and "assistants to the. . ." and "associates." We don't do the real work. That's because we don't have to. That's not why we were hired. That's their job. We answer phones and send faxes. If you want more from us, pay up. If not, then we'll continue to try and look busy when the boss walks by. You know the tricks: sit up straight, have an important business-like website/document ready, furrow your brow and shuffle papers, etc.

We're bored. Very, very bored. And since we can't drink on the job . . . legally . . . we're doing this. It's not much, but at least we get paid for it. And I'll drink to that.

Andrew