Monday, September 24, 2007


A shout out to the hard working human beings posting on Overheard in the Office.
Sweet mother, the working world is so awesome.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Office Space was a really. . .sad movie?

For those of you who haven't seen Office Space, shame on you. I can't even imagine an acceptable excuse as to why you might have avoided this movie over the past 8 years. Anyway, I'm going to assume all of you have seen it. Without further ado. . .

Office Space: The Drama

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

T-Minus Zero Days

I’ve been thinking about what I should write. Obviously, there’s a humungous buildup; we’ve (I’ve) been talking about it for months. Originally, I had planned a fairly bad-ass video post, but, as it turns out, my camera is far too crappy to handle everything I wanted to show. The “Everything I Wanted to Show” category included the sweet t-shirt I broke down and bought even though I am almost always vehemently opposed to popular band shirts, the promotionally brilliant artist-designed Hanson playing cards that I will now be caring around everywhere, even though I rarely play cards, and several facial examples of the orgy of fans (both male and female. thanks.) sitting at the bar behind us and dancing on the floor below us. I was also pretty pumped to have my roommate, Tyler, help me recreate the scene we witnessed involving a man trying to video record the concert, getting kicked out, and his girlfriend crying and screaming at him for it. In the middle of the street. Ah, the lives we lead.

Here’s the bottom line. Everyone who attended the Sept. 16th, 9:30 Club Hanson performance with me readily apologized for ever mocking my deep-seeded adoration or the band. Why? Because they’re not only fantastic, they’re a whole mass of variety , moving between a stripped down acoustic set and a full band jam session complete with the crowd on backing vocals. In addition, the band pays tribute to all their albums, something a lot of bands fail to do. It’s pretty impossible to be unhappy about anything in life when there’s a reference made to a certain 10-year Anniversary, and all three brothers start in on the infectiously cheerful “MmmBop”; Harder still, when Taylor Hanson’s son is dancing around in the green room balcony wearing those air-traffic controller head phones.

So, here’s the new rule (and I’m allowed to make up rules). Before you die, see Hanson in concert. I don’t care how hipster you think you are, sometimes what you think of as pop music is really rock and roll and sometimes catchy bands take ten years and transform themselves, even if no one's paying attention. Plus, as we've mention before, A*Cube is all about things that are so awesome and unexpected they're, let's face it, kind of funny. On a final note - I have Bad Ass Hanson Mixes available for anyone interested. That would be everyone.

Cards I will be continuously attached to.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

In case you weren't aware, Harry Potter is equivalent to the Holocaust

I'm still in shock from this, so I'm sorry if I don't know how to begin. OK, Kerri sent me a link to this MySpace page. Look at it carefully. Looks like a normal club page right? Stupid graphics, terrible music. Wait. . .what's this? "Dry Bar" and "Private Prayer Rooms"? OK. So it's a Christian club. We can all agree that it's probably incredibly ridiculous and hilarious at the same time. If I lived in Colorado, I'd totally go check it out, but I'd probably be embarrassed the whole time and keep repeating "I'm sorry, Jesus."

Anyway, the music on the page is by this guy named Aviad Cohen. On the surface, he looks like a Christian DJ. But when you go to his website, you'll discover very quickly that this guy is more psychotic than he is Christian. He is about as severely fundamentalist as they come. Like. . .SCARY fundamentalist. Not, "LOL Pat Robertson your an idiot!!1RoFL!!" This guy is frightening.

You can check it out HERE for yourself. Under the "Interact" button, click "get a free CD." This is where the insanity begins. You can read the whole thing, but I'm going to pull a few quotes for you. Ahem:

"Just like many people don’t realize how harmful Harry Potter is to children AND ADULTS. It is a catastrophic epidemic similar to the Holocaust. Instead of Adolf Hitler raising up Nazi youth, it’s J.K. Rowling who is raising up Wiccan youth."

I'm sorry. That was a big one to start off with. Are you still breathing? OK. Let's take a step back.

"To top it off, for all you car aficionados who love the Lamborghini Diablo, I’d like to inform you that Diablo translates to “devil” What? You don't believe me? Look it up. Interesting to see how the devil plays a slight of hand trick on people by hiding his identity, yet presents himself through "Golden Calf-like" objects that are celebrated and revered as desirable, slick, attractive, fun, if you “literally roll with Satan" in the case of riding in the Lamborghini Diablo. . ."

Idiot. Alright, back to trashing Harry Potter.

"Harry Potter is being used to indoctrinate a generation into Wicca, encourage and educate children and adults on how to easily practice witchcraft, cast spells, all the while to keep people away from their Creator and ensnare them into a tasty web of demonic deceit. Be careful. The J.K. Rowling spider’s plan is to suck every bit of spirit out of you and inject demonic poison into your veins. This is real. Notice how her books look very similar in size to "Bibles" . . ."

Sigh. Keep going.

"And oh yes, Lord of the Rings is a witchcraft-based cult. It’s not a book, it's not an animation, it’s not a movie, it’s not a soundtrack, it’s not a game or a set of action figures – it’s a cult. Evil. So is Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion The Witch & The Wardrobe. Who put out the movie version? Disney. The MAGIC KINGDOM. Not God's Kingdom. Disney is the MAGIC KIGNDOM. God abhors magic and sorcery. Disney sells it to children from an early age. Disney's REAL CEO is SATAN HIMSELF. No joke. Too obvious."

Sooooo obvious.

This mental defect goes on to say that if you mail your Harry Potter and LOTR books to his record label. . .Hebrew Homie Records. . .sigh. . .he'll DESTROY THEM and in return you'll get an autographed CD that I'm sure will be the shittiest thing you've ever heard. They'll even pay S&H for the free CD!!!!!!! WOW!!!!! Seriously, people like this shouldn't be allowed to have websites or even go near the internet. And I can GUARANTEE you that he's never even read a Harry Potter book based on his assessments. I don't recall bullet pointed step by step instructions in the 7 book series on how to EASILY do any of the made up spells. And if you read various posts by fans on the site, it's clear that same of them come from Jewish backgrounds. How are they not EXTREMELY offended by Harry Potter = Holocaust?

There are too many ridiculous things to point out. You do the rest. This is exhausting.

Oh, and if I didn't mention it already, he also goes by 50 Shekel.

50. Shekel.

Despite the Horrible and Offensive Headline...

MMMBack: Hanson

Love it or hate it, "MMMBop" became a pop classic that offered one last breath of innocence before the rise of real boy bands, little Mariah Careys and rap-rock nasties. Hanson's days were numbered, and, when the young trio began making more mature alternative pop, it was shunned by radio and MTV alike. That's too bad, because the new "The Walk" is a strong effort.

» 9:30 Club, 815 V St. NW; Sun., 7:30 p.m., $30; 202-265-0930. (U St.-Cardozo)

Source: The Washington Post Express. Sept. 13, 2007 Edition.

T-Minus 3 days.

Ape Girls, You Know Who You Are

In every culture and form of civilization there are different social acceptances. In the time of the greeks, togas were high fashion and thongs were on everyone's feet; in the middle ages men wore kilts, and in the late 70's and early 80's, neon tights were all the rage. Even amongts people's actual physique there were standards to be upheld. All through time, men: tall, dark and handsome. Women, however have had the luck of variety. There were periods where being pasty pale as if a woman never had seen the light of day was considered beauty and now the appearance of timeless skin is the focal point. But NEVER in the history of mankind has it been acceptable for a woman to have a beard!! Yet still, there are some women that feel the need to flaunt their facial deformity.

Now as a male, I know women are and always will be "fuzzy." "Fuzzy" is acceptable. We get it; we aren't stupid. We know that women have a tendancy to have some sort of "barely noticable except when we cuddle close" fuzz. NO BIG DEAL. The problem comes when a woman who for whatever reason developes actual facial hair. I was horrified tonight to discover that a new woman on my shift actually has a "bootstrap" style beard! When i first met her, granted we work at night and the lighting here is below par to say the least, but needless to say, I failed to notice the beard. Tonight I spoke directly to her as the sun was coming up over DC. It was as though the sun itself brought the beard forth from her face. A solid bootstrap beard from ear to underchin to ear!

WOMEN, I CANNOT MAKE MYSELF ANY MORE CLEAR ON THE FOLLOWING POINT: Your husband loves you. Your children love you. Your parents love you. But if you look in the mirror, see your beard and do nothing about it, you are wrong and do not deserve the love of the afformentioned people.

There are two exceptions to this rule:
1. A women who is in the process of a sex change - it's a lengthy ordeal and we should all be sensitive to your frailties during this period
2. Ape Girl- a relative of the wolf man.

Please women: if you know someone or are "bff" with someone with unsightly facial hair, please be a true friend and inform them of their problem.

"Evil prevails when good men (*and women) do nothing."

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Silence is Golden

As a child, I remember hearing and seeing this phrase all the time when I went to the movies. I read it on the screen, other people in the theatre repeated it (usually mockingly), and I think my grandma might have said it to me at one point or another when I was being obnoxious.

But times, they are a-changing and its high-time this phrase was applied to blogging. Not Anchored Cubicle, mind you, which provides humor and witty insight, but for all those people out there who use blogs to write deeply and passionately about their life. Or who just write stupid blibber blabber.

That's right. Blibber blabber.

I've scoured the web and collected some of the most ridiculous things I could find posted on blogs. And commented on them, of course.

"Because, despite my personal satisfaction and relative success level (and every little bit helps in this world), I know for a fact, 100%, that I can do better.
And I am on the threshhold right now."

You're on the threshhold? Really? Well, please jump off of it. Now. And curl yourself up like you're doing a cannon-ball. And hold your breath. And don't stop, just in case the fall isn't enough to kill you.

"What's wrong with me? I'm moderately busy and have a great group of friends... but I'm lonely."

Maybe you're just not that busy and your friends really aren't that great. Time to evaluate.

"My eyes are sparkling today. Not when you look at them... from the inside out. I'm up to the brim in faerie dust. I feel like if someone were to cut my neck and let my head swing, fountains of faerie dust would bubble out. I haven't felt this way for so long. "

Wait - this isn't the first time you've actually felt that if someone cut your neck, faerie dust would bubble out? If this was your first time, I wouldn't be too concerned - its a fairly common thing. Like diarrhea. But you know what the say: if diarrhea persists for more than three days, consult your doctor.

"I could write about so many more things in my life, but I just don't feel like it. I don't know what it is, but I just don't feel like documenting my life for anyone, and I don't really want to share my feelings."

Ummh...then don't write anything at all. I mean, you do know that by writing that you "don't feel" like documenting your life and sharing your feelings , you are, in fact, documenting your life and sharing your feelings. Betch.

"If I didn't know what it felt like to be free, I would have gone insane by now...well, I have, already, but I would have likely been unable to revert the damage. "

I welcome any and all responses to this because I'm lost.

"I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get."

Not true. Let me break this down. Its called a "job." Which will earn you a "paycheck." Which allows you the opportunity to "buy" the things you're going need. And if you're talking about not being satisfied with the untangible things in your life, then stop wasting your time writing about it, get off your ass, and do something about it.

"It's puzzling to me, how we dismsis the older generations. They are crazy, they are becoming senile...they are losing it. I wonder what would happen if we started taking them most seriously of all. After all, aren't they closest to the other side? Whatever that is. Aren't they, in the same way as babies to our own species, the most susceptible? The most impressionable? Shouldn't we be listening to them?"

NO! You just said they are crazy, senile, and losing it! Why would we listen to them? You say that we should maybe take them seriously because they're the closest to the other side, which is the strangest way to imply that someone has aquired wisdom, and then immediately compare them to babies because they are "susceptible" (to what, I wonder) and "impressionable." That's like saying that someone is both like and elephant and an ant. Shut up. You're not deep. You're not enlightened. You want us to listen to old, senile, wise, impressionable babies. Great. You're blog rocks.

Bloggers everywhere, heed my advice: don't take yourselves so effing seriously in your blogs and try to write something deep and personal. That's what private journals are for. Tell a funny story. Give mundane details of of the generic events of your day. Make fun of someone. Write some social commentary. Type "betch" over and over again.

Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch. Betch.

It is so true, that's why it's funny. Because it's so true, hence funny.

I've read every single one of these phrases on Craigslist looking for jobs. I'll reference this every time I look for a job from now on. It will probably save me a lot of time.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Take that, (insert subculture here)!!!!

I just updated my MySpace bio. It was about time too. It had only been up there for like 2 years. Uhg. Anyway, I wanted to share with you all my new, er, bios. Enjoy.

Here are a variety of bios. Read accordingly, depending on what "group" or "subculture" you belong to.

Andrew's normal bio:
Andrew is a 23 year-old singer/songwriter from Chicago. He writes melodic acoustic songs about love, life, politics, and war. He has released one EP that has sold in the single digits. He hopes to release a new album in the next few months that people probably won't buy.

Andrew's emo/screamo bio:
Andrew has made it through 23 tear-soaked years only to find his black heart bleeding in the lonely Chicago area. His only friend, a guitar, accompanies him through the long, cold nights as he strums chords melodically with his black fingernails. As his long, trendy hair hangs over one eye, he whispers about his veins bleeding black bloody fiery blood. He sings "She broke my heart/Torn pictures lay across my darkened room/Swim in an ocean/An ocean of despair." Andrew is hoping to release an album that will detail the tragedies of his misery-laden life.

Andrew's metal bio:

Like the sound of a million dying souls on fire, Andrew lays down scorching riff after deafening scorching riff that obliterates all that is good and true. His life is set to the soundtrack of weeping demons who haunt every beat of his ever tortured heart. . .which is also blackened with hate. His heart, though ripped of all love, still thunders like an unrelenting double bass, as though the darkest of all black dying dead red bloody fiery skulls (with snakes coming out of the eyes) are about to burst from his chest and rain down sulfur and fear upon all his enemies, thereby causing them to die instantly. . .from PAIN. His next agony filled album is due out soon, and is tentatively titled The Bloody Agony of Black Death Hate Murder.

Andrew's high school girl bio:

OMG. Like no one understands me!!1 Its like totally like unfair. :( mY paretns are sooooo mean!@ anD i hate going to school. If it werent 4 my frends, i'd like totly hate it even MORE!! ROFL!!! <3 I luv muh frinds!! Im totaly learning to play the guiter and i'm writing a lot of songs about that special somoen ;) <3 tee HEE!! ^_^ but WTF is like they totaly dont even knwo i exist! :'( I'm going to record some of my osngs and call the ablum "WTF ROFL 4-EVA!!!!" ROFLMFAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Andrew's pretentious hipster bio:

I was going to write a bio, but then I realized you wouldn't understand any of my references, jokes, influences, subtle humour, or intelligent observations about the music scene today. So I'm not going to waste my time. I'm going to go read the New Yorker and listen to my extensive rare vinyl collection on my vintage headphones and smoke my Parliaments.

Andrew's right-wing Christian bio:

First off, Andrew would like to thank George W. Bush . . . er, Jesus Christ for making it possible for him to play music. He has been blessed with gifts and abilities that he wishes to use to further the name of the Republican Par. . .I mean, God. Andrew's songs truly glorify his Heavenly Father. He does this by rhyming the words "love" and "sent from above" in every song. When he blesses the congregation with his songs, the Spirit just fills that place. I want to lift up a prayer right now. Father God, just, in this place it's just, tonight in this place just, we just want to worship you in this place Father God. Bless the President's Holy authoritarian rule in the White House. Give him wisdom to defeat evil in terrorist nations. Amen.

If you have a subculture you want me to skewer, left me know. Peace.

Friday, September 7, 2007

In keeping with today's theme, for those who have not yet read this magnificence, I give you - striped shirt....

*EDIT* Article borrowed from

Look at my button down striped shirt! Fucking look at it! This shirt means one thing! I'm coming home with some pussy tonight! That's right! It's been a long week at the office and it's time to blow off a little steam! I am a Junior Vice President! I have business cards that say "Junior Vice President" on them! They're glossy and magnificent! Here! Have one! Take it!

My boys are coming out with me tonight! They all have striped shirts too!

I figure we'll kick off the night with some Golden Tee! I am going to smack the shit out of that little white ball! It's going to be so fucking loud! I'll bet I can drive that pretend golf ball 600 fucking yards tonight! I'm that fucking pumped!

I can almost taste those Jager Bombs right now! I fucking love Red Bull! I put it on my God damned cereal! I'm crushing one right now!

I'm thinking about buying a boat this year!

I'm gonna fight someone tonight! I pray to God someone makes eye contact with me! I will beat his ass! And God help him if he gets any blood on my striped shirt! If he does, I'll scrub it out with his dick and some bleach! I mean it!

I'm gonna grind on girls asses tonight! You heard me! When I see a group of girls dancing in a circle, I will select the most attractive one and dry hump her until it hurts! I will rub my cock against her so that she can feel my throbbing hard on!

I will valet tonight!I will treat the valet with contempt and make sure that he knows that I am superior to him in life! I will tell him to "Take it easy on the brakes, Champ"!

I will talk to people I don't know about my job tonight! They will all know that I am an important man! I will call female bartenders "Babe" and male bartenders "Chief"!

When I do not hook up with a girl at that club, I will say that the place is "full of skanks"! We will wait in a long line to go to another bar only to strike out again!

I will give up and decide to order a gyro off of a street vendor! I will make fun of him to my friends for being foreign! I will look ridiculous purchasing my gyro because people will be able to tell by my striped shirt and tinted sunglasses that I struck out and am settling for a gyro!

I will make one last attempt to hook up by trying to coax two big girls who are also ordering gyros to coming back to my place for "after hours"! When they say no I will make fun of them for being fat! I will leave!

When I get home I will go to the bathroom and hold the straight razor to my wrist again! I will gently drag the razor laterally against my vein, making sure not to actually cut myself!

I will then go to my room and pass out! I will need some shut eye so that I'll be ready to fucking party again tomorrow!

Thursday, September 6, 2007

I am so fucking important

By: Charles B. Morgan II
Vice President of Sales for GlobeTech Communications Inc.

To many people, I am many different things. To my wife, I am a loving husband. To my children, I am a supportive father. To my friends, I am a golfing buddy. But these relationships exist outside the office where I spend a majority of my time. The people there would certainly sing a different tune about me. Because on the 15th floor of GlobeTech Communications Inc., I am the fucking man. Everyone else is shit. I am so fucking important.
I get up at 4:30 AM every morning. I get up so early the fucking newspaper hasn't even arrived yet. I get up before the news does. How do you like that shit? And when the paper does come, the paperboy hands it to me personally, because he knows I'm a fucking bad ass who knows the deal. What time do you get up? 7:00 AM? 7:30? That's bullshit. I've been at the office closing deals for at least an hour by the time you're pulling your lazy ass out of bed. Who's the man? You're damn right it's me!
Only bitches take public transportation to work. I pull up into my personal parking spot rolling hard in a Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren. My car is worth more than your life, dick! Don't look at my car and don't even think about parking in my spot. Read the fucking sign. "VP of Sales." That's not you. I'd put my foot up your ass, but I wouldn't want to scuff my Tanino Crisci's. And no, you can't get these at JC Penny. Get me my coffee, bitch.
When I get on the elevator, I tell people to get off and wait for the next one. They oblige because they know how much of a fucking gangsta I am. Sometimes a newbie will choose to stay on the elevator. I'll nod politely. But when we part ways, I'll find the newbie's supervisor, have the kid fired, his name smeared, and have his family driven out of town. I've done that all from my Blackberry before. Owned.
My office is the shit! See that portrait behind my desk? That's my fucking face. Can you read the gold plaque there at the bottom? It says "The Fucking Man." Even after I'm dead, this portrait will remain in this office because no one else who steps foot in this room could ever be more important than me.
My desk is solid West Indian mahogany. Straight up. They don't just give these away to anyone. You've got to be super-mega-ultra-fucking important like your's truly. And don't even think about putting your feet on my desk or I will jam my golf putter into your eye socket, gouge out your eyeball, and do 18 holes with it after work. Speaking of golf, I fucking SCORCH the course with my game!
After a luncheon, I never clean up after myself or throw any of my own shit away. I'll leave greasy wrappers, sticky plates, stale coffee cups, and piles of crumbs all over the place. After I eat it, I am no longer responsible. Some other office bitch will come clean it up for me because I'm a fucking slob! I have no sense of consideration or concern for anyone other than myself. You don't need to when you're as fucking important as me. Shit, yeah!
Nice tie. Where'd you purchase it? Your asshole? Do us all a favor and go home and hang yourself with it. Hell yes! I'm amazing!
I use phrases like "Going forward," "Action item," "In the black" and "Right-shoring" because it makes me sound hella fucking awesome! I know all the lingo. If you don't understand it, too bad. That's why you're cleaning up my lunch shit.
Speaking of shit, someone call me a limo. I'm brewing a fucking important dump! I never take a shit in this building. There is no way my ass would touch the same seat as one of these people. I have a private bathroom two blocks from here where only I am allowed to drop a VIP log. And after every shit, I have them replace the toilet. Booyah!
I never smile. I will acknowledge you in one of two ways: a wink or a nod. A wink means I fucking hate you. And nod means I am filled with repugnance and disgust when I see your face. If I like you, you'll have the honor of shaking my hand. But only I may initiate. If you hold out your hand to me, so help me God, I'll have my taxidermist cut off your ass, stuff it, and place it on the wall in my office. If you do shake my hand, you get one pump and one pump only. And if it's not firm, I swear by all things holy that the next thing you'll be shaking is an Arby's cup when you're on the corner asking for change. And when I see you on that corner, I'll extend my hand to you. When you accept, and place your hand in mine, I'll break your fingers and steal your change. Fucker!
When I arrive at my home after work, I kiss my wife, ask her how her day was, and eat dinner. I enjoy a glass of fine wine, and tell her I had a "good day." I sometimes call my children at college and tell them I am proud of them. When I lay down to go to sleep, I think about how blessed I am to have the life and family that I do. After a few moments, I will drift off to sleep and have sweet dreams. . .about how super fucking important I am.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007


if you are having yet another conversation about the news at work - a pointless conversation because all that you offer is exaggerations and twisted bits and pieces of already one-sided news that you twist yet again for the sake of attention and gossip - and you happen to be talking about michael vick... again - and someone restates the facts saying that he is in trouble for dogfighting -

do not, i repeat, do not respond with something like "in China they do that with people" in front of your CHINESE BOSS who just got back from a 2 week vacation in CHINA and who has heard you make a number of the same type of comments.

people like you make me feel ignorant just for not leaving the room. if ever in any society they "did that with people" i would hope that they would pit (no pun intended) the idiots of the world against each other.

basically - if you are an inconsiderate, ignorant, oblivious moron and you have a thought - any thought really - just let it go.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

You Try and Do Something Nice For Somebody...

I wanted to get Hawley something totally amazing for the prize she won last week. So, of course I immediately consulted EBay looking for JTT paraphernalia. It only took me about 35 seconds to find IT. IT being a Jonathan Taylor Thomas Mini Fact Book. I bid. I waited. Then at the last possible second some guy swooped in and outbid me. He was watching a $4 Jonathan Taylor Thomas Mini Fact Book on EBay.

So, I apologize, but apparently JTT's life story as of 1996 is too hot a commodity for A*Cubed. Hawley will be receiving a hand drawn (read: perfect) card and a box of Hot Chocolate Pop Tarts.

Stayed tuned for more contests with sweeter prizes. Seriously... I'm on it.

T Minus 12 Days

"The Club"

ashleigh. in da club.
enough said.