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us·er pool [yü-zer pül] 

In the world of technology, a User is someone who uses a computer. More specifically, it's someone who asks stupid questions about the use of that computer.

In the context of this blog, a Pool refers to an available supply, the use of which is shared by a group.

At one of the largest entertainment companies in Los Angeles, my job is to provide technical direction and support to these users, many of whom are female. That's where things get a little messy...

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Entries in human resources (10)


7 Plagues for Human Resources

Last week was the last straw for Human Resources. First they made me take down the "666" office number I had put up, and now they won't approve me putting "Antichrist" on my business cards. How ridiculous. 

Other run-ins with HR, just to cite a few more examples: 

So I decided last week to take action and punish HR with 7 plagues. 

1. The Fuck Virus: I had my programmer Maharajapuram create an Outlook virus that converts "Thank" to "Fuck" and "Thanks" to "Fuck you" with the auto correct function. Then Gladstone had one of his desktop support analysts install it on specific HR computers.  

There were some good emails that slipped out from HR on Tuesday.  

  • I'd like to fuck the person responsible for...
  • Fuck you very much...
  • We just want to fuck all the employees... 
  • And of course, the company-wide email closing with: Fuck you all, from Human Resources

Once they figured it out, Gladstone told them that it was a known virus you can get if you open an email with subject line "Donkey Show." Why would you open something like that? he asked, appalled. They denied it vehemently.

2. The Donkey Show Video Virus: Gladstone's desktop analyst also installed another Maharajapuram Outlook virus to ignite one day later. This virus spams all company contacts with an email containing a Tijuana donkey show video. Gladstone went back to HR and said, Why would you open another email with the subject line "Donkey Show Video" after what happened the day before??

3. Chicken Shit: Did you know you can buy live chickens in Chinatown? HR came into work on Thursday and found chicken shit everywhere. Computers, desks, chairs. Everywhere. Oh, and some chickens. Oddly, the security camera didn't record anything that night. But there was a message left on the wall written in chicken blood (or tomato paste. One of the two). It read: "Alcada was here." Pangbourn, the executive sponsor of the Emergency Response Team was informed immediately and now the building is on 24/7 terrorist alert.

4.  Locusts (sort of): Did you know that you can buy 250 live crickets from a novelty store? Kessler and I unleashed them in HR's area Friday night. Oddly, the security camera won't record anything again. They can pretty much chalk this one up to something supernatural and most likely satanic. 

Although these plagues were obviously caused by malicious hackers, terrorists, and potentially Satan himself, once I'm through with them, I'm hoping HR will require that I put "Antichrist" on my business cards.

I need three more plagues for HR for this week. I welcome any suggestions you may have...


Jason Y

After being dead for only a week, the Company has already replaced me with another Jason. My death was only a vicious rumor started by my boss, who actually doesn't even exist. So how true could it really be?

But even though Smithee doesn't really exist, he has apparently earned a great deal of credibility within this company. According to subordinates and peers, there is nobody more honest and sincere than the man I made up. 

Only Payroll knew it was a false rumor because I told them so. Finance, on the other hand, considered it fact since they found out through Human Resources, a department which is infallible, much like the Bible. HR has wanted me dead for quite some time now, so when they heard the rumor they immediately substantiated it and asked Finance to free up the headcount. 

Mulhausen immediately replaced me with his nephew, another technology manager named Jason, who he felt could do the job more than adequately. Fernandez had no part in the hire, so he was pissed off because the position has a dual reporting relationship to both Mulhausen and Fernandez through Smithee. 

Although neither Mulhausen nor Fernandez were happy to see me alive, Fernandez was happy that Mulhausen had fucked up.

Besides Payroll, Blair was the only other one who didn't think I was really dead. She thought maybe I had entered the FBI witness protection program because I had been involved in something really shady and had to rat out all my shady business partners--but not death. No, not until she saw my cold dead body would she believe I was actually dead. 

Either way, I thought she'd at least be happy to see me. But she too was disappointed. Apparently she had taken a liking to the new Jason, like everyone else. 

"Did you see the movie Castaway with Tom Hanks?" she asked. "At some point you have to give up hope and move on with your life."

"He was on the island for five years," I said. "I was 'dead' for a week."

"You know I don't have a long attention span," she said. "At least we have our memories."

So Jason X has been replaced by Jason Y across the board. Maybe I should stop playing jokes on people. As fun as they are, I really fuck myself up with them...

Mulhausen and Fernandez called in both Finance and HR to help resolve the double Jason issue.

"Well," Triplet, the VP of HR, began slowly, obviously with no real plan in her head. "You were dead, so we replaced you."

"I was never dead," I said. "So you'll just have to unreplace me."

Mulhausen chimed in: "Jason is very likeable."

"Thank you," I said.

"The other Jason," Mulhausen clarified.

"Well," I said. "I like myself. A lot. That makes me likeable too. You screwed up, so fix it."

Fernandez jumped in: "We'll just get rid of Jason. Fair's fair."

Mulhausen: "Agreed."

Fernandez: "No, the other Jason. Not this Jason."

Muhausen: "Oh, then not agreed."

Fernandez and Mulhausen argued back and forth for a few minutes until Kornfeld, the Director of Finance, interrupted:

"I have a solution," he said. "Keep them both. I'll just mortgage a headcount from next year."

I looked at Kornfeld sideways, as did everyone else.

Kornfeld continued: "I can't increase headcount for this year, so I'll mortgage a head from the increase in headcount we're going to get next year. We don't own it yet; we just borrow it until we do."

"What if they cut headcount next year?" I asked.

"Then we'll move to plan B."

"Which is?"


Now I share an office with Jason Y. And I'm finding that he is actually very likable, which is another reason I hate him.

I started the new year off with a bang, all right...


How to Steal Cookies from a 13-Year-Old

Pangbourn drugged and then had sex with his assistant's 13-year-old sister when she tried to sell him Girl Scout cookies

Since Pangbourn has contributed so much to this company, including the Bomb Threat Checklist, Human Resources has decided that this means he has done nothing wrong.

Also, given the incident happened over a week ago, HR says enough time has passed that we should all just move on. 

HR issued this statement:

Whatever you think about this so-called "horrific, indisputably grotesque crime," it would be irresponsible of this organization to ignore the monumental contributions Pangbourn has made that have directly impacted this company's bottom line. 

Debra, his assistant, has forgiven Pangbourn, since her 13-year-old sister is too young to really understand the concept. We do, however, anticipate that when she's reached the age of 45, she will long since gotten over it and ultimately forgive him completely.

Regardless, the Girl Scouts of America are not satisfied. It seems that after the rape Pangbourn did not give the girl money for the cookies he took. They had this to say:

Apparently in this country a man with executive status can get away with drugging and raping a Girl Scout and not pay one dime for her cookies. We are not going to let him get away with this.

While the police have been notified, apparently they have their hands full with all the blatant violations of the new laws regarding the use of mobile phones while driving. They won't be available for comment until early next year. 

One of Pangbourn's executive peers also commented:

Osmund: Since it was just rape and not rape-rape, and definitely not rape-rape-rape, I don't know what the big deal is. Just because someone is drugged and repeatedly says "no" to forced intercourse, doesn't mean you have been rape-raped or even rape-rape-raped. He's an executive for god sake. What did she ever do for this company? She sold a few cookies. Get a real job, then come complain.

Before HR had issued their statement, it was thought that Pangbourn had gone into hiding. However it was later discovered that he was actually just stuck in the bathroom, having been penguined by Kessler.

Sooner or later, as long as Kessler is around, executives at this company will pay for their crimes.  



HR called me down for questioning on Monday regarding the Bloody Presentation incident.

Triplet, the VP of HR, offered me a seat, then paced around me like a blood thirsty buzzard. Her fantasies of being "The Closer" were more alive than ever. She must have just watched an episode the night before. 

She showed me exhibit "A", the bloody presentation.

"Someone get a nose bleed?" I asked.

She stopped in front of me and gave me a scrutinizing eye--as if she could determine with just a look if I were lying.

"No," she said. "We suspect this is menstrual blood." 

"Someone used Fernandez' presentation as a tampon?" I asked.

Triplet did not like this comment as represented with a sneer.

"Fernandez believes you're responsible," she said.

"Not possible," I said. "I'm not expecting my period for another two weeks."

Heavy sigh.

"Fernandez believes you had sex on his desk with a woman who was on her period," she said.

"I would never have sex on his desk with a woman who was on her period." 

Triplet squinted her eyes at me. "And if she wasn't on her period?"

"I don't have sex, period," I said. "No pun intended."

"Really..." she said with cynicism. "Why is that?"

"I'm married." 

Triplet hates when she can't intimidate me. The more she tries to intimidate me, the less intimidated I become. The less intimidated I become, the more intimidated she becomes. The more intimidated she becomes, the more frustrated she becomes and eventually abandons her fantasy of being "The Closer". 

At that point she sat down at her desk.

"Can you account for your whereabouts last Thursday night?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "I was in a tree."

"More therapy?"

"Not that kind of a tree," I said.

"Who can verify that?"

"The woman who was up in the tree with me."

"What were you doing up in a tree with a woman?"

"Bird watching."

"At night?"

"Damn," I said. "Is that why we didn't see any birds?"

Triplet just shook her head. She picked up her pen ready to scribble.

"What was the woman's name?"

"She wants to remain anonymous," I said. "Her husband doesn't like her bird watching."

When I left Triplet in her office, she was completely frustrated. But she should be used to that by now. She just can't win. I don't know why she even tries anymore.

Fernandez has been pissy all week. Kessler has been happy all week.

I love my job.  


The Return of Blair

I walked into work on Tuesday sane for the first time in a month. HR did not believe my mental stability had improved, but that the poor economy had redefined what sanity really was. HR now has an algorithm they use to determine an employee's mental state:

where p1 = (x1,y1),

    p2 = (x2, y2),

            x and y are both increasing from p1 to p2,

            Sanity = x2 - x1,

            Insanity = y2 - y1 and

            Sanity>= Insanity

Basically, you can't be insane because the poor economy is making everyone insane, so if you are insane, it's a clear indication that you're actually sane.

Blair immediately got back together with me. 

Now that everyone believes I'm sane except Maricruz, Blair is now convinced that Maricruz is insane

And if Maricruz is insane, everything she said about me having an affair with her had to be the false ramblings of a lunatic. 

So Blair is back and our relationship couldn't be stronger. Before noon she had already broken up with me and gotten back together with me twice. Everything was back to normal again.

That night I took her to see Watchmen and a lot of blue dick and balls. She was both repulsed and turned on. So I tried to get her to suck my dick in the theater. But too many people.

Early in our relationship we used to go to see crappy movies at this theater because nobody would be there and we could fuck in the back row. 

I'm afraid we've reached that comfortable, settled phase in our adulterous relationship. 

I did, however, bend her over the trunk of my car and fuck her in the parking lot after the movie. 

Settled or not, it ain't marriage.