So I had a request today at work to come up with a team name. The way our desks are set up, there are copy writers on one side of our area and visual creative on the other side. Well, often times when our project managers come in to discuss a project with us, they often walk into the center of our area and start talking; usually with something like “hey you guys.” That usually prompts everyone to turn around. Well, sometimes the copy writers are not needed for this discussion and it causes them to break their focus and turn around to listen to something they don’t need to be involved in.
So today, my project manager thought it would be fun to have us come up with, essentially, a team name for the visual side so she can just say that and everyone knows she’s addressing us. And she’s very nice, bubbly, and generally a polite person. So, being the way she is, I am hoping I can convince the two other designers to accept the team name, “Losers”. Just because I think it would be hilarious when every time she came over to talk to us about anything she would have to say, “hey losers.” I have until tomorrow, fairly early morning to make this happen.
I really hate that I can’t have tumblr at work. It’s blocked. Obviously Facebook bullshit is okay, but not my tumblr. It sucks. And, sure, I do have it on my phone, but I hate doing this kind of stuff on a phone. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I like a full keyboard. Besides, it’s much easier to tab over to tumblr here and there rather than staring down at my phone. I would give just about anything to have tumblr throughout my full day. When I come home after a long day, it’s hard to be here. I just want to sit and watch something and unwind. Jumping on the social internet isn’t typically my first response. I guess what I’m saying is that I miss you guys.
Abercrombie & Fitch is a brand name that everyone knows. It is associated with the cool crowd. Everybody wants to be seen wearing Abercrombie clothes. It means your hip, and fly, and everybody wants to hang out with you because you’re cool. It means you’re thin, and hot, and have a body image better than everyone else. People like you. You’re popular. An Abercrombie t-shirt says so. And you only want to hang out with other super hot people in Abercrombie clothes too. That’s what my clothing is all about.
However, there is a growing problem that I am aware of and it’s starting to run out of control. Apparently, fat chicks are wearing my clothes. This is an unacceptable trend that I must put an end to. Fat chicks are not cool. Nobody likes fat chicks. Abercrombie is a clothing line that represents what’s cool and popular and fat chicks are totally not cool. Abercrombie brand clothes are for hot chicks only. I don’t want fat bitches wearing my clothes. I mean, if you go waddling around like some fat fucking wildebeest wearing an Abercrombie t-shirt then all the hot, popular kids will get the wrong idea about me.
If you don’t have the body of a three year old corpse then you are too fucking gross to wear Abercrombie clothes. I mean, I only hire hot chicks to work in my store and put up nothing but giant pictures of hot chicks all over; that is not you. You’re gross. Seriously, I only make up to size 10 clothes for chicks. If you can’t fit into that you are way too fucking fat for Abercrombie clothes. I even make my size 10 tight because, let’s face it, if you are an actual size 10 you are already borderline a fat fucking pig. That’s not hot, and I only want hot chicks wearing my clothes. And since I can’t seem to stop my retard employees from selling clothes to any person that wants them, I have to insist that all you fat fucking bitches just don’t even go into my store. Seriously, if you’re a disgusting whale of a woman and you see an Abercrombie & Fitch store in the mall, keep walking your fat fucking ass down to the food court or something.
This is not me being a misogynistic, shallow person so don’t start writing angry letters with donut falling from your fat bitch mouth; it’s just business. They don’t want faggots in the Boy Scouts, and I don’t want fat bitches in Abercrombie shirts. I want my clothes to only be seen on hot chicks because hot chicks are cool and popular; that’s what my business all is about. Nobody likes fat chicks. You’re gross. My clothes are only for cool people and when hot chicks see fat bitches, who aren’t as hot as them, wearing the same shirt it makes them feel not cool. Because that’s what you bitches do. You’re shallow and hate having the same clothes as disgusting fat people. And that reflects on me. It’s like inviting a nerd to my party; all the beautiful, popular people don’t like being associated with those types of people and that will make them think I’m not cool. When you fat fucking cows wear my clothes, it makes all the popular kids think I’m not cool. Seriously, you fat fucking bitches are killing me over here.
So please, if you are fat or even slightly chubby, I don’t want you in my store. You’re not the acceptable demographic to wear my clothes. I don’t make these clothes for you, I make them for hot chicks only. If you own any Abercrombie clothing I must insist that you stop wearing it immediately, you fat fucking yeti. I work very hard to create an unreasonable expectation of beauty and if you don’t fit into that then I don’t want you wearing my clothes. I’m sure you can get decent clothes that’s okay for fat chicks down at the circus store or where ever disgusting fat bitches get clothes. If some day the unfair pressures I force upon women makes you become hot, then you will be allowed back into my stores to pay way too much for clothes again. But for now, please stop wearing my clothes and don’t even think about bringing your fat fucking ass into an Abercrombie & Fitch store or even shop online while you drink butter or whatever fat bitches do. Thank you for your cooperation.
Sincerely no fat chicks,
Mike Jeffries, CEO; Abercrombie & Fitch (edited to my interpretation)
Hi, yeah, can I get some deep fried chicken? Yeah, that’s going to swell in my stomach and make me hurt all night, right?… Great… Yes I want mashed potatoes. That’s like the dumbest question I’ve ever heard. Yes I want the bowl of carbs and gravy fat… Okay… What? To drink? Yeah, I want a sugary soda that’s going to go directly to my gut, but make it something decaffeinated because I want to at least pretend to be a responsible adult… What’s that? Is there anything else? Of course there’s something else. Stop interrupting me. You know that bowl of carbs and gravy fat I already ordered? Yeah, give me another one of those… Now get get all judgy, just put it on there… And, okay, yes I want more things, just shut up a second. Okay, do you have deep fat fried cheese covered in fatty carbs and then cooked in fat?… Yeah, give me one of those… Yes I want the large one. Stop asking me stupid questions. Okay, now… Why are you telling me what my total is? Are you telling me I’ve ordered enough? How, DARE you!… Okay, maybe you’re right… Oh wait, did you get my deep fat cheese on there? Great. And the two bowls of gravy?… Potatoes. What the fuck ever. Okay good… Yes I’m pulling around. Yes I promise I’ll have too pay much money than all of this is worth. Okay, pulling around now. Thanks.
This is probably the part where I post something on tumblr so people don’t think I’m dead.
darksidelawyer replied to your photo: Hey, Marketing Team. You may want to rethink your…
Sales is a messy department.
They’re always getting themselves into sticky situations.
Hey, Marketing Team. You may want to rethink your short hand a bit. I mean, seriously; you have to stop making me giggle like a 5 year old everyday. Let’s be professionals.
Every once in a while in a man’s life, he’s sitting in front of his computer, possibly surfing Tumblr, and he feels that need. That little gurgle that hits his stomach. When he knows he needs to release it. So he does. And as he does, he hits that breaking point when he knows he needs to stop. He still has more, but now he’s hit that point where he’ll be in trouble if he continues. He’s reached that danger zone. The point of no return. That point where the boxers he’s wearing will be ruined forever. It happens. There is no charity to help. There is no relief fund. There is no sure. You can only hope that you can catch it in time and avoid the complications. I am not sorry for this post. *pffffft*
So I knew it was going to be only a matter of time before there was a “you have got to be fucking kidding me” moment at the new job. This one was truly one of those that just left me dumbfounded. One of those, “Are you really fucking complaining to me about this? Really?” It was one of those reminders that no matter what you do to benefit the people you work with, someone always has to find something to whine about.
I have been working on a small website for a good several days now. It wasn’t anything major; just a general update that required some design and development changes. Now, I’m not a pixel jockey; I don’t just design the layout and then hand it off like I have no other skills. I do. So as I was designing the look, I was also coding it into the page. Mostly because it’s easy, so why not get it set into a web browser instead of just a image file that is essentially useless in the end? I sent the final layouts over to our partners so they can look it over and do their legal shit and whatever the hell else they do. I had also finished up the design coding as far as I could and had it ready for our developer.
So, I let our developer know that the files are ready to go. After a little back and forth, I made it known that I have done a bunch of the design coding already and that she would only need to touch a few things. Well, how wrong of me it was for doing such a thing. She goes on to inform me that when WE do projects like this, design is done by someone and development is done by someone else. Blah blah blah diffent ways of doing it blah blah blah it’s confusing wah wah wah.
You have to be fucking kidding me right now. I just did your work for the past four days (so you can focus on that overwhelming but not really for normal people workload you were whining about) and you’re whining to me about that? Because it wasn’t a part of your lazy ass protocol that you set up for yourself? How silly of me for think I was actually doing my job by getting things done around here. It would certainly be easier to work at your getting nothing done pace if the company didn’t block everything interesting on the internet.
I suppose I’ll make up the time I spent completing this project to make a shit-list spreadsheet so I can literally knock you down a couple points.