Battleship Gray

So, the interview at the new place went well (as far as I can tell).
It's a company that makes kitchen equipment (that's probably too specific, but I do it because I love you).
The company is located in an industrial park and is part office, part warehouse. They seem to be doing well, but from the looks of the building you really wouldn't know it.

I waited in the lobby for my appointment and stared at some old posters and catalog covers of years gone by. When my interviewer greets me, he takes me through the field of cubicles.
It's not an inspiring atmosphere. It's like that 1984 apple commercial (watch it here).

I don't know who first thought of this gray cubicle idea, but I'm betting it's the same bastard that thought we should work 5 days a week and have off only 2. You want an idea for a new company? Start selling cubicles that come in more colors than just the standard Battleship Gray. It doesn't need to look like a unicorn farted rainbows in the office, but a little bit of life would improve anyone's morale.

Anyway, I sat in the conference room for more than an hour and discussed the vision of the company, my potential role, and hockey. So, all-in-all, it went well.
I should know by Friday or Monday whether or not I'll have to start coming up with all new aliases for this here blog.

You Can't Bring Me Down

Today is my 80's montage of putting together a portfolio, dusting off the suit and practicing my call-out burst designs to the tune of Bob Seger.
I'm fortunate to have a large collective of friends/associates in the design industry. I'm also fortunate that many of them are extending a helping hand in finding me some work (freelance mostly, but it's all positive in my book).

Sleep was hard to come by last night. Worrying about my interview (tomorrow), trying to line up something else if that interview doesn't work out, but mostly about whether or not I'll receive my last due paycheck from Jackass Inc.

I've gone over the scenario a thousand times in my head and almost never do I just get my check and go on my merry way. Carl is notorious for not paying his bills (and being slimier than anything Andrew Zimmern has ever eaten). I'm hoping that my awareness of his crooked ways, before I even started working there, has helped me build up enough dirt on him. I should be able to get my money by merely suggesting I mention any number of this bafoon's bullshit actions to the proper authorities.
It would be nice if it didn't have to get to that, but I really think it will.
I haven't seen his awful-club-shirt-wearing-cause-that-makes-me-creative, snaggletoothed grin in 24 hours and I still hate him.

Happy Valentine's Day... Now Get Out!

Today at Jackass Inc, Stoner and Carl both came over to my desk in the morning to deliver the bad news.
There hasn't been enough design work coming in and they had to lay me off.
It's all of the emotions in a split second: Fear, Anger, Bitterness, Joy, Acceptance, Resentment, Panic, and a few others I'm sure.
In my mind I kept thinking "Why couldn't you have waited another week or two? By that time I would have gone to my interview on Wednesday and might have possibly accepted a new position".

But now I get to worry if they'll give me my last paycheck (which they owe me this Friday and I fully plan on going in to pick up... just to make sure of it).

I also get to worry if Carl will fight the unemployment (as he's been known to do).

I laughed as Carl kept saying things like he would give me a referral or that if I brought him a print job he'd give me an 8% commission on the job. Knowing that he had made similar offers to people I've worked with only to never pay them a cent, I had to smirk.

Through the painful morning Stoner seemed to actually show remorse. He told me that I was the best thing that happened to his design group, that I was the best designer he's had in there and that we worked well together. Apparently, he had been taking smaller paychecks to make sure that I was paid. Who knows how much of it was true, but he seemed genuine. I don't hate Stoner. He's just a dumb guy.

I do hate Carl & Connie though. Those two are a rare kind of retarded evil. Ones with horned safety helmets and winged-seeing-eye-monkeys. Those two are due to get their butts reamed by the hounds of Karma.

So, I guess most of this blog's entertainment will be different from here on out.
But don't worry. I have a knack for finding horrible design jobs with horrible people.

Half Day Friday

Normally, a proposed half day Friday would sound glorious to me, but now that I'm hourly it means Carl and Stoner are shorting me on my 40 hours. So, it took them exactly one month for the hourly thing to cost me money.

I hate them.

Those cheap bastards.

I don't know about you, but I need 100% of my weekly salary. It's not like they pay me so well here that I have all this room to spare with paying the bills and living a life. 

I don't have much funny to offer today...and I have to leave the office in a few minutes. Sorry about that.

Have a good weekend and be thankful you don't work here.

Toy Fair Crunch

Every February the Toy Fair is held in New York City. It's usually held at the Javits Center (a really big friggin convention center). The event is for toy makers off all sizes, to present their new toys for the upcoming season. Mattel, Hasbro, Lego, and just about every toy company you can think of has a booth there. Be on the lookout early next week for all of the reports from the convention featuring hot new items that reporters like (and rarely predict which ones will be successful). David Lettermen usually has someone on to showcase a bunch of items, that Dave does his best to damage in many colorful ways.

Every year the week before Toy Fair is busy for those of us in the package design business. It's usually a good thing for the cash flow and a bad thing for those of us who enjoy sleep. It never fails that companies have last minute changes to packages and they must be made only days before the show. C'mon, they only had a year to get this stuff figured out!

So, last night after I left work, I get a call from Stoner saying we have an emergency for the morning... a package redesign. No problem. I'm used to it. I come in early to tackle it.

The part that sucks is that I have a couple of hours to redo this package, that the client apparently had their color-blind cat create, and then I get Connie and Carl coming in every 30 minutes to check on my progress.

Quick Tip: If you'd like to anger me in the quickest way possible, watch over my shoulder as I work and ask me what I'm doing and when it'll be done.

I spent the morning making a presentable version of this package. The original had rainbow type, white type with a white glow, random branding shapes, and lots of misspellings.

Mini Lesson: Rainbows are bad! Rainbow type is really bad! Let me explain why. The designer's job is to control the eye so that the consumer can easily understand what the product is and who it's for. Any text should be easy to read and should follow a hierarchy of most important message to secondary and tertiary messages.

A rainbow contains all of the colors, therefore making it nigh impossible to control the consumer's eye... and it's gay.

So, after I finished with the redesign, submitted it and took 5 seconds to breathe we heard back from the client. They said they liked what we did and would have their designer incorporate elements of our design into theirs.

I hope that before they continue the client at least keeps their designer away from the catnip. That stuff is powerful.

Time Check

Since our recent conversion from a salary based pay system to the hourly based pay, Stoner has had me either clock him in or out almost everyday. That's because I'm always here before him and usually here later than him... and he'd still like to get his full paycheck every week.

I'm ok with it. I figure sometime in the future, if I need him to return the favor he'd have to agree to it. Although I admit it's wrong and I feel a little dirty for doing it. It's kinda like siding with Boba Fett and the other bounty hunters to squeeze a little more cash out of the Emperor. The lesser of two evils.

Not sure if I've ever explained the convoluted hierarchy here, but I'll try.

Stoner used to be a designer for Carl here years ago. Then Carl decided that he wanted to sell the design as separate service. He also didn't want to have a conflict of interest with some clients (design agencies) so, Carl created the design part as a separate entity...but not really.

The design part does have a different logo & letterhead, with Stoner in place as the "owner", but Carl's company does all of the paperwork (aside from a few invoices/proposals that Stoner usually has me do). Stoner gets his paychecks from Carl. There is no way Stoner would have his own company if it completely depended on him doing all of that work.

And so, with the new hourly system in place Stoner now bills Carl for the hours he's not here by having me clock him in and out.

It's a greasy game of naked Twister with your cousins here. It's all kinds of wrong and someone's always getting screwed.

More Daily Chores

When I come into work here, I have a swipe card to get into the door. I have to swipe to leave also or else the security system won't let me back in. My theory is that the system has two purposes. One, to keep people who don't work here out and two, to track the time of the people that do work here.

I then have to clock into a timesheet program with an ID number. In that program I must log into a job or else I'm not really at work (according to payroll). I also have to fill-out my name (even though everyone has their own ID number that they must use to log in to begin with) and the kind of work I am doing ie: Polishing 10lbs of shite and then stuffing it into a 5lb rainbow adorned box.

Next I do the design work and print it out for review by Stoner, Connie or Carl...or if I'm lucky all three! Once revisions are made, I send them JPEGs of the work to pass along to the client (because I can't be trusted with client contacts. Part of Carl's paranoia).  I have had my own clients at other jobs. Clients bigger than any of the ones they deal with here. And maybe to Carl's point, I do some freelance on my own for some of my previous clients.

After the many rounds of revisions, I am to print out copies of the work I've done. These are suppose to go into a job folder and then used for billing. I usually end up printing out the same things again, because someone misplaced the first print outs or the entire job folder.

Now, I understand that to make money you must track your work and for design you should track every round of revisions, but doesn't there seem to be more than one redundancy in this process? I've never had to do so much to justify the work I've done. The closest I've come to it was when I worked for one of the two big toy companies. But that was due to me being an independent contractor more than anything else.

Please share your time tracking duties. Be they small or be they mighty? Let me know if I'm just whining.

Herb, Clean up in Aisle Four!

One of a million things that bugs me about how they do their day-to-day business here at Jackass Inc., is the phone system. You know how in most environments if you dial a coworker's extension, it'll ring their phone and your extension and name (or something close to it) will come up? Well, here it just goes to speaker phone. So if someone wants to call and talk to me I get a beep and then them talking. No call ID and most times not enough time for me to get my headphones off before they start their conversation. Also, there are no real walls here so if someone is talking to Stoner I hear the whole conversation. The whole process just seems rude to me. Perhaps I'm just old fashion that way.

On a similar note, we have a warehouse here and people may not be at their desk. So, often times people are paged over the loudspeaker. Nothing out of the ordinary really. It's just that when Connie does it she sounds as if you should be at your desk and if you don't answer the first page within 10 seconds you get another page of disgust. Seriously, when Connie was a child someone pissed in her Cheerios and she's never gotten over it.

My favorite is when Carl pages someone. He stumbles through it every time. Like half way through he forgets his extension and then when he repeats his page (it is unwritten law that you must always repeat a page), he stumbles again.

Last little nugget for the day.

Rumor has it that Connie is leaving. I don't know where or when or any other details, but it's a little scary to me. I dislike her strongly, but once in a while she'll defend my comments in a meeting, because she has a bit of an education... she's still a grand bitch, but she knows the English language better than these jelly-brained baboons.

Define the word "the"

Off and on for the last month or so, I've been designing an in-store display that will be used to sell gift cards. Once again, I'll try to describe things without giving away too many specifics. The system is suppose to work like this: You see the display in-store, the display has a number of cards on it each relating to a different item, you pick one, take it to the cashier, pay for the card, when you get home you go online to fill out your info and in about a week you get your customized item.

It's not a complicated system really. Especially, if you've ever bought a gift card and used it (as I'm sure most of you have). My problems surfaced yesterday when Carl returned from his vacation and had gone a whole week without getting his troll thumbprints on any artwork. Carl is like that cat you have that even after you give him his own space, have him neutered, and separate him from other animals he still pisses on everything.

So, the client wanted us to come up with a header for this display that had a 1-2-3 step process clearly and simply defined. While Carl was away I wrote the copy. I came up with some rough wording with the understanding that the client may want to change it up a bit...but it should get me in the ball park.

Then Carl comes into my office at the end of the day and has me pull up the file on my monitor so that he can work with it through me (and I just love being Bonzo's puppet!).

What I had was:

1. Select the Card with the "Item" you like.

2. Purchase card in-store to activate.

3. Go online to fill out your info and redeem your card.

Carl, tried to re-word all of it one line at a time. He would say the same thing I had but add another sentence or two. After 20 minutes, I got him to leave the first 2 steps alone. By that time, I just wanted to go home.

For the third step he says, "What does redeem mean?"

I say, "You know, after you buy a gift card, you redeem it online...use it to buy something."

Carl, "Yeah, but do people know what the word redeem means?"

Me, "I think most people have used a gift card and they ALL say 'Redeem" it on the card somewhere."

Carl, "Yeah, I don't know".

A few minutes of this circular conversation, where I'm sure I suffered some kind of head trauma, and I just let him re-write step 3.

It now reads:

3. Go online to enter your custom "item" information. Redeem your card and your "item" will be delivered to your home in 7-10 days.

I suggested that we add "Sit down at your computer" at the beginning of step 3, but the idea was shot down.

Pass it on.

Just made it.

Sorry. Not much for funny stories today. Once in a while this place gets busy and I don't get much of a break. The good news is I had to secret phone calls today (3 if you count a call to a company I already do freelance for...shhhh). The other 2 were for potential positions at companies that aren't this tornado of twits called Jackass Inc. One of my secret phone calls was in my car parked a good 15 minutes away from this building. The other was unscheduled and I decided to make that in the bathroom...It's just a single stall. So, no chance of an awkward-overheard-conversation-after-the-flush scene
I'm excited by the possibility of having healthcare again. I can't wait to go to the dentist! Sad huh?
I'm excited by the possibility of having a 401k in place.
I'm excited by the possibility of having never to see Carl and Connie's troll faces (which are tanned right now as they just got back from their vacation).

I imagine if such possibilities come to fruition this blog will be a little different.
Don't worry. I've got an idea or two.

ahhhh... tomorrow is Friday.
I'm sure I'll have something to be angry about by then.
Later.

I'm Surrounded by A$$h@les!

When I started here at Jackass Inc., I was given a used work area and a used machine. Which is what I've had at most jobs. It's pretty rare (at least in my experience) to walk into a place that has purchased new equipment just for you. 

So, as I worked I found preferences set in the software that I end up changing to my liking. Again, no biggie. A few days into it, the software update jumps up and tells me I have updates I can install. It didn't look like anything important so I let it go.

A week or so later it popped up again and this time it was security updates and some other things that looked important. I clicked "OK" and only made it to the prompt of user password. I looked around the desk (which still had plenty of papers strewn about it from the last sucker) looking for a post-it or something that looked like it would have the password written down. To no avail. Nothing I found worked.

Another day or so went by and I decided to try a couple of random passwords. Things like the company name, owner's name, department names, previous employee names... nothing worked. Now, by this time, I had been here long enough to know that most everyone here was an idiot. I then thought of the movie Spaceballs and the scene regarding the security code. You know where the code ends up being 1-2-3-4-5? Then Rick Moranis says, "1-2-3-4-5? That's the stupidest combination I ever heard in my life! That's the kind of thing an idiot would have on his luggage!". I tried the security code of 1-2-3-4-5 on my machine, laughing to myself as I did...and it worked.

I thought it was funny so I told "Matt" about it. To which Matt replied, "yeah, that's the code for all the machines here. Genius right?"

Genius indeed!

A Gun!?

Let me apologize now, this post will probably be less filled with funny and more filled with rage.

The f@#king mongoloid Carl Jr., walked into our design office today with a gun. A honest to goodness hand gun. Apparently, he bought this replica of some early 1900's revolver and wanted to show it to everyone. Carl Jr. shows Stoner and they talk about taking it out back to fire it or maybe the gun range. In the process he and Stoner are taking turns spinning the chamber and practicing their stance like their in some damn western. Stoner even cocks the hammer and asks, "It's not loaded right?" and then dry fires it in my general direction. Not that it would have hit me but it would have hit the wall behind me.

Carl Jr. tells Stoner not to dry fire the weapon because it could damage the weapon.

Then, they both notice that I'm not laughing along and acting like a couple of monkeys with a grapefruit. Carl Jr. says, "I think Designer X is scared".

To which I replied, "Yeah, well, I don't like guns and it's like a bad after school special in here".

Carl Jr. tries to relieve my fears by telling me, "Well, it's not loaded".

My response is, "Yeah, that's exactly what they say in all those specials".

He then tries to tell me why this gun is safe compared to modern day weapons. Which I neither know is true or care. The fact that this retarded gorilla somehow passed any kind of test to own a gun gives me no faith in his knowledge of weapons or the validity of said test. I believe that if you are responsible enough, smart enough, and pass some REAL tests you should be allowed to own a gun.

But the fact that Carl Jr. owns such a weapon tells me that the gun laws in place are not good enough. This half-wit would lose a spelling bee to a fern.

Carl Jr. then comes over to me with the gun and tries to show me how it works.

I tell him, "Look, I don't want to touch it. I don't want it near me. I don't want it in the same f@#king room as me."

Carl Jr. then seems hurt and apologizes for offending me. I tell him that the office in no place for such things. He tries to pass the blame onto Stoner for pulling the trigger. I don't respond. He apologizes again. I don't respond. He finally leaves the room with his new "toy".

un-F#@king-believable.
Please tell your friends about this blog.
Help me get enough traffic to this site so that I might be able to leave this horrid job.

Back to Normal?

Two short stories today.

Number one. Stoner returned to the office today after a few days of being "sick". Maybe he really was sick, he came in and looked a little thinner, but I notice he only coughs when someone asks him how he's doing. Carl Jr. came in and said to Stoner, "You look like you lost some weight."
Stoner replied with, "Yeah I didn't eat really for a few days. I just looked in the mirror and watched myself 'willow' away."
I'm guessing he didn't mean that he was shrinking down to 2 and half feet to fight alongside Val Kilmer.

Story number 2. I went to the back of the warehouse to talk to a guy (we'll call him Matt) that does a lot of our package construction and all kinds of mysterious cutting, machine operating & useful things. Now, I know I complained about a cold office, but the warehouse where Matt works all day was 42º. The boss's solution to this side of the building was to bring in one of those Kerosene heaters that looks like a mini jet turbine. The problem is that, A) it doesn't really warm up anything (it's just a little one) and B) you get noxious fumes filling the warehouse. Matt told me it was bad enough the first day that one of the Mexicans (not sure if they're legal or not, but they're good dudes) went home sick and threw up all night. The next day the same dude wore a mask to work (like the kind you're suppose to wear when painting indoors or traveling through bird flu countries).

ahhhh...good times.

The Fix is In

Today Carl Jr. and "Don Johnson" are at a trade show. I designed a bunch of stuff for them to debut the new company like a new logo, business cards, booth banners, etc. I also designed a raffle box for them to have at their booth. You know, the kind where people are suppose to drop their business cards in and hope for a chance to win something. This box was to promote Carl Jr's new company, so the lucky winner would win a free product/service which he now provides. I don't want to get into specific (due to the whole anonymous thing), but let's just call his product a "Wicket". It's kind of like a Widget, but it's furry and has a tiny spear.

Now, if you didn't know, the real reason that companies put out these boxes is not so much to advertise their company/product (which they do in fact achieve to some level), but more so to build a list of contacts who they can later bug with sales calls and the like. If you've ever dropped your business card into one of these boxes in the hopes to win some sweet car or free lunch or free lunch in a sweet car, then you've probably gotten a coupon/email/phone call shortly there after not telling you that you've won, but offering you a chance to give that company some money. Honestly, I don't know of anyone really winning anything this way. I'm not saying all companies that do the raffle box thing are shady, but I am saying that most probably are. Let's not include those vacation/time share people, because they are their own kind of evil that receives special favors from Satan himself.

Last week, there was a spontaneous meeting here. The kind where people just gather around my desk, look over my shoulder, talk about the project and generally annoy me. The discussion of contest rules and how they were going to select the winner came up. Carl, Carl Jr., and Don Johson were all involved. I was here, but I just wanted them to tell me what copy they needed on this box. Don Johnson starts off by saying the right things like, drawing will be held on this date, winner will be chosen randomly, you win one free "Wicket" equal to this amount of money, blah blah blah.

Then Carl says, "Yeah, we'll pick the card of the guy who works for the biggest company. That way we can try to get more work out of him. We're not pickin some Joe Schmoe's card and giving him a free Wicket" followed by a weaselly laugh that makes my neck cringe.

Carl Jr. and Don Johnson laugh in agreement.

The moral of this story is: These people are not to be trusted...

And maybe I should design a business card where I make myself the president of IBM or something... then I might win all kinds of free stuff!

That's one to grow on.

Snow Day

I just got in from shoveling my car out of a foot of snow. The fun part is always the dirty ice/snow that builds up behind the car after the plows come by. My heart nearly burst from all that exercise. I'm thinking there could be a good workout video from this involving snow, shovels and girls in bikinis... something for everyone.

This will be a quick one, because I'm not at work and my hands are trembling like I just saw the ghosts of Elvis and Michael Jackson grinding on each other.

This morning my girlfriend woke up and checked with her office to find that they were operating on a 2 hour delay. She looked outside, laid back down and said "I'm taking a Personal Day. I'm not risking my life in this shit".

To which I responded "Me too".

One cool thing about my boss being unprofessional (and in general pretty lazy) is that this morning to call out of work I texted him, "I'm not gonna make it into the office today. It sucks outside." He didn't respond, but I know that this was good enough for him. He was probably still sleeping anyway.

I Feel Real Bad (cough! cough!...sniff)

Remember the last time you called out of work with that slightly faked "I feel bad" voice? How about when you even went so far as to set it up the day before? "Oh, man my neck is killing me and my head hurts. I need a break."

Well, my boss (Stoner) pulled this one out today.

It might have added to his "sickness" that our area woke up to a few inches of snow this morning. Also, his decision was probably encouraged by the fact that Carl and Connie are still out of the office bumping the ugliest of uglies under a palm tree somewhere. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for an unplanned day off from work (especially from this crooked cellblock of cretins). I just find it amusing that Stoner, my boss, calls me and gives his best Anne Ramsey impersonation (see Goonies or Throw Mama From the Train).

"Yo man, I feel like shit. I woke up this morning and my bed was soaked. I just sweated so much. Through my clothes and sheets and everything."

"Oh, that sucks."

"Yeah, man I can't even get my head off the pillow. I'm not gonna make it in today. You in the office yet?"

"No, almost there though. About 5 minutes away."

"Cool, clock me in when you get there?"

"No problem. See you tomorrow."

Funny huh? Like I'm the dad here...or just the sucker.

I too would like to take a day off. Mostly so that I wouldn't have to deal with the snow laden commute. You know, where jackasses with SUVs fly through lanes like their tires are filled with awesome the-slippery-laws-of-ice-don't-apply-to-me juice AND I have to avoid the petrified jerks that are afraid that if their speedometer cracks 10 the snow will crush their bird-like frames.

But alas, I cannot do so unless I want to forego a day's pay.

Some days it's almost worth it.

Office Staycation

Connie and Carl are off on vacation for the next week...which means I'm on a mini Staycation, if you will. I get a few days of not hearing Carl say something an 8th grader would know better than to and a few days of Connie not talking down to everyone as if they were 8th graders.

I was almost excited about work today (a better term is probably "less angry", but I'll go with it.) There's less tension in the frigid air as I walk into my office. I sit down check my email and then read an email from Connie. It's a to-do list for everyone here while her and Carl are off sucking back drinks with little umbrellas. It seems to be pretty standard stuff. I get to my name and there is a project that was given to me last Thursday afternoon. Not a big deal, but I've been busy getting everything done for Carl Jr's new company debut. So, I'm not surprised to see the project on my list just surprised that Connie noted that it "needed to be designed and printed by Noon today, because he's had it for days!".

I don't know about your keyboard and computer, but mine doesn't have a "design" button that I just push and then WHAM-O! a finished piece appears like some State Farm commercial. And it's not like anyone bothered to tell me when the client would be by to pick up said project, because that would take one fiber of giving-a-shit about someone else. These people are awful, twisted trolls on the inside.

Is it too much for me to hope that Carl and Connie contract a virus on their vacation that makes all of their frilly drinks run through them like the great Mississippi River?

At least Stoner only shows up in the office for an hour or two a day while those two are away. Gives me some quality resume/job hunting time.

Working in an Ice Box

My office is cold. I'm not talking about, "there's a fat lady that sits by the thermostat" cold. I mean my office doesn't have a thermostat.

Our company moved to a new building in June. The design office was to be built in the warehouse section of the building. I guess to give us our own space and so the design department could be treated like a separate entity. So, from June to September me and Stoner worked in the front offices (where they have a thermostat and a heating/cooling unit). When our offices were finished ( in the Fall) we moved into our space.

Somehow in the planning and building phase of this new office, they never planned on any kind AC/Heating ducts... nothing. As Fall turned to Winter, of course our office got colder. The fancy offices where Carl, Carl Jr., Spring, Connie and Don Johnson work are all cozy. So what do they care if we're uncomfortable?

About a month ago we had a job that needed to be printed on a tight deadline. The large format printers are in the warehouse section of the building (like our design office). Well, when it was time for the job to run on the printer it got messed up bad. It seems the inks in the large format printer (that costs ten thousand dollars at least) were frozen. Literally frozen. When the tech came into look at it he said, "You know, it's way too cold in here for this machine".

Then Carl gets some heating guys to come in. I get all giddy like a boy on Christmas (which was just about the timing of it all). But my joy was not long lived as the local township inspector stopped by. The inspector informed Carl that he didn't have permits for this, he handed Carl a $2000 fine and stopped all work until the proper permits were received (which of course, would have to go through the angered inspector).

I do have a little space heater at my desk which keeps my man parts from shattering into tiny icicles and by lunch time I can take my coat, hat and gloves off.

Today when I got into my car and it said 9º (That's a friggin' single digit!). When I got into the office I thought I'd snap a pic (below) of the tiny keychain thermometer I keep at my desk. If you can't tell, that's right around 45 degrees.

One last bit. It makes it worse when Carl takes our little space heater in the mornings to keep his loafers toasty in his UNbearable 68 degree office. Today he comes in and says, "Oh, did you need the heater?".

I just laughed a couple of breathes of frozen air and said, "yeah, that'd be nice."

Foot note: OSHA recommends temperature control in the range of 68-76° F , but there are no regulations.

A Quickie!

Sorry, it's Friday and I'm busy. I know you'd probably like to waste more time at your job by reading this. I'll do better in the future, I promise. Anyway, on to it!

I designed a brochure for Carl Jr (but really Carl makes all of the decisions, since he pays for everything). This is the brochure that they wanted me to steal competitors work to place in it. Then they wanted me to look on istock to get some work. I tried to explain that istock (and sites like that) aren't meant to provide you with designs and that they wouldn't even have anything that they could use. Didn't matter. They made me look and only believed me when I showed them the search results. So, I designed a brochure with the given text and left room for pictures of their work that they would try to dig up. The photo areas of the brochure were clearly noted as placement for photos of work (just blank boxes since I had no photos).

I showed them what I had so far and Carl said, "It looks boring."

I said, "Yeah, those blank areas will be filled with the photos I'm waiting on."

Carl stares blankly for a minute or two and then tells Stoner to work on the brochure.

Also, Carl's idea for the website of Carl Jr's business is to have an "Under Construction" page until the designs are finished. I say, "ok, I'll just throw the logo on there and something like Coming Soon!".

He says, "Why don't you put 'Award winning website coming soon'?"

I say, "But won't people think, 'how is it an award winning site if it isn't up yet'?"

Carl says, "They'll just think we're really confident in our design".

Yeah, that's probably what they'll think.

Settle Down Class...Time to Learn You Something.

Today's rant isn't about a specific instance, but a behavior that I have found throughout my career. Carl here is guilty of it on almost a daily basis. The behavior is that of someone that wants to express an opinion, based on little more than wanting to be perceived as "creative". Let me explain.

In any given design meeting, prints of the work will be laid out in front of the group. A designer should present the options giving reason for the choices made in each of those designs. The reasons will be based on years of study in design. research of a specific market, client, competitors, consumers and buying psychology. If you're any good, you will have displayed a range of design options varying from something safe and familiar to the client to something that is new and further outside their normal practices (not ridiculously out there, but something a little different).

In these meetings everyone wants to feel like they're involved...even if they shouldn't be. I've had design meetings where the HR person sat in, someone's kid, a receptionist, etc. In my current situation, it's Carl. Inevitably, they will look at something you have designed before them, and them wanting to be creative, just say the opposite of what they see. Like, "Instead of a white background, what if it was red?". Then many of the others in the room will start nodding their head in agreement like lemmings jumping off a cliff. This one statement unravels all of the work, study, research, decisions and effort a designer has done. Below is an example (a made up one to protect me and the innocent) of why this is a horrible experience.

Why don't we make the background red? Why don't I make YOUR background red? Not only did you just make it Christmas in here, but the color combination MAKES YOUR EYES SHAKE LIKE A STRUNG-OUT HOBO COOKING HIS FIRST ROCK IN A WEEK!!!

I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell. But it would be as if you hired a plumber to come in and install a bathroom. Then when he tells you what you should do, you say,"Can we have the pipes outside the walls? Oh, and don't bother with any kind of insulation...I hate the way it looks."

The word design is defined here. It is defined by words like purpose, thought and planned. It's not magic that strikes a random chosen one of the flock. Sorry, it's not talent gifted by some otherworldly being. It has purpose. It's not a middle-aged woman that makes kooky sweaters. People who design weren't special before they were born, and because you want to feel special you can't just whip up some "creativity" by saying something no one else has said. When you say things in a design meeting based on nothing it doesn't make you creative. It makes you an asshole.

Not a Good Tagline.

Two weeks ago I was in a meeting here with Carl, Carl Jr., Stoner and the sales guy, "Don Johnson". No, that's not his name. He doesn't even resemble the "Heartbeat" singer from the 80's. I just thought it was a good fit for a sales guy. But I digress.

So, the meeting was about coming up with sales material to arm Don Johnson with when he goes after new clients. We all agreed that a brochure would be needed. Then came the discussion of what should be in the brochure and who should write it. Thankfully, Don said he had a freelance writer that he has used in the past and would be great for this project. I was relieved, because that meant I wouldn't have to grind my teeth into dust by reading anything that the bosses here might have scribbled down in crayon for this brochure.

With that decided Carl asks,"Designer X, now... should you design something first and then give it to the writer so that they know how much room they have to work with?"

To which I replied,"Uh no. Typically a brochure would be designed based upon what your messages would be. Since we don't have that yet I might be wasting time designing in the dark." With the group convinced of the next steps, we start talking about the messages we would like the writer to write about.

A lot of it was standard stuff. What do we do? Who's it for? Why we're better than the others? Etc.

The golden nugget that shined through in this meeting was when Carl started talking about print quality. (I'm not saying what the company does, but one of the many things it does is some printing). Carl, goes on to explain that there can be differences in color depending on material, what's on screen, we can match any color, blah blah blah. Carl then goes into this phase of his process where he just starts spouting taglines without any real thought into what he's saying. It's usually some rip-off of someone else's campaign, but this one was all his own. Carl makes the gesture for headline with his hand and says, "How about something like... 'Not all blacks are created equal'?".

I dropped my head in shear disbelief and said, "You can't say that!!".

Carl's blank expression showed me that his little hamster had fallen off the wheel. 10 seconds later, when the hamster climbed back on, Carl said,"Why not?". 5 seconds later, the hamster was moving again and Carl just laughed.

After a few minutes of Carl and Carl Jr. exchanging some horrible racial comments the meeting ended.

I walked back to my freezing cubicle and tried to think of what awful acts of evil I must have done for karma to have put me in such a meeting.

I hope you never work here.

Why would you want a paycheck?

First to resolve yesterday's Bed Room post. Stoner posted an ad for his girlfriend yesterday to rent out her place...so, I believe what he meant to say was, "How would you abbreviate bedroom?". This is just a theory, but it's the only thing my mind could work out...and it had to work something out or it may have melted away.

The new debate/issue-soon-to-make-my-life-harder in the office is that I should now be paid hourly. I started here over a year ago as full-time freelance (not quite legal, but I was ok with it). I was ok with it until my paychecks were delayed. At first it was a week, next time it was two weeks and finally it was three weeks before I said to Carl... "I need to pay my rent. I work here. You are suppose to give me a paycheck for destroying my soul everyday".

They then decided to put me on the books as a salaried employee (like we agreed would happen after a month trial as a freelancer) ...6 months after I started working for them.

Now, I assume they would want to make me hourly so they could not pay me a full weeks salary if I were to work less than the 40 hours standard. There is no chance they'll be paying me overtime. By the way, I never work less than 40 (usually about 43) and when Toy Fair or some other convention hits, I'll be close to 50-60 hours a week.

By making me hourly, I get to print out my time sheet everyday and then hope that this brain trust does the right math every week to pay me my paycheck fully and on time. I'm not holding my breath on this one.

You want a few more characters of this Hell Office? Okay let the nepotism continue!

Connie: She is Carl's girlfriend and the office manager. I chose the name Connie, because I don't know anyone named Connie and I'm about to insult her on a daily basis, so I wouldn't want friends or family confused. The name Connie is also pretty close to the "C" word. She answers the phone with, "Can I help you?", but to get the appropriate tone you really have to read that with the inflection as if someone just took a dump in your coffee. She's only pleasant about 2% of her day.

Spring: She is Carl Jr.'s girlfriend and she does office stuff...kinda. I chose the name Spring for her because it seems like a girl's name that works at a gentlemen's club. Which to my knowledge, our Spring has never done...but she was a shot girl at a night club. Spring is nice, but you feel sorry for her like you would for a bird that flies into a window. You know, like nature should have fixed something in them. Today she asked me how to spell "Cyan".

That's all for now. Hope you never work here!

Bed...Room?

Stoner just asked me how to "pronounciate" bedroom. I asked him, "what do you mean?". To which he said, "Never mind man, you don't get it."

Agreed.

I don't.

The Beginning... kinda

There's too much back story for me too start at the beginning. There's even too much for me to tell you how I started here at this job. Let's just say, I work for morons (like most people I'm sure). My job feels like the movie Idiocracy , the Mike Judge one where Luke Wilson travels to the future and everyone is a energy-drink-drinkinging retard that thinks Luke is the dumb one. That's me. Designer X, trying to explain things to my bosses like, "it's not a good idea to steal competitors' work, show it as your own and then attend a convention where your booth with sit amongst said competitors". I get the dazed looks of a chimp eyeing a plastic banana... unsure whether to peel it or hump it.

I'll give a quick who's who of this Bizzaro World, using aliases of course, because I have wronged some ancient gods and must continue to work here... for now.

"Carl": The big cheese. He is a stumpy, goat-teed man that would sell his mother faulty dentures made of the cheapest plastics a little Chinese kid can make. A cheap, snake-oil salesmen from the turn of the century.

"Carl Jr.": I'd considered the name baby Huey, but thought it might confuse things and otherwise disgrace the cartoon character. Carl Jr. is the son of Carl, who has a separate, yet related business to his father's. One which his father fully funds and created... entirely. I'm not sure Carl Jr. could make himself toast if left to his own devices.

"Stoner": He's my direct boss. He's what would happen if Pauly Shore and Pauly D (from the Jersey Shore) spawned an unmotivated man-child. Not a bad guy all-in-all, but says things like. "that project is still in Lingo" or "Snow Leopards don't exist". These statements and the inability to get into the office any less than an hour after me, are probably due to the enormous amounts of weed he smokes.

That's all I'll share for the day. I'll try to update this blog daily (about lunch time) as there are never ending moments here that I must both escape from and report to the universe. Hopefully, it'll help you laugh at my life and forget about your own Bad Career Decisions.

Testing

lorem ipsum and some other latin stuff.