The Unwritten Rules of Working in an Office

1) Despite what the official dress code stipulates, it says here that it is NOT acceptable to wear sweatpants to work.

2) NEVER make a bag of microwave popcorn prior to getting written approval from all colleagues in the immediate vicinity of your cubicle/office.

3) If you kill the joe, you make some mo'!

4) At the end of a department meeting when the boss says "Are there any questions," never, under ANY circumstances ask a question. In fact, anything more than complete and utter silence is punishable by stoning.

5) Do NOT e-mail your friends a link to something that promises to be a cell phone conversation of Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan talking dirty which will require their computer to be turned to full volume but is really an audio file that screams "I love gay porn!" (I had a friend who did this. Once.)

6) Fantasy sports is without exception more important than any memo, e-mail, or phone call.

7) If my ears are bleeding from a phone conversation you are having three doors down, you may be talking a bit too loud.

8) Ladies first? Ha! This is the corporate world, sucka. Equal opportunities, bitch!

9) You can take all the twenty-minute breaks you want...as long as you use them to smoke.
(I don't smoke so this one really chaps my ass)

10) When encountering a person you have nothing in common with but are socially required to speak to, always say "Is it Friday yet?"

I can't take it! It's too much! LOL!

Cruiser just phoned in with this report...

He was behind a car bearing the following bumper sticker:

"How many lives for every gallon?"

The type of car? A Hummer.

LOL!!!!!


Scott speculates that someone probably slapped that sticker on the vehicle without the owner realizing it. That's probably true, although less funny.

"Actually a nice little Saturday..."

There is obviously a lot to be said for getting out and doing things, being active, experiencing the culture, taking advantage of the many recreational options, etc. But sometimes doing absolutely nothing has equal rewards. Last weekend was a weekend to do nothing. Watched a couple movies, 13 episodes of season 2 of "24," some sports, quick trip to the mall, but mostly nothing. It was wonderful. And inexpensive which is nice.

Speaking of "24," aka the best show on television, Kim Bauer is hot, but she has to be the biggest bad luck charm in the history of womankind. Whenever she's around, people die. It's that simple. No thank you.

I am very unhappy with this new scent of deodorant. It smells like cheap, cheesy cologne. Aqua Velva armpits. Not ideal.

I opened a bottle of wine I got at the famed BevMo sale the other night. It was terrible, but I drank it anyway. I think there has been maybe one bottle that was ever so bad as to not be drinkable.

They made Schindler's List, Life is Beautiful about the holocaust. They made Tora, Tora, Tora and Pearl Harbor about Pearl Harbor. So why is United 93 so grotesquely offensive to me? Is it just too soon? Is it because September 11th was the only one of the mentioned disasters that I lived through? Am I alone in my sick feeling about this movie?

We went golfing for Scott's birthday!

A vicious storm and a blanket of fog would have dismayed a less brave group of golfers. This one played through (13 anyway).

The birthday boy lets the big dog eat. Notice how lovely the weather was on Hole 1.

I don't get it...

How did Tom Cruise go from one of the biggest, most-loved movie stars on the planet to one of the most hated and ridiculed? I understand that the scientology stuff is weird, but hasn't he been a scientologist for years now? Did the jumping-on-Oprah's-couch thing really spark this whole thing? Why? If Julia Roberts had jumped on Oprah's couch yelling how much she loved James Van Der Beek, would it have had the same negative affect?

This is what happens when guys ride their bikes to work...

Your friends take the liberty of adding a few upgrades....This is my friend's bike....and he got what he deserved.

Not just streamers, Princess streamers.

No shame in training.

Help Wanted

So my two college roommates are coming out here for 7-10 days in late July from New York. To the best of my knowledge, this will be their first trip to LA/SoCal. I think we're gonna go to Vegas for a couple days, but other than that, I need to think of some LA-ish things that a first-timer would really enjoy. Any suggestions? I'd appreciate any help.

I Friggin' Love Weddings

I do. I do. Okay, you're married. Oh. Shit.

Seriously, are you allowed to get married these days without cute kids in the ceremony? What if you're family doesn't have any? Can you rent?

Like R. Kelly once said, after the party it's the afterparty...

I'm so excited and I just can't hide it. I'm about to lose control and I think I like it.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry.....hhhhhhhuuuhhhhmmmm.....

A rabid rebounder, I snagged the garter from a snarling pack of fellow bachelors.

The reception was in this courtyard. Our rooms can be seen in the background. That proximity would later come in quite handy.

Rugs were cut.

Largo

Went to Largo last night. I just friggin' love that place. I think it might be one of my favorite places on earth. We went to see Glen Phillips for I think the 247th time and it was still as good as the first time. He said last night about Largo, "It's the only place where people will pay to watch you practice." I think that sums up the musical side of it pretty well. It's not just practice though, it's "jamming" too that makes it so uniquely intimate and special. So often there are other artists that aren't on the schedule but show up and play the entire show and it makes for a grand 'ol time. Nine out of every ten Glen shows, Sara and Sean Watkins (two thirds of Nickel Creek) show up to no special fanfare or presumption and just accompany Glen for his entire set. It's the surprises like that. Last night they were there, as well as a young guy named Brett Dennen whom I had heard at Borders and on Itunes. He was fantastic. To me, his voice sounds like a cross between Tracy Chapman and Bob Marley. Every time I'm there, I can't help but think how lucky I am to have this opportunity to see one of my favorite musicians perform literally 4 feet in front of me. I get chills every time. Not to mention how much I love their honey-baked chicken dish. The room is small, the lights are dim, and the staff is familiar. The owner is known simply as Flanagan, a scruffy congenial guy who casually introduces the acts with a thick Irish accent. Strikes me as a guy you might meet at a bar and become drinking buddies with. That would never happen to me because I am nervous around strangers, but to people that that does happen to, I can see it happening with Flanagan. The bartender is Ellen and she takes beautiful photos (website is down as I type this, but I assume it will be back). I don't know the name of the guy that works the door and takes the money, but I love the groundrules he sets with patrons as they wait in line before coming inside. No talking is allowed during the show. Not even during the "opening" act if there is one. Cell phones are firmly requested to be turned off. No vibrating, no texting, no e-mailing, no game-playing, no cell phones at all. Who knew there was such a thing as a totally cell-free zone in this country, let alone in Los Angeles! I hurt my back at the gym Tuesday morning and have been in varying degrees of agony ever since. I'm not being overly dramatic when I say that for 4 hours I sat in a small wooden chair at Largo and my back never felt better. Aside from its apparent healing powers, I think what I have come to love most about Largo is that I think things there that never occur to me otherwise. Not brilliant, interesting, groundbreaking thoughts but just unique thoughts. It's a creative cattle prod I tell ya, jolting to life awareness that is so often lulled to sleep by a mundane daily routine. I'm kind of a cheapskate with a lot of things, but when it comes to something like that, I could not put a price tag on it. Luckily, they do not take advantage of this to the degree that they could. After the show, we met Brett Dennen and chatted briefly while waiting to buy Glen's new EP. This was maybe the one interaction I have ever had with an artist whose music I like that didn't feel completely awkward and leave me feeling like a tool. But then we met Glen. Bought the CD, thanked him for another wonderful show, and then.....not much of anything. "Okay, see ya next time." What do you say in this situation? I can never think of anything. I am literally starstruck. Their music means so much to me and I have seen them so many times, but yet face-to-face we are total strangers. I have never been one of these cool people who can just casually talk to anyone, let alone someone who they admire so much. I wish I could. I always error on the side of conservative because if I dare venture into the realm of sincere admiration, I will undoubtedly come off as a stalker. I know it. Then again, I always feel like an idiot either way so maybe I have nothing to lose. Buying the CD was interesting...I can't think of too many times I have bought a CD directly from the artist himself, handing him my cash, him handing me his music. I liked that. It felt organic if you can use that word regarding a purchase. I started thinking about the whole Itunes thing and how I have been buying a song here or there rather than entire albums like I used to. I think I wanna go back to that. So often I'll buy an album for one or two songs and initially only listen to those one or two...but eventually the others kind of seep in and I usually end up loving those as well. I think I like that so, from now on, almost without exception, I think I will buy albums only. Okay, I think I am done for now. Work must unfortunately be done. Nicole got us Pearl Jam tickets this morning which I am very excited about. I like to "rock out" as much as the next guy (okay, probably less), but at heart, I will always be a Largo kind of guy. Cheers!

Bitches Ain't Shit But Ho's and Tricks

So now we are fairly certain that it was a woman who took my Ipod. Apparently, a leather jacket was stolen from the ladies' locker room that very same morning. There is a list of everyone that was in the gym at the time of the heist. Now that list gets even shorter. Can you hear our footsteps yet, broad? Are you sweating yet, slut? Your fuckin' days are numbered, strumpet. To quote nearly every cop-and-robber type movie, "You gotta go down for this thing."