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Rumor Pool (BETA) is where you post your own dirt. 

Jason's Micro Blog. Mostly quick User updates throughout the day when I don't have a regular post...

 

Tech Babe
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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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Tuesday
26Jan2010

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?"

"TBD." 

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...

Monday
18Jan2010

Res-Erection

On my first day back in the office alive again I wanted my entrance to be unspectacular. I wanted to walk in as if I had never been dead

I arrived a little early and caught the elevator alone. But before the doors could close, a hand popped through and opened them back up again. 

Plotkin from Accounting walked in, kept his eyes low as he always does and took his place on the other side of the elevator. Once the doors closed, I asked him how his long weekend was. He started to answer, but recognized my voice, looked up and then pressed his back hard up against the side of the elevator. 

We just stared at each other for a moment. Then finally: 

"You're dead," Plotkin said.

"Oh," I said. "I thought everyone was just ignoring me. Dead though, that makes sense. Well... Finally, someone who can see me."

Plotkin turned away and said: "I can't see you."

"Well, at least you can hear me."

I can't hear you either. 

Don't be afraid," I said. "It's a gift."

We arrived at his floor and he bolted off the elevator and galloped down the hallway. I love fucking with Plotkin.

Walking toward my office, I ran into Lucia, who was still wearing black, the good Catholic that she is. She had just placed flowers, a statuette of the Virgin Mary, and a pair of black panties in front of my office door. 

She stopped, stunned when she saw me.

"You're dead," she said.

"I keep hearing that," I said. 

She was convinced she was seeing a spirit. 

"See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself;" I said. "Handle me, and see; for a spirit has not flesh and bones as you see that I have."

She didn't recognize the Bible reference; she giggled.

"You said, handle me," she snorted. "It is you... Who else says that shit?"

Apparently just me and Jesus.

She gave me a big hug and told me she was relieved I wasn't dead, praised Jesus that I was okay and said that we had some sodomy to make up for.

I was really enjoying this and thinking I should die more often. I started estimating how many erections I'd have this first week back from all the wild dead/alive sex--and the number was staggering. It was going to be a great week. Well, it was going to be great until I arrived at my office.

I walked past my assistant Teri with no intention of stopping and explaining why I was not dead. She spit her coffee out and and came running after me. She's very resilient and immediately got over the dead/alive thing without needing an explanation and was on to the next dilemma. 

"I'm glad you're not dead," she blurted out. "But there's something you should know..."

I ignored her pleas to stop and discuss, and headed into my office. 

I was surprised to find man sitting at my desk. He looked familiar, although I'm sure I've never seen him before. It's just that he looked, well... Like me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He looked up and smiled. "I'm Jason."

Uh... Huh? 

"I know, it's weird," he continued. "I was hired to replace another Jason who apparently died. You probably knew him."

Replaced? I'd only been dead for a week and they already replaced me? With another Jason?

"Excuse me," I said, irritated. "I'm Jason. This is my office."

He looked at me confused. "You're Jason?" he asked. "But... You're dead."

See how easily the fun can be stripped out of something so entertaining as death? I can't say I wasn't warned. My plans always seem so rock solid. That is, until they go completely awry.

"Wow..." He said. "What are they going to do with two Jasons?"

Not shit. 

Monday
11Jan2010

Speaking from the Grave

There are definitely advantages and disadvantages to being dead. 

Pros

  1. You do less. People expect much less of you at work when you're no longer alive. Assignments go to other people, emails and calls go to other people, and you don't have to attend meetings that accomplish nothing.
  2. You're praised more. With mournful respect, people give you undue praise for things other people accomplished. You get credit for more.
  3. Juggling women is much less stressful. Time management is a breeze.
  4. Nobody talks to you. They all have to go through God first. Someone wants to get a message to you, they have to pray. And the beauty of this is, God is not very good at taking messages so you never have to answer back.

Cons 

  1. You don't get laid. It's very difficult to fuck a dead person. Not that I've ever tried, but flirting and seduction doesn't get you anywhere. And praying to God usually doesn't get you laid, especially if you're trying to fuck someone 6 feet under.
  2. No sympathy sex because you're dead. Because, well, you're dead. So at least not for you. The women you used to fuck are probably getting sympathy sex all over the place for their "loss". 
  3. You can't be sarcastic in meetings. Mainly because you're no longer invited to the meetings. Which is a pro. But it also means you can't be an ass and ruin someone's day. So sad.
  4. You can't expense lunches. Finance will never approve an expense report from a dead guy.

My Users have sent numerous emails to Smithee trying to get more information.

Lucia is saddened that she'll won't be sodomized by me anymore. She'll probably get more religious.

Kelsey won't get laid but will still be accused of fucking around by her fiancé because I died, not Kornfeld.

Fiona the Cunt probably wishes she still hated me so that she could celebrate, but instead she has to mourn the guy who might be responsible for her slutty sister's death.

Maricruz still thinks she's insane, so I don't think she's noticed.

Blair doesn't believe I'm dead. Mainly because she's suspicious of everything connected to me. I don't think she'll believe it unless she sees my cold dead body on a slab at the morgue. She's tried asking Kessler and Gladstone, but they just respond with: I can't talk about it yet...

Other Users are deeply saddened. They were expecting orgasms this week.

Mulhausen is apparently just giddy with glee. He can't even pretend to be sad that I'm dead.

Fernandez is probably just as giddy, but this is his opportunity to look like a saint by praising me and by making politically correct statements like: He wasn't only a great employee, but a dear friend...

Well, the company is a-buzz with excitement and the new year has come alive. I accomplished my goal. Another day or two and I'll rise like Christ and everyone who praised me will be fucked because now I'll have leverage to get promoted.

Death has been kind to me. 

Wednesday
06Jan2010

How to Plan Your own Death

The first week back from the holidays is always pretty boring in the office. People are just coming back from vacation and nobody feels like working. A lot you'd like to get done, but little motivation. Like trying to jack off to People Magazine. It's just been boring as hell around here.

So I decided to kill myself. 

No, I'm not returning to my suicidal tendencies of the past (thank God for Megan, the Suicide Hotline Volunteer; she sucked all those suicidal thoughts right out of my body).

I figure killing myself will brighten my day considerably, and for others as well. My death is just what everyone needs to pump some life back into this place.

And how hard could it be? So this afternoon I laid out a plan.

Step 1: Leak the news of my death.

Have Smithee, my imaginary boss, send a message to Tawny the Temp. She has the biggest mouth in the company. And now that I think about it, a very deep throat too. The message will read as follows:

"Please send a dozen roses to Mrs. Jason X and let her know we're sorry for her loss. He was a good man, blah blah blah. Real caring and empathetic. A death in the family is never easy, etc. etc. And keep this to yourself. Not public knowledge yet."

Tawny the Temp will infer that I have died and will spread the news like herpes at a Lady Gaga house party.

Step 2: Set up Outlook Out of Office message

This will read:

"Jason X is unfortunately unavailable. Very unfortunately. Please forward all requests to Smithee. Thank you. And our condolences." 

Step 3: Set up Voicemail

In my best Smithee voice:

"Jason is out of the office. (Sniff sniff). He won't be checking messages."

Step 4: Set up command center in conference room 3402

I'll come into work in disguise. Dark sunglasses or something. I'll take the freight elevator up to the 34th floor, work from conference room 3402. Since it's rumored to be haunted, nobody will schedule meetings in that room. And if anyone happens to see me in there, it'll make sense because they'll assume I'm a ghost. 

I have to be at work for this. I can't miss out on all the fun. I'll let Kessler and Gladstone in on it. Conklin can mourn or celebrate like the rest. I have no idea how Blair will react. Strangely. 

Pretty simple, really. Step 1. begins tomorrow morning. Hopefully I've covered all bases. If I haven't, feel free to make suggestions. 

I think I'm going to like my own death. 

Monday
21Dec2009

Holiday Party 09

How do they expect us to get really fucked up at the holiday party and make idiotic decisions we'll very clearly regret in the morning if all they serve us is beer and wine?  

Even though they tried to limit alcohol spend last year with limited drink tickets, they still had a full bar. These tickets, by the way, were very easy to counterfeit, so it really didn't matter.

Since last year's IT theme was "Christmas in Iraq," to be fair, Tefft decided this year should be "Christmas in Israel."

She asked for all the Jewish programmers to dress in what she perceived to be the traditional Israeli garb which was actually more akin to the Amish. We only have two Jewish programmers who both refused to wear what she requested, so she told them, Fine, then just wear normal Israeli clothes: anything in khaki or camouflage

The two tried to explain to Tefft that Jews don't celebrate Christmas, but then again, neither do Iraqis. 

Since we've been downsizing, there wasn't really anyone new to pick up on at the holiday party, so I decided I'd just keep it simple this year and hook up with Blair at the end of the night.

Even the simple plans never work out quite right...

Kelsey would be with her angry fiancé, so really all I had to worry about was Fiona the Cunt. So I thought.

Apparently wine does wonders to make women horny. So some of the people I thought had moved on, had other ideas once the wine started flowing.

It's like all my sins were coming back to me in the form of very horny women. Maricruz, Blendi the Unvirgin, Ha-Neul the Cannibal, Minoo the HR Coordinator, Lissa the Sox Auditor, and even Jenny, Pengilly's Assistant. It was the Ghosts of Christmas past and they all wanted to fuck me. 

Okay, not the traditional Scrooge story, especially in light of the fact that this was not punishment in the traditional sense. One by one would be fine; but this was a fucking zombie attack. Even Kelsey ended up making an attempt, despite the presence of her angry fiancé. He was busy tormenting Kornfeld, who he still believed was the one who fucked Kelsey

Gladstone, Kessler, Conklin, Petrizzo and Yaya were off trying to make time with their Users, so I decided to find an empty set and drink Goose from the flask I had in my jacket. I just wanted to wait it out. 

I found myself on the set of a game show my studio produces. So I sat on the host's desk, pulled out my flask and started drinking. 

After a few minutes, I heard the set door open and close. Someone followed me in. I thought I had eluded everyone, but apparently not. 

But I was surprised to see who walked out into the dimly lit stage: It was Jane from Softlines. The lesbian who tried to turn Athena the Lesbian into a lesbian. 

"I need a stiff one," she said. "And I knew you'd have one."

I smiled and extended her the flask. She took the flask and guzzled. She then handed it back to me.

"Thanks," she said. "But that's not what I meant." 

Took me a moment, then I looked at her surprised and said:

"I thought you wouldn't get within fifty yards of a boner."

"Just an act," she said. "I'm more pansexual. I just don't like guys hitting on me all the time, so I act like a hardcore dyke. I still need to get dick once in a while. Like tonight." 

Sometimes when plans go awry, they go awry in a good way. I don't know what pansexual is, but if it means a lesbian wants to take a spin on my dick, I'm down. 

And it was good.

Merry fucking Xmas.