According to www.ubersite.com, a "Cock Block" is: 

The means at which one individual prevents the sexual conquest of another individual by word, action or motive and acts accordingly to prevent sexual intercourse between the fucker and the fuckee.

Maricruz works for a French-Canadian named Faudeux who happens to be both a dickhead and a major cock blocker. 

He has most likely tried and failed to dip his own pen into her company ink, and therefore now feels it his duty to also make every other man fail who attempts the same.

So as I was talking to Maricruz in her cube, Faudeux kept interrupting as if he needed to discuss business with her. I patiently waited until he ran out of fabricated business issues, then he went back to his office until he was able to fabricate more. He did this several times.

Faudeux is only a manager. However, he believes I'm a director because I have a couch in my office. Only directors get couches. I only have a couch because Emily the Facilities manager also believes I'm a director. She believes this because she counted my ceiling tiles in the last office I had, and since only directors have that many ceiling tiles, she assumed I must be a director. Ironically, I was moved out of my office because I had more ceiling tiles than I deserved because I am not a director.

Fortunately, the couch still moved with me.

I say "fortunately", because that is the exact location I was planning to fuck Maricruz. Unfortunately, I've been cock blocked by dickhead. 

The next time I stopped by to talk to Maricruz, I knew I had been fucked over immediately.

"Who's Blair?" she asked.

"Blair? Blair who?"

"I heard there was something going on between you two," she said.

That little French-Canadian cock-blocking fucker.

Well, a momentary delay. Nothing that can't be remedied.

I just need a plan. A cock blocker block plan. 

Maricruz is married. That's just one of the things I like about her. 

Never fuck around with anyone who doesn't have just as much to lose as you do.

That's one of the guiding principals of The User Pool. Certainly, I have broken that rule. Remember Megan the Suicide Hotline volunteer? Blendi the Virgin (and Unvirgin)? Athena the Lesbian? None of them are married or in a committed relationship like I am (or am supposed to be...). What's stopping them from getting a little crazy and calling my wife? Not what stops Blair. Or Lucia. Or any of the other married women I see.

So whether Maricruz is married or not and giving me the fuck me look is irrelevant to the fact that I'm going to fuck her through and through. I break my own rule more than I should because the fuck me look is the fuck me look and my dick apparently doesn't like the rules my head comes up with that interfere with what that fuck me look leads to.

So the fact that Maricruz is married is a good thing because my dick and my head can be aligned on this particular project. No inner conflict, no argument. Dick and head are one in purpose.

I actually spoke to Maricruz today. She's a Marketing Coordinator for the International Marketing department. She gave me the fuck me giggle throughout the whole conversation. That's the giggle you get every time you say something just mildly humorous. Doesn't deserve a giggle, but it gets one because it's the giggle that says, fuck me.

There's no reason to giggle this much, but I want you to know that I want you to fuck me.

I know some of you might be thinking, shit this guy is really self-absorbed. Well, that may be true. But one thing I know is when someone is giving me the actual fuck me look. Or the fuck me giggle. Or the fuck me anything. I know there are guys who think any look is a fuck me look. They're delusional. That's not what's happening here. I don't get it from all women. Not even close. I'm not so self-absorbed to think that I do or should. I'm just saying that when I see it, I know it, and I'm telling you that this girl wants it and I'm going to give it to her.

When?

Good question. But when a person gets the fuck me giggle from a woman, I can tell you this: it's right around the corner...

 

In Technology, a whiteboard is like a dick: size matters. 

The larger the whiteboard, the more important you seem and the more attractive you are to women in Technology. If it's big, they always want to touch your whiteboard. But they're intimidated by it because they know if they put something on it, there will be a lot of exposure. So it better be good.

If your whiteboard is small, you're obviously responsible for very little in the organization and therefore undesirable. 

The more diagrams and bullet points you have drawn on the whiteboard, the more overworked everyone thinks you are. So you need a lot of space. Large content translates to high performance. Size and performance always matter.

I have a very large white board. 

While most people use their whiteboards for drawing boxes that point to each other, I like drawing different renditions of my staff.

For example, when Maharajapuram broke his leg hiking, I drew him breaking his leg off with blood spewing in all directions. A little much, but I figure I should have the artistic license to elaborate a little in order to maximize the entertainment value for my audience. 

I also like to list out potential users for the user pool as if they're people I need to contact for a project or something. I can reference my whiteboard often to keep my eye on the ball, so to speak.

One thing I don't like is when people write "Don't erase" on whiteboards in conference rooms. If you have to keep something for a day so that you have time to copy it down, I'll let it go. But if I see that note on a whiteboard for more than a day, I erase it--whether I need the whiteboard for a meeting or not. I, of course, leave the "Don't erase". 

Other things you should NOT do with a whiteboard:

• Use a Sharpie, especially on your boss's whiteboard (unless he's not in the room at the time).
• Use it to write out code; code is an eyesore, I hate looking at it.
• Write things like "Blendi stopped by!! XXOO". Because before you get back, Blair stops by too and leaves the message: "You're dead."
  
• Draw pictures of naked women (unless it's on your boss's whiteboard and he's not in the room--and you're using a Sharpie).
• Use as a wakeboard; warps it and washes off the latest diagrams.

I'm sure there are other annoying uses of whiteboards as well as good uses. Feel free to contribute...

 

 

The new iPhone not only has 3G and custom apps, it also allows you to catch your dirty, rotten cheating lover. Here's how Blair tried to do it to me:

Blair somehow found a store during lunch on Friday that had iPhones in stock. She picked one up for herself then called me and asked if I wanted her to pick one up for me too. I immediately knew something was wrong. Blair does not do anyone any favors, least of all me.

Even though it's against policy, she convinced the clerk to do it for her. Blair can be a very charming person if she wants to be. It certainly helps if you don't know her.

All the clerk needed was my phone number and the last four digits of my social security number. 

That was an immediate red flag. But since I really wanted an iPhone and didn't see much of a risk (what was she going to do? Steal my identity and run up my credit cards?), I gave her the digits.

By the time I got the phone, she had already activated it for me. Once again, favors are not Blair's forte. 

I started playing with the phone and quickly realized one application had already been downloaded for me by my gracious lover. It's an app called "Whrrl". Here's the description:

Whrrl lets your friends light up your map based on the places they go in the real world. You can zero in on what they are up to right now, plus their past visits. 

Apparently, Blair didn't think I'd notice this application. She also thought that since I wouldn't notice this application, she'd be able to track my every move. She further thought she'd be able to verify if I was home like I said I'd be. She even further thought she'd be able to catch me cheating on her.

Well, it was certainly worth a try. An application my wife also would've been interested in checking out.

I disabled the feature of course. But if you and your lover both have the iPhone and he/she has downloaded a bunch of apps--he/she might not notice one more called "Whrrl". And then you can catch that dirty, rotten cheater. 

Looks like I'm safe for now. 

I'm telling McKinney today how disgusted I am when people don't wash their hands after they take a piss, or worse, after they take a shit. They're out there. Happens more often than you think. This is how the conversation went:

"I don't wash my hands after I take a piss," McKinney said.

"What?" I said, shocked. "What do you mean? You're one of them?"

"That's right," he said.

"We just did the knuckle thing."

"What knuckle thing?" he asked.

"The knuckle thing. The 'what's up' knuckle thing," I said, motioning with my fist.

"So?"

"So, when was the last time you took a piss?"

"I don't know," he said. "Doesn't matter, I don't hold my dick with my fists when I take a piss."

"How can you take a piss and not wash your hands?" I asked.

"My mother taught me how to take a piss without getting pee on my hands," he said. "So why should I wash my hands?"

"I don't piss on my hands either," I said. "But I still wash my hands."

"Why?" he asked. "Is your dick dirty?"

"What?"

"My dick is clean," he explained. "It's like touching any other part of my body. So why should I wash my hands after I touch it?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "If you touched your dick, I don't want you touching me. No more knuckle thing with you."

Well folks, there you have it. I'm curious to know what you think, so please vote. And of course, comments are always welcome--especially if you're one of "them". I'd like to understand why you do what you do... And this certainly applies to both men and women.