Celebrity and Professional Smack Downs

Just a question before I begin today’s post: Does Angelina Jolie still have a career besides “child abductor”? Really, why exactly are we paying attention to her? Granted, her tits are nice. But still…we’re talking about a woman whose last notable acting role was in “Girl Interrupted.” That was 8 fucking years ago. No tits are spectacular enough to keep someone on the A list for 8 years without a real role. She’s Cuba Gooden Jr. with tits, ok?

Now, while I detest her as a person and find her filmography pathetic and laughable (serious, “Sky Captain,” “Alexander” and “Tomb Raider 2”? These are movies that Paulie Shore knew enough to pass on), I would none the less like to nominate a new candidate for adoption:

Me.

I’m poor, clueless, and in my career and social life, hopelessly downtrodden. Screw those starving kids in African nations. It’s time you inspired the world with a touching charity case right here at home. I’ll even wear blackface if necessary. Feel free to spank me all you like. And I swear: I’d only bust in on you changing two or three times…a day. Mama Angelina, I throw myself between your two, large, glorious, soft…hands.

Sorry about the celebrity rant. Li’l Terrorist is on hiatus once more and I get antsy when idiotic film stars go for weeks without the literary smack-down they so richly deserve.

On to people in my professional life that need a beating.

My company is truly bizarre. Granted, this is the only “real” job I’ve ever had with a large corporation, so I’ve little to compare it to, but the way of doing anything seems completely psychotic.

Example: they moved us all to a larger office in a more upscale part of town. The idea was to move us to a space with a more “professional” feel. Which translated into uniform, soulless green walls and the most hideous florescent lighting ever conceived. We’re talking lights so bright that I had to start bringing in sunscreen to work. I could probably just set up a lawn chair and reflective neck-shield in my cubical during lunch. I’m about a week away from looking like George Hamilton.

Numerous complaints and seven months later failed to bring any solution from management. The whole conflict is fascinating to watch. I don’t feel any real motivation to get involved because I took it on myself to unscrew all the bulbs in the lights above my desk. Meaning I have one of the few head-ache and tan-free cubes in this soulless office.

But my real headache is this: my company, under the vain hope of reducing the backlash of subjecting everyone cancer-causing lights, decided to throw an open-bar event for tomorrow. The idea was the loyal minions could knock off at 4 tomorrow and get drunk on the company dime until 6. Today they canceled it due to “bad weather.”

Now here’s what I don’t get: The bar in question is about half a mile from our office. The drinking was supposed to run until 6 pm. Since it was canceled, everyone has to stay for a full work day until…you guessed it, 6 pm!

Honestly, I’ve stopped trying to figure out the next move. I’m expecting to hear at any minute that they’ve canceled Christmas, due to religious reasons.