Sunday, July 30, 2006

how may i be of service?

women in the workplace are actually more empowered than we are led to believe.

it's true. this empowerment doesn't just come from corporate or workplace policies (ie, harrassments n stuff), but from their male counterparts thinking more with their penises than their brains. of course, in most cases, this is subject to one or more of the following: 1)she's hot; 2)there aren't much competition around; 3)she's not butt ugly.

case in point, the place where i work. it's famous among the companies around there area for having lotsa chicks, and mostly hot ones at that. although i don't really agree to the second part, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, i digress.

now, here's what most people doesn't know - the abundance of the fairer sex is only limited to a few departments, with sales having the most, obviously. from my experience with them, i know they are used to getting their way with things and people. if wiles, charms AND threats don't work, you will get an email from their boss, or to YOUR boss, or worse. of course, when it's outside of work they have most guys by their balls, and this is only half metaphorically.

those in departments overflowing with male testosterone (mine being one of those) doesn't even need to grab anyone's ball to get what they want. guys will line up to lick their feet and ask to be of service in whichever way possible. again, this is subjected to the 3 conditions above, 'cos i can definitely see a couple of them in my department not getting any special treatment at all.

so, on and around valentine's day, christmas and almost any overly-commercialized holidays, flowers and gifts flood into the office, and cluttering the desks of (almost) every non butt-ugly chick. i still remember this huge ratan bird cage with a half-foot tall teddy bear holding a heart, sitting on a swing with flowers on the bottom from last year. the whole thing was probably 2-3 feet tall and this poor girl actually had to go downstairs to the employee entrance to collect it, then bring the whole thing up to her desk, going through probably half of the office's cubicles. actually, poor girl is probably a very bad adjective to use, seeing as she's getting such affectionate thoughts.

normal days, you got random gifts, cakes or other "designer" food on desks. extra help on work so that they don't have to strain their brains too much, in case of getting new wrinkles. help with sales leads, help with technical advise, help with taking weird hour shifts and almost anything you can think of. i think the worse part of all this is that this whole thing is being rubbed in as something guys should do to be more "gentleman".

this past valentine's day, i thought i'd do something to give the ones that seldom/never get any presents a little suprise. well, just the ones i know personally. so i made cards and buy small packets of chocolates, then left those at their desks before i went home the night before valentine.
two hours later i got a call from a co-worker on night shift that night, asking whether i saw anyone leaving the chocolates and card on this chick desk. he's been going after this girl on my team for quite a while and hasn't been able to get anywhere near her pants, let alone inside them. i don't think i want to detail how "psycho" (word used to describe him by her) he gets when it comes to anything that remotely concerns her.
an observation: he's still one of her best resources at work.

that's the power women hold at work nowadays - our balls.
no, wait. your balls, probably. 'cos i definitely don't give a shit.

Saturday, July 1, 2006

i'm concerned, n i invent. (apparently)

now THIS, is some cool-ass personality test.
10 pages long, professional looking way to rank stuff. very interesting. anyway, after about 20 minutes of going thru the tests, here's my personal DNA report.
how the hell did i end up an inventor, i have not a clue. it seems like however i grow or change i can never get away from artistic stuff.
oh, n here's cute lil color map of my results. not very flattering, but hey...