The Sweet Release of Death

Ben Stein, Jan Brady, Conan O'Brien, Wizard of Oz, Stevie Wonder, Cleveland

I'm Kind of a Big Thing... In My Mind: The Encore

08/17/2010 11:13 AM Filed in:The Douche Chronicles

Just like any bombastic rock concert, it ain’t over until the sweat-drenched, spandex laden superstar takes the stage for one final number, squeals like Clay Aiken at his proctologist, and yelps “GOOD NIGHT CLEVELAND! Well The Rocker true to form, stuck to the Schlock Rock Guidebook and came back onto the Corporate Land stage and “Gave us all he’s got.” It’s a wonder the ladies in the office managed to keep their panties on let alone keep them dry, it was that great of a performance.

Now when The Rocker enters a room and begins to spew forth his special brand of Schlock Rock sales babble, the ladies may find it as appealing as a pap smear, but it sends me into an apocalyptic wasteland of thought of setting about bad deeds upon his body. His voice is about as appealing as a burnt hair-scented cologne. Think Ben Stein after 3 packs of cigarettes. It’s a monotone rambling of run-on sentences that seem to go on for days. It’s enough to make you cry like Jan Brady.

So what brought about the command performance from The Rocker you ask? Another high profile sports team, that’s what. Not only were we doomed for failure with the info provided by The Rocker, the engineering department (Space Chimp Flunkies) felt the need to contribute their special brand of stupidity to the mix. With The Rocker and Engineering combined, it became in the immortal words of Conan O’Brien: “The Mt. Rushmore of Incompetence” Oh Coco… I await your triumphant return. Apparently The Rocker, and The Space Chimp Flunkies provided wrong dimensions in another glorious display of bi-polar craftsmanship. The punch line being two different sets of dimensions for the Fabrication and, Graphics shops to sort through. This of course set into motion a skip fest into Sucksville of Wizard of Oz proportion.

Once the Fabrication Shop discovered the error, a rather rambunctious posse of managers and shop leads set about figuring a solution and, ensuring the capture of the guilty party, ending with their demise in The Supply Closet of Deliberate Retribution. As if the workday wasn’t bad enough without this clusterfuck, to compound the tingling sensation and blurred vision this job was already giving us, another player decided to skate onto the ice and enter the fracas to assure that all on the Fix It Posse will have extremely high blood pressure in deciphering his ways and means. Enter Speed Walker: The Project Manager. Speed Walker’s contribution was akin to asking a Parkinson’s-stricken Stevie Wonder to land a jumbo jet… on an aircraft carrier by “feel”

Assigning Speed Walker to project manage let alone oversee the damn thing, ensured that the project’s guidance systems were locked on for a collision course with the Iceberg of Failure. The Rocker meanwhile, seeing his precious job flounder by his own hand, began whining like a four-year-old with a poopy diaper. That’s a tune I could do without. With his Pampers choked full of pooh, The Rocker got behind the wheel of the Blame Bus and rolled through Corporate Land on a belligerent rampage of Whoa is me. The performance was highly annoying yet highly entertaining at the same time. Kinda like when Ashlee Simpson ate shit on Saturday Night Live. Definitely a “Oh no you didn’t/ what a stupid douche” moment.

Luckily for those of us that were feverishly working at righting the ship and sailing away from the Atoll of Failure, The Rocker keeping true to his rigorous work schedule of 11am to 3 pm, left Corporate Land for an important “Meeting” The Rocker angrily strutted his way out of Corporate Land, jumping into his beloved Jag and sped off in true David Coverdale fashion. But that was not the last of The Rocker. For he and his iPhone are one and they had something to say before the day was through.

As the Fix-It Posse set about completing the project and thankful for The Rocker’s removing himself from the building, a false sense of calm washed over the production floor. The calm was soon broken by The Rocker chiming in from afar: “ …This must be completed and delivered on time as the client is so far, not happy with your performance. Lets see that this gets done pronto! – Sent by iPhone.” Now those of us on the Fix-It Posse got a real good chuckle on that one as we had removed The Rocker from the recovery equation two hours previous to receiving this “Fix it or else” nugget of douchebuggery.

We simply dismissed it as yet another 2-bit number culled from the Asshole Songbook The Rocker performs from. So as a token of appreciation, I sauntered back to my desk and sat down at my keyboard and wrote a few bars of musical response back to The Rocker. A little Devil-Horned salute if you will to The Rocker’s fabulous performance: “Dear Rocker, Thank you for your charismatic leadership through this tough, trying times. I truly don’t know how I have survived this long without it. –Sent by iPhone. Not really. Sent from my computer here at work, where things get done, not hiding out at Starbucks. Enjoy your “meeting” kisses, The Fix-It Posse.” Now that’s a tune that will have all kids stomp the yard.

Tags: Ben Stein, Jan Brady, Conan O'Brien, Wizard of Oz, Stevie Wonder, Cleveland

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