Jeff and I broke the air-hockey puck at work yesterday. It is a somber air-hockeyless time.

It was a special lightweight triangular puck that was much more exciting to play with than the heavyweight round pucks. Bank shots become unpredictable and, truthfully, randomness is the spice of games.

The puck didn’t break immediately; it was something that occurred over a few days until the final break. We first noticed there was a problem when it sounded different. The way the table we play on is constructed, the goal “buckets” don’t retain the puck very well and, more often than not, the puck flies out of the retrieval hole across the room, rattling and bouncing all the way. We play so regularly, the sound it made as it bounced was just “the sound.” When that sound got low-pitched and hollow on one of its trips across the break room and upon examination, there was a faint crack in the plastic. Not much, but this was the beginning of the end.

We’re not the only two that lpay with this puck either, so when we found the puck yesterday, the sound was worse and there was also a seam in the sticker. The sticker was practically all that was holding it together. As we played, the sound got worse still until Jeff made a shot at my goal and it split in two pieces! The smaller chunk went right in my goal and the larger piece flew off the table.

“You get an eighth of a point! I’m counting it, but that’s all you get.” Jeff tried to protest, but I immediately fetched the larger piece and served it. He scored the rest of point and sent an email to our facilities manager:

Subject: Man Down

Tom,
        I regret to inform you that on this day during an intense match of skill and power we have suffered a casualty in the heat of battle.  I am uncertain of whom is to blame, but I will blame Steve as he is not composing the email and can not currently defend himself.

Tom is a great guy so he immediately came over and gave us hell for it. Jeff and I play nearly everyday at around the same time and Tom catches us in the break room often and jokingly tells us to get back to work. Hopefully that puck will get replaced soon – playing with those ordinary pucks is bland and not really fun.

This post is about human waste, and as such, there’s a page break for the squeamish. I also don’t want it smeared all over my front page. Awww! I did it anyway.

God, this post is awful, don’t read it.

I’ve no problem  using public toilets and urinals. Etiquette still applies to how and when to use the correct urinal when another one along the wall is occupied. And unlike “shitbrick” from the American Pie movies, I have no problem using the stall for public- or work-poopin’ .

What I do have a problem with is if I know there is someone else within two stalls of my own stall of choice – not just one, but two – then I will walk out of the bathroom, risk colon cancer, and poop in another place at another time.

As a kid, I would try to identify the school-poopers by their shoes. I would never call out those that I positively ID’d, but I would have a private smug moment as they walked by in which I knew they were poopin’ at school. Doing this has warped my adult life of pooping, especially at work. I see these people everyday, and they could potentially positively ID me as a work-pooper! Perish the thought right?!

Then there are the poorly-placed toilets.  The way the bathroom at work is constructed, starting from the entrance, there are a couple of urinals, the most horribly placed toilet stall, a corner and the rest of the bathroom with more stalls and urinals in a more sane configuration. There are three sides of walkable area around this stall. I can abide at most two – the front, and a single side because brother, sometimes you just have to take the stall on the end.

This “whipping-stall” is also the worst stall in the bathroom because it is directly next to the most popular urinal. The aforementioned urinals are one of regular height, and a shorter one, so nearly everyone uses the regular height urinal, and if the urinal is occupied, you have to walk past the “Frank Lloyd Wrong” stall on two sides.

I must be like a cat I guess. No one must know that I’m pooping. In public, I will not let a bomb drop if I know someone is in earshot, or I will wait for them to flush their toilet or urinal and hide my splash signature in their noise. When I was in junior high school, when I was finished with my lunch, I would ask permission to go to the band hall. The bathroom there was directly across the office and I didn’t want them to know I was usin’ it for poopin’ so I conditioned myself to poop as quickly as possible, wash my hands and step out in less than 2 minutes. I would time myself with a watch and at my peak performance, I would get to less than 60 seconds. I figure anything faster than that was a physical impossibility because some actions like hand-washing and placing strips of paper on the seat first.

When I was kid, I needed to use the bathroom, but knowing better than to just barge in to a bathroom with its door closed, I knocked first. Probably the the quickess, loudest and rudest response I can fathom:

Go away!

From my dad. Apparently being insecure about poopin’ is the way to act? Okay, Dad! Thanks for the lesson! It’s popular to blame one’s parents for faults, but I’ll just say I’m a little weird in a lot of areas, and today it’s poopin’.

It’s weird to run into people from work in the outside world.

…especially when you run into them at Wal-Mart.

…and they’re the executive custodian.

Just sayin’.

I can post again! Well, I always have been able to, but things have settled down considerably at work. I may have mentioned it before, but the call volume has been through the roof for the past 6-7 weeks, and my news queue grew amazingly fast. Everyday and throughout each day I check my RSS feed for Slashdot and add bookmarks for interesting news stories so I can view them on my downtime between calls.  Unfortunately, with little to no downtime, the list only grew. Sure I could knock out a couple on one of my short breaks, but they were comparative drops in the bucket.

But now the list is done, and I don’t know what to do with myself! …almost. Every nerd knows the first thing to do when something happens, no matter how minute, is to alert the Internet! Consider this a klaxon for idle hands, my dear Internets.  Now I can get back to posting regularly, and playing with game design docs!

And to make this post not nearly as content-free as advertised, there was an MPEG Game from eons ago called Silent Steel. You played a submarine captain for a nuclear sub in the mid-Atlantic and provided canned responses in fairly complicated dialogue trees. At some point in the game, you can visit the torpedo loading deck and talk the the chief there (don’t worry this is going somewhere, trust me – and Ame, you’ve heard all about this at least once before).

“Hi Skipper, what brings you down to the Devil’s Workshop?”

At the time I was playing the game, I thought it was a just a really cool name, but it wasn’t until years later I realized it was a pun. Submarines are part of the Navy. In the Navy, the term “all hands on deck” may ring a bell.  Torpedos on a nuclear sub aren’t fired all that often, so the hands manning the station aren’t doing much with their time – idle hands. And we all (should) know “idle hands are the Devil’s workshop.”

*groan*

I know that if you have to explain it, a joke loses its comedy almost instantly, so I’ll leave on another one.

Q: What noise does a human make when he’s crushed by a giant calculator-shaped robot?
A: sqrt

PS: Not one single spelling error! Eat taht that!

Batman has an X-men-like mutant ability. It’s passive and he has no control over it, but he’s got one. See, he got a little Marvel in his D.C. and there’s some pretty good evidence that shows what I’m talking about.

First, we’ll start with Superman. I’m not a huge fan of his, but he’s certainly more than capable of standing on his own as a character. As a Heavy Hitter, his combat is pretty one-dimensional and some of the more exciting Superman moments are when he squares off with another Heavy Hitter and he’s the underdog. Of course he’s Superman and more often than not he wins because he’s the protagonist. Even when he’s in a situation in which he must outwit his opponent, he wins. Superman is a smart guy to say the least.

Batman is at his core (other than a tortured soul) a detective – the greatest detective the world will ever know and R’as al Ghul especially knows it. Batman can outsmart anyone, period. As a member of the Justice League, he has detailed files on every member, including himself, with strengths and weaknesses as a contingency plan should they run amok. This level of wisdom and intelligence he possesses can count as his Superpower, just as Tony Stark (and even Batman himself) claims his near-infinite supply of money as his.

Batman’s mutant ability manifests when he and Superman team up together.  Superman becomes outright moronic in Batman’s presence. Look at the times they have teamed up together. Superman doesn’t get like The Incredible Hulk, but he just doesn’t have that smug, smarmy, “checkmate” attitude about himself – he’s simply a big brute that can hit things really, really, hard. Batman on the other hand becomes even morecalculating and thoughtful, if that were possible, and many more moves ahead in the game than usual. Batman has stolen Superman’s intelligence!

This explains Robin too! Robin, in any of his incarnations, is pretty capable on his own. Sometimes the plot will get him caught or kidnapped, but he’s just a kid; kids in comics get kidnapped, and I can’t really hold it against him and he’s a smart kid. Pair him with Batman though?

“HURRRRRRRR!”
-Robin

Instant M.R.

Batman’s intelligence stealing ability is passive and similar of the Brains from Futurama. Like gravity, the amount of vampiric brain-drain is inversely proportional to distance and I’m sure there’s a geometric regression for how dumb one gets depending on how long one remains within Batman’s stupefication field. He may or may not be aware of this field, but because he is so intelligent, he understands

1. He cannot control it or wield this ability consciously
2. He can strategically create situations in which he can take advantage of its effects
3. He gains no benefit by acting like the playboy billionaire goof that is Bruce Wayne

A note on that third point though, Bruce Wayne’s clumsiness may be an after-effect or a hangover of having sucked in too much IQ from others. Evidence shows that Batman as Bruce Wayne is just as capable and smart though, so that gets tossed out

To be honest, this is not an original observation of mine. This originally came from Rich, my old coworker, and I hadn’t had a chance to really expound on the idea, but I really like it just the same.

A customer called in, and the line quality was just awful. It was a cell-phone with probably half a bar of coverage, and on top of it, the background noise sounded like a tin roof in a hailstorm – more than likely it was a noisy vehicle. I gave my greeting, and then the customer responded with… well I have no idea what. The noise and the constant cutting in and out made it near impossible. A few things for sure though, screw Political Politeness. Definitely a gravelly, rednecky, “I’ll fuck you up, boy,” kind of guy. He was probably in a tractor-trailer rig with the windows down going down the highway.

I thought the call was dropped because the line went silent. I kept hailing him to see maybe if he could still hear me so he wouldn’t hangup even though I couldn’t hear him. “Are you there, sir?”; “I could hear you for a bit, and then you cut out. Is there still someone there?”; “Hello?”; and so on.

He came back! The signal got a little better, and this is what came through: “Kiss my ass you yankee bastard!”

I guess to a redneck, someone who tries to hide their Texas accent wouldsound like a yankee. Oh well.

Kids these days. Such language!

I’ve complained before, but I’ve never really gone into detail what goes on at work. Let me introduce you to two things: The beginning of a new series, the “TSR Diaries” in which I wax pathetic; and the first entry!

My job is taxing. From the outset, I answer phones with a pre-scripted greeting, troubleshoot computers, digital cameras, and printers, and send out box-kits so they can ship their equipment in or authorize technicians to work on the equipment. Not so bad until you realize I answer the phone about 40 times in a day. That’s the way its supposed to work. In addition to this, I help out newer people who don’t yet have authorization to send out parts or service, occasionally take escalations, and sometimes do mentoring.

Most people on the phone are cool. They’re your average red-blooded American who just wants their stuff to work. There are some terms of the warranty we service that can be a tad ambiguous or onerous to people, but after explained in plain English, they understand and co-operate and everybody’s happy. Just like The Pax in Serenity, there are those that don’t “lay down.” You can talk these people down and make them calm, and things are a little tense afterwards, but just be careful and you won’t set them off again. Some, there’s just no amount of talking that can make them calm. Those go to escalations.

At the end of the day, I’ve talked to dozens of people about their failing equipment, and service denials are a dime a dozen. It’s not that we don’t care, it’s just there’s finite number of things we can do. Some people don’t like that, and the abuse drags on a mind and body such as mine. but this first entry isn’t about that – you’ll just have to be patient .

Bob Slydell: What would you say ya do here?
Tom Smykowski: Well look, I already told you! I deal with the goddamn customers so the engineers don’t have to! I have people skills! I am good at dealing with people! Can’t you understand that? What the hell is wrong with you people?

At work today, pizza was provided in the break room as the first day of Employee Appreciation Week. It was Cici’s, so it was terrible of course, but I still helped myself to a couple slices. Come on, free pizza! Why wouldn’t I pass it up?

It got me thinking though. The slices were ridiculously small, something like 20 slices to a large pie. I know Pizza Hut will allow you give special instructions for how to slice the pizza. The example they give is “cut into squares.” That’s a pretty neat service if you ask me. Why not ask for something obnoxious though? The reasons are obvious, like not wanting extra off-menu toppings (gross) on your pizza, but how about a pizza cut into 7 slices?

Anything 5 slices and under require only a little thought. Everyone knows how a 5 point division works. 6 is an easy concept, the cuts go all the way through, the difficulty is simply in getting the slices all the same size; but from my experience in receiving pizzas for delivery, this mustn’t be a hard and fast requirement either – even on the standard 8 slice pie…

7 though. That’s tricky. It’s seven cuts, all halfway through. And on large surfaces, the middle is hard to find unless you mark it. And what are you gonna mark it with? A topping? Maybe not, overshooting the middle is acceptable for difficult cuts though so I’ll let that slide. You might get lucky and get an engineering major who’s putting himself through college on this one and end up with a perfect result.

And on the maximum side, anything over 10 is ridiculous. Even on extra-large pizzas, the slices get too small after 12. You might be able to do an 11-slice pizza on that size of pizza, but with the same technical difficulties as a 7 or even a 9.

How about cutting it into pieces that aren’t slices at all? A spiral cut that’s still one piece, or a pentagon or pentagram? That could be fun…

“Avoid the noid”

Weekends are turning out to be the best time for content around here – and I’m not even talking about my non-traditional Tuesday-Wednesday weekends that I have. Saturday and Sunday prove the best days to kick back and relax and play with my website.  There’s really a lot to do if you want; a public sandbox. Actually, a private sandbox that everyone can look into and see what I’m up to.  It’s more like a zoo I guess!

Saturday, I drew a Waffle Block. I need to scan it in and make it the front page for awhile. I’m proud of myself for sort of maintaining things around here semi-regularly. Oh, what’s a Waffle Block? Here, I’ll make it a little more clear:

[14:36] Bobby: http://img.waffleimages.com/…/nosferatu.gif
[14:36] Bobby: hahahah
[14:37] Steneub: blocked by work
[14:37] Bobby: dawww
…
[14:39] Steneub: no… can you put it on imageshack? waffle is blocked
[14:39] Steneub: waffleblock. hehehe
[14:39] Steneub: sort of like WCC
…
[14:48] Steneub: I’m currently drawing a Waffle-block
[14:48] Bobby: heh
…
[16:39] Steneub: my waffleblock isn’t perfect :C
[16:41] Steneub: butter and syrup will make it batter
[16:41] Steneub: LOLOL
[16:41] Steneub: better I mean
[16:41] Bobby: nono, batter

Bobby was trying to show me some images using Waffle Images, which I highly endorse as a matter of fact, but here at work it’s blocked by the filters. Boo. Some funny came of it though!

First things first: Definition of meme. I only put this here ’cause it’s a relatively new word to English, so I’ll be generous and educate those who don’t know.

I’ve got some memes that, well, let’s be honest here… I guess they’re more inside jokes in the vein of “You had to be there.” I’m just blogging about it and waving my dick in your face while I talk about how awesome I am at brandishing my genitals. But what else is blogging about or for, I ask? What, indeed?

But I digress far, far too much. Here’s the list and some explanations. Enjoy it or die in a lightning fire made of cars.

• Cocket Snatch
  Bam! Cocket Snatch! It sounds dirty, doesn’t it? Really, it’s just a derivative of a brainstorming session to title a game modification for Unreal Tournament 200X. We were taking an original, licensed game, Rocket Jockey (a totally killer game, by the way), taking the core gameplay, and making it our own. We couldn’t name our game Rocket Jockey of course, so we came up with a list of titles. Rocket Grab was one of them, but that just seemed gay. Enter: Cocket Snatch. It’s like Rocket Snatch, but this one is intensely funnier. Ever since this brainstorming session, Cocket Snatch is on the list almost every time for sake of tradition.
• Dollar Cakes
  When I was but a lad wandering through the nudity of the Internet, I saw a word. I couldn’t pronounce the word. I knew I didn’t like what I saw alongside the word. It was a label. But I didn’t know if pronouncing it “Buck Cake” was correct. I later learned it was Bukkake, but I just tucked this nugget away for later.Coworker Steve and I were talking, and as conversations go, teenage masturbation is a roundhouse subject. You can always follow the train of thought and logic back to it. I decided to dig up my “Buck Cake” story for him, and he remembered thinking the same thing too! Over the course of the week, we would mutter “buck cake” to one another, and burst into laughter. It eventually evolved into cakes costing one dollar (a buck). Hence, “Dollar Cakes.”
• Baggadix
  Once again, this one has to do with coworker Steve. He was being especially pissy, for who knows what reason. I kept telling him to eat things like “bags of hell” and “dicks.” It continued until I told him to “Eat a bag of dicks.” Apparently the possibilities here were endless. “Eat 10 bags of 20 dicks” was just one of the phrases uttered. Eventually I grew weary and simply said “bag o’ dicks.” It’s not a huge mental leap from here to get to Baggadix. It sounds like a breakfast cereal though, like Trix, so it stuck.
• Liquid Bees
  You know, sometimes I don’t even know. Just – liquid fucking bees, okay?
• Lemonade from the ass well!
  Kyle Naziaxier (hehe, another inside joke), Allison, and I were driving someplace. Kyle had a habit of lingering the ’s’ of “as well,” making it sound like he was saying “ass well.” I, being the goofball that I am, had to do something with it, so in a strange voice, I crooned,”Ass well? You can drink lemonade from the ass well!”

So there you have it. A strange look into why I say what I say. There’ll probably be another entry similar to this sometime in the near future as I recall more weird shit I say.