Mercenary Words

A Reading from the Book of Manion

2006-06-23T17:53:00.000-04:00

nd so it came to pass in the land of Penetrode, that a tester of QA created a program. The program compiled and it was good in the eyes of the tester. The program would forbid the tribe of QA from using the Microsoft Notepad. And the tester did send the program forth that she might confirm that Penetrode Enterprise was working in accordance with the strictures set forth by the tribe of Development.

The tester's faith was sorely tested when the program went forth, for the Notepad paid it no heed, and ran freely upon the land, taking notes and such. Much was the wailing of the tribe of developers when the tester cried "Bug!" and "Showstopper!"

Sorely vexed were the developers, for the program was small, and appeared correct. Many were the options they considered, yet denied were they all, for the Notepad ran unhindered.

After three hours and minutes thirty, the tester made a suggestion. "Shall we not seek the help of the most high Lance Manion? For did he not write the book from which we create our programs?"

And the developers waxed most wroth. "No," said they. "For this problem is beyond his ken. It is not given to the writer of words to know these secrets. The problem must be one of dlls. Or possibly kernel interaction. Service Packs maybe? Did you write this on a Japanese machine?"

But the tester had faith, and approached the Manion. "Manion most Lance-tastic, willst thou gaze upon the program and make known to us the flaw?"

And the Manion gazed upon the tester and was pleased by her faith. "Bring unto me the program that I may better understand it."

The tester did bring the program and an offering of Diet Coke. Manion was mightily pleased by the offering, and looked closely upon the program. Thirty seconds later he sent forth the tester to assemble all of the tribes of engineering, including development, QA, and professional services. When the tribes were assembled, Manion did lift the program on high. And Manion did point out that there is an 'a' in the second half of the word Notepad.

And the tester did correct her spelling, and the plague of Notepad was lifted from Penetrode. Cancelled was the bug, and much was the feasting that followed.

This is the word of the Manion.

LM

Live Fire Manion

2006-06-19T17:15:00.000-04:00

So for Father's Day I went trap shooting with my father. It's kind of like skeet shooting. You get a shotgun and machines in two little huts fling 3-inch wide orange clay frisbees out into space. You get two shots, one at each frisbee. It sounds hard. In reality, it's even harder. However, the experience taught me the following life lessons:

Loading your shotgun with five shells and emptying the magazine at a fleeing frisbee (and still missing) will get you chastised by the operators of the range.

Missing repeatedly, followed by charging out onto the range and smashing the still intact frisbee with the butt of your shotgun will get you threated with ejection.

Running up to the clay throwing hut, sticking the barrel of your shotgun in the little window and shooting the clay thrower repeatedly at point blank range while screaming "Dodge this you bastard!" will actually get you thrown out.

My shoulder is still bruised technicolor from the recoil, but it was fun.

LM

A Journey of Personal Discovery

2006-06-14T14:04:00.000-04:00

So I went to the Mens room today. This in itself is not an unusual event. I go on a healthy and regular basis. But today as I was standing in front of the urinal, I noticed something. I was unable to locate the fly hole of my boxers. Without the fly hole, the magical pants weasel remains caged in the prison of my shorts. And I can't pee without causing what the commercials refer to as "personal wetness" At least I think that's what they're referring to.

Anyway, there was no cause for immediate alarm. Sometimes the flyhole shifts a little to the left or right. So I started searching. Nada. What about up? Okay, maybe down? Absolutely nothing.

Well, not nothing if you know what I mean, but this isn't a story about the size of my junk. Which is huge. Seriously. Porn-star like. A behemoth of schlong-osity. Just saying.

Anyway, while this is going one, a lawyer from the firm next door took up position at the urninal next to me. He stared fixedly ahead as I continued my search, as I brought both hands to bear, muttering things like "What the hell? It has to be here somewhere!" If you ever want to make a fellow rest room user uncomfortable, start talking to your crotch region when he's standing next to you. His gaze on the wall was so intense I expected the tile to crack. He left in a real hurry without washing his hands.

Still, my search came up empty. And things were beginning to reach critical mass. Finally I grabbed the waist band and pulled it down. And saw the label of my boxers. Yes, I had put my shorts on backwards this morning.

I'm not saying that I should get more sleep, but it's not what I'd call a good sign.

I thought about going into a stall, uh, reversing polarity, but decided against it. I kind of like the extra snugness up front.

Just thought I'd share.

LM

Quelle Surprise!

2006-06-12T17:21:00.000-04:00

So one of the many visitors to Mercenary Words, one Tor Kristensen, has shared with me that there is in fact a thriving French gangsta rap scene. So I went out and downloaded "Eclater un type des assedics" by Akhenaton. It's interesting. I'd have expected French gangsta rap to make frequent reference to the Bordeaux market. Sort of a "Latour be frontin, stone cold oakin,' the grapes be chillin' but he be chokin'" something to that effect.

In fact, the example that I found was primarily about putting a beatdown on the welfare office.

Here's a sample lyric -

You do not have a blue left leg
You are not entitled to welfare
And your right testicle is heavier than the left

Nary a brie reference out there! That testicle thing is kind of disturbing, though. Not sure what that's about.

Unfortunately, now I have a mental image of a public service announcement in France - I see images of guys falling over because the "boys" have gotten out of whack. "Don't let testical imbalance happen to you. Get checked today!"

All I know is the first thing I do when I get home is teabagging the scale. I don't want to fall victim to "Testicle imbalance - the silent killer"

Nuh Uh!

2006-05-31T16:34:00.000-04:00

And so you're all like, "What happened to Lance?" and I'm all like "Hey, I'm right here," and then you're like "But you haven't written anything in like a month, and I'm all, "Well you haven't written anything either," so you start with the "Why should I be writing something for your blog? So I'm like "Yeah, well, you're not the boss of me" and then you go all "Hey, don't go all gettin in my grill," and then I'm "Why don't you make me" and you're "I don't make garbage, I burn it", and then I'm all "Oooh, snap, bitch"

And it goes down hill from there. What I'm saying is, I'll try to resume posting on a regular schedule. Anyone know where I can buy amphetamines?

LM

Lance Manion Shares His Personal Space

2006-05-05T14:51:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned yesterday, Penetrode has a very international employee base. It's normally not much of an issue except for weird smells in the microwave. But last week it hit close to home.

We periodically have company-wide meetings in our largest conference room. We've passed the point where there are enough chairs, so we latecomers end up standing in the back of the room.

This is what happened to me. I found a good space in a corner for optimal leaning, and got ready to wait out the meeting. And more people came in after me. Most of these newcomers were Penetrode's Chinese contingent. I've worked with all of them. On a personal level I like them.

Unfortunately, their idea of personal space is anything that isn't actively occupying my body cavities. It was difficult. I like my space. And they were touching me. Touching me! The worst part was that there was lots of space elsewhere else.

I started to sweat. It would be rude (and a little immature) to start shouting "Stop touching me! Get away! " But at the same time, I needed to do something. I tried moving further into my corner, but they kept close. It was like were huddling for warmth or something.

So I faked a seizure. Sure, it was a little embarrasing to tell the EMT's to "never mind", but still it was worth it. They were touching me!

LM

Snack Pack, Bitches!

2006-04-24T17:41:00.000-04:00

I was just in the kitchen here at Penetrode. Someone had purchased a box of "Snack Pack Big Cups". But because it was on its side, I briefly thought it read, "Snack Pack, Bitches!"

And when I double checked, I was deeply disappointed. I think it would be great if there were a product called Snack Pack, Bitches! It would be just a small part of the whole "...,Bitches" line. It could be like Newman's Own, but more ghetto. Instead of Newman's Own Popcorn, we'd have Popcorn, Bitches! But it is not to be. The world isn't ready for Food, Bitches! I am disappointed again.

This incident reminded me of another great disappointment. Pull up a chair and prepare to hear about Jim's tremendous Aliens disappointment.

I was walking through the touristy district between Leicester Square and Picadilly Circus with my roomies, Amandarama and Fightguy. And standing in front of a building were two men dressed as Colonial Marines. Being big fans of the movie Aliens, we walked over to see what was up.

"What's this?" we asked.

"It's a new attraction called Alien War," one of the marines explained. "It uses some of the sets from Aliens and Alien 3. You get to go through and experience the movie first hand."

"Do we get pulse rifles?" I asked, half joking.

"We don't have the permits yet for rifles, but we do have handguns," he replied.

Suddenly, I had an erection like never before. Finally, I would have my dream of locking, loading, and handing out xenomorph ass on a personal basis. In my mind I was already warming up my favorite lines, "Let's rock!" "Yeah you want some of this? Yeah? You too?" and "They mostly come out at night. Mostly."

And yet, before I whipped anything out (wallet or otherwise) I knew I had to make sure. Somehow it seemed too good to be true. And also likely to result in the deaths of hundreds of customers.

"So," I asked, hoping against hope, "If we buy tickets, you'll give each of us a handgun with live ammunition and let us blast away at Aliens?"

"Oh, no!" Said the marine, "We use blanks..."

Blanks, I thought. Well, that's probably a lot safer. It might still be worth doing...

And then the other marine chimed in, "...and only the actors get to handle the guns. Participants play the role of colonists."

I was crushed. Colonists? Colonist makes the role of red shirt look like a good career decision. I didn't want to be a colonist! I wanted scream epithets while blindly firing a machine gun and practicing appalling gun safety.

So we left. Sadder but wiser. What kind of world is this where tourist attractions don't involve live ammunition and handguns? Answer - a pretty damn depressing place. And I can't even drown my sorrows in Beer, Bitches!

LM

Spawn of Manion

2006-04-16T18:05:00.000-04:00

4/14/06, Quinn Mackenna Manion was born. She's 7 lbs 4 oz, 20 inches long, and as deadly as she is beautiful.

LM

Altitude Sickness, or "I'm pretty sure that squid's not real"

2006-04-12T11:25:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time I went out to visit Mrs. Manion's family in Colorado. They live near Castle Rock, in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. I'm more of a sea level kind of guy myself.
The trip started poorly. My flight left at 6 AM. Being an idiot, I decided, "You know, if I'm going to have to get up at 3 AM to get to the airport, I'm just going to push through and have an all nighter."

So I was already pretty zonked when the plane touched down in Denver. I compensated by chugging lots of Diet Coke. Unfortunately, the caffeine in Diet Coke, while a stimulant (all hail caffeine), is also a diuretic, so it dries you out.

So what do we have so far?

dehydration
fatigue
reduced O2

So I'm in Colorado, and Mrs. Manion and I decide to visit Seven Falls, pushing us up around 8,000 feet. I'm not feeling real well, but I hate to disappoint, so I press on.

At this point, I'm feeling a woozy, but I'm okay. I think. I start having a conversation with Mrs. Manion, who then says, "Who are you talking to?"

"You," I answer.

"But I didn't say anything," she says.

Then I know that not all is well at Lance Manion HQ. But I don't want to alarm her. So we keep driving around. And out the passenger side window I see a squid with a taco stand. And I think, "I've never been to Colorado. It's entirely possible that they have giant squids that own and operate taco stands." And then I think, "It's also possible that I'm severely fucked up."

So we get to Seven Falls. It's very nice. A network of waterfalls in among the mountains. There are some pictures of us there. I look like like my name should be Smokey McPot. We hang there for a while and get ready to drive home.

Did I mention that I'm the one driving? Well, yeah. It's my rental car. I'm not letting some hallucinations get in my way.

So we drive home. The challenge is figuring what's real and what's not. So I evaluate everything I hear against whether or not it sounds like something that might really happen. I did pretty well. Sure there were some non sequitors, and I ran a few red lights that turned out to be real after all, but that tends to happen with me.

We made it home okay, and I passed out for a while. I still regret not trying the squid tacos though.

LM

Excellent!

2006-04-11T15:44:00.000-04:00

I'm kind of stoked today. Mercenary Words got a hit from someone in San Dimas, California. That's right! San Dimas, home of Ted "Theodore" Logan and Bill S. Preston, Esquire.

These two fine gentlemen were founding members of one of the all time great rock bands (Wyld Stallyns) and heroes of one of the best 80's comedies, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Why was it excellent? Not only because it rocked, but because it also featured my favorite Go-Go, Jane Wiedlin. Plus I once scored while playing the Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure soundtrack on my CD player.

So why does a hard-rockin' ass-kickin' guy like Lance Manion (the kind of guy who has what it takes to refer to himself in the third person) enjoy the Go-Go's? Because they partied harder and did more coke by 9 AM than I will by... um... well... anyway, the Go-Go's partied hard and rocked out. And Jane (the one with the green hair on the right) was the cutest of the lot. I was crushed when I saw her on Rock and Roll Jeopardy and it turned out that she was not the sharpest tool in the shed. But still pretty damn perky.

Anyway, the most exotic hit I got before this was some guy from Luxembourg. Luxembourg is the country with the motto "Mir wëlle bleiwe wat mir sinn" - translation - "We ripped our flag off from France." On the plus side, friends of mine tell me that Luxembourg makes some kick-ass beer, so I suppose it balances out.

I'd have given a shout out to my Luxembourgian visitor, but then residents of all the other independent grand duchies in the world would want shout outs, and frankly I don't have that kind of time.

So in conclusion, "San Dimas high school football rules!"

LM

Mental Note

2006-04-10T17:22:00.000-04:00

Yes, today it's a Mercenary Words twofer!

Anyway, I listen to music on my headphones a lot at work. The headphones plug directly into my laptop. When I go to a meeting, I put the laptop in sleep mode, unplug the 'phones, and bring it to the meeting.

Anyway, note to self - Remember to shut down the mp3 player before unplugging the 'phones and waking up the computer. Forgetting to do this results in the executive committee hearing the tail end of Travis Tritt's "Here's a Quarter (Call Someone Who Cares)" at maximum volume.

FYI, the executive committee is more of an adult contemporary crowd. If only I had some Sarah Maclachlan. Sad.

LM

Lance in Translation

2006-04-10T17:13:00.000-04:00

So today I've been working the translation of my books. It sounds all glamorous. "Hey, Lance, we'd like to translate your books in Japanese!"

If anyone ever gives you the choice between translation and being repeatedly punched in the nut sack (female readers will have to use their imaginations here), take the nut punching.

Seriously. There are few things more painful that going through over 1000 pages of documentation sorting out the little changes (ooh! I added a / on page 26) from the stuff that doesn't matter (like page numbers changing). There are some tools that can automate things, but it's painful no matter how you cut it.

All I know is now I've at least got justification for drinking heavily.

LM

The Stench

2006-03-29T17:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I was at a meeting today. I attend a lot of meetings. It's a good way to look busy without actually doing anything.

Anyway, this was a pretty crowded meeting, so we were packed pretty closely. So far so good. And halfway through the meeting, something starts to tickle my nostrils. Then something starts assaulting them.

Yes, someone in the meeting was passing gas. Ripping off a few silent but deadlies. And it was horrible. I'm not sure what goes on in this person's colon, but I doubt it can be explained by normal biochemical processes. It was nasty beyond all possible description. And it didn't stop.

At first I hoped that the air would just clear on its own. But it didn't. My eyes were beginning to tear. I looked around, trying to figure out who had inflicted this stench upon me. No one looked guilty. And the smell just kept getting worse.

I expected some undead creature to emerge from beneath the table or something. It would have explained the green tint in the air. And hideous evisceration was starting to look pretty good.

Eventually the meeting drew to a close. The host asked if there were any questions.

I stood and asked, "Which of you bastards has been blasting farts from the deepest pits of Hell?"

Well, I didn't really. But I wanted to. I really did. I mean come on, how low is that? Farting repeatedly in a crowded room? That's pretty evil even by my standards.

LM

Traduzca el Manion

2006-03-27T16:43:00.000-05:00

My musical tastes, as I'm sure you know, are pretty broad. For example, today I'm listening to Mexican gangsta rap. Specifically, Si Senor, by Control Machete, off their album Solo Para Fanaticos.

Unfortunately, I took French in high school and college. (Who here wants to discuss proto-feminism in the works of Marguerite Duras? You know you do!) On the plus side, I can inquire as to the location of your aunt's pen in flawless French (It's on your uncle's bureau). On the down side, there's almost no French gangsta rap. Interessant, n'est-ce pas?

So when I'm filled with the overwhelming urge to know what I'm rapping along to, I have to track down the lyrics and feed them into Babelfish. And this is what I get.

"It tells me that one feels,
Tell me that one feels
Tell me that the sweat in the forehead feels
Tell me that it feels,
Tell me if you have a feeling
Tell me that the sweat in the forehead feels"

It's interesting, because I understand all of the individual words, and yet the final product might as well still be in Spanish. Sometimes that's the way it shakes down here at Mercenary Words.

LM

The Return of the American Jerk

2006-03-24T13:31:00.000-05:00

So it's with great excitement that we announce the return of the American Jerk. The American Jerk, or Mr. Scoop as he was sometimes known around these parts, has restarted his own blog.

Turns out that he hates being called Mr. Scoop. Had I known, I would have referred to him as Mrs. Amandarama, or something like that. But if he thinks I'm going back through all 152 entries here and checking for his name to update it, he's got another thing coming.

In the early day of the intraweb, the American Jerk was well known as THE site to go to for dark humor, bestialy pics, and homemade explosive mixtures. I still use his recipe for Palmolive and unleaded in my disputes with local law enforcement.

Unfortunely, the American Jerk was eventually shut down after a nine day standoff with a Dominoes delivery guy. Details are vague, but the local paper later described the incident as "Topping dispute ends with 9 dead, dozens left homeless".

But I digress. From the staff of Mercenary Words, let us just say "Welcome back, and it's about damn time."

LM

Gangsta Manion

2006-03-23T12:42:00.000-05:00

One of the many little known bits of Manion trivia is my brief foray into gangsta rap. It's true. For a brief period of time, (last Tuesday from 2:15 to 2:47) I was known as Chromosome M.

Why Chromosome M, you ask? It's pretty simple.

In fish genetics circles, Chromosome M identifies separate metaphase chromosomes by distinguishing these virtual colors. However, when Chromosome M determines gene expression in the embryo, the overlap of two patterns is represented by the third virtual color, making it unavailable to visualize the expression of a third gene. But because the nascent transcripts of genes occupy discrete volumes in the nucleus, the virtual coloring schemes established for chromosomal M-FISH can also be applied to the detection of gene expression on a per nucleus basis.

Get it? Per nucleus basis? It just slays my geneticist buddies.

Unfortunately, no one else gets it.

Plus, being a Volvo driving honky pretty much shot my credibility to hell. Vibe magazine described me as a "...whack-ass hoopty driving wannabe, with a fish fetish"

One of these days I'm going to make another run at it, but with another name. Possibly a play on Hegel's Phenomenology of Reason.

LM

Danger Manion

2006-03-20T17:18:00.000-05:00

So this past Saturday morning, I was driving along a windy country road behind a beat up old Camry. Nothing was out of place was we drove along. And then we went through a broad curve. And the Camry decided that it didn't want to be constrained by existing social mores regarding things like roads and lanes. Instead of following left through the curve, it continued straight, at about 45-50 miles an hour.

The first thing it hit was a telephone pole, blasting it to pieces and ripping down the power lines. I would have thought the pole would stop the car, but I was wrong. It continued through a front yard, and into a couple of parked cars. It was pretty spectacular.

I pulled over to see if the driver was okay.

The family that lived in the house came to the window and immediately called 911.
The driver seemed okay. A little disoriented, perhaps. I'm not sure if the disorientation was from the crash, or perhaps a little St. Paddy's day fun that ran late. After all, with no brake lights, no skid, no effort to avoid anything, we're clearly not talking the most alert driver in the world.

He seemed a little bothered by the damage, and after telling me that he was okay, started walking away. I wasn't sure what to do, but I didn't want to physically restrain the guy, so I stayed at the scene of the accident and waited for the police.

The cops arrived about five minutes later, having picked up the driver on their way up. The first officers ran the plates of the car. After that, it got exciting. The conversation went something like this:

Cop - Is this your car?

Driver - Um, yeah.

Cop - Surprise! No it's not.

Turns out the car was stolen! And forty-three more cruisers suddenly appear.

So I had been the only witness to a real Grand Theft Auto style fiasco. The family whose yard and cars were trashed were more than a little irate. I had to hang out for a while and give a statement to the cops. They really doubt that I'll be asked to be a witness or anything. Still, I like that I've done my bit for the justice system.

LM

Lance Manion Needs Caulk

2006-03-16T13:11:00.000-05:00

So there's a small gap between the siding of my house and the foundation. Being fairly handy, I went to the Home Depot to buy some silicone caulk to seal the gap. What follows is a mostly true story of my adventures there:

I got to Home Depot and went looking for caulk. I tried Fasteners and plumbing, but came up empty. I approached a nearby employee and said "Hi, I'm looking for caulk."

He looked at me for a moment. Then looked quickly to his right and left, and motioned for me to follow him. We entered the mens room. I was a little surprised. It would, however, explain why I couldn't find the caulk to begin with.

Then he motioned for me to join him in one of the stalls. One thing led to another, and I didn't want to be rude. I'd rather not talk about it, to be honest.

I left feeling somewhat cheapened. On my way out, I passed the caulk. It was in the Paint section. Next time I'm going to be more careful with my word choice.

LM

Shout Out

2006-03-09T16:46:00.000-05:00

And I'd just like to give a big Mercenary Words shout out to our visitor from London, England who came to Mercenary Words while searching Yahoo for the string "wanging your penis"

Whoever you are and whatever you're up to, I hope that you find the penis wanging that you seek.

LM

Lance Manion Sings Понимающее and Other Uzbek Classics!

2006-03-09T16:30:00.000-05:00

First, some exposition. Penetrode, like most software companies, has a pretty international group of employees. In addition to your basic Americans (of all sorts) we've got Russian nationals, Chinese nationals, Indian nationals, Japanese nationals, a scattering of EU countries, and a few others I can't recall.

"So what, Lance?" you're probably saying. Well, having a lot of different cultures working in close contact has had some interesting results. And I'm going to share a few of these with you. Today it's music. So put your hands together.

Anyway, For the official Penetrode Holiday Party this past year we all got video iPods. Not a bad gift, all told. And it's had an interesting side effect. People have been bringing in their MP3 collections and putting them on the network.

The results are surprising and educating. I've been listening to the contents of one developer's iPod. Unbeknownst to him - that's the great thing about being a security company. We have lots of ice and ice cutters - mad props to mah boy William Gibson. But I digress.

Alekseyev's iPod is loaded with Russian rock and pop. This isn't surprising given that the developer hails from the town of Chelyabinsk, in beautiful downtown Siberia.

The Russian rock scene is pretty eye opening. One tune, Понимающее by сердце sounds like some guy is taking a dump sideways while being given the heimlich maneuver. I have no idea what the lyrics are, though it seems to be an uptempo number. Maybe he's focussing on the song being over. I dunno. And Russian pop has a startlingly high accordion content. Who knew? Also, the word guitar is the same in English and Russian. No kidding.

One tune (Понимающее for those of you who care) has a reeeeaally weird spoken word bit with a guy who sounds like he smokes twelve packs a day.

I can also tell you that Alekseyev really likes Пикник. They (or possibly he) sounds like an Uzbek Marilyn Manson. He's got four albums by these guys.

To be fair, all of this beats the hell out of Tomoko's Japan-pop. That stuff sounds like kittens being pulled through a strainer.

So consider yourselves culturally broadened.

LM

PS. I don't want to get into how many language packs I had to install to get the cyrillic to render properly.

"Lance needs...."

2006-03-03T17:46:00.000-05:00

Because I'm not feeling real inspired today, I'm reusing something I saw on fightguy's blog. It's pretty simple, and I was vaguely amused by the results.

Instructions - Go to Google, put your name followed by needs together in quotes. (Ex: "Sarah needs"). Now post five of them.

Lance needs to note that the Ogam wheel is not by itself a calendar, but gives rise to a family of calendars, one of which is used by Charles. - Not sure what this means, but it sure sounds impressive.

Lance needs to decide if he is or isn't going to grow a goatee - I've thought about the goatee thing, but I'm going to wait until it's definitively uncool before going ahead with it.

Lance needs to vanquish an evil being. - Fortunately I did this twice before lunch. Man, I hate the Marketing department.

Lance needs to check the box declaring himself gay to push himself ahead of Asian-Americans with straight A grade averages. - Hey, whatever it takes, you know?

Lance needs a day or two more of drying. - Actually I haven't had anything to drink since last weekend, so I'm already pretty dried out. But today's Friday, and the Scoops are visiting tomorrow...

LM

Net Effect of Promotion

2006-03-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

So several of you have written to me asking what the actual results of my recent promotion are. I list them here:

I can now communicate telepathically with tapeworms. This has led to an interesting personal discovery about the contents of my intestines.
I can now officially declare a party to be either bangin' or whack
Although my job title remains "Drone/Bottomfeeder" my direct reports will now be referred to as "sub-minions"
I can authorize company expenditures of up to $10 at Circle-K.
I am now permitted to take Centrum Silver vitamins, despite being under the recommended age. Truly, it's a great time to be silver.
On business casual days, I can now get away with wearing a tuxedo t-shirts.
In the event of Enron-scale malfeasance, I may be called upon to act as a scapegoat.
My business cards now come with my name pre-printed, instead of a fill-in-the-blank.
I am now permitted one fake doctor's appointment per month.
When I finally am fired, I will not be charged for the cardboard box containing my stuff.

Yes, it's a pretty proud time in the Manion household. Screw the expense, tonight we're eating the good cat food!

LM

An Office Ninja Gets Promoted

2006-03-01T11:14:00.000-05:00

So you may remember that I was recently fired from Penetrode for my bold new ideas involving diseased ticks. Well, being fired may sit fine with some people, but not with me. And certainly not with an Office Ninja.

The challenge as I saw I was getting the termination paperwork from the VP of HR before it could be processed. But the VP was on vacation, and his office was locked. Lance Manion simply isn't equipped for this kind of skullduggery. But an Office Ninja is. Oh yes.

There's a small air vent that runs above all of the executive offices. I could get in, and slither over the heads of the execs, dropping down in the VP's office. I knew it would be a tight fit, so I went down to the cafeteria salad bar and took off my clothes. I surveyed my choice of lubricants. I thought about the thousand island dressing, but eventually went with a basic viniagrette. I thought the orange dressing might look silly.

So once I lubed up, I snuck over to the air vent. It's a narrow opening only about 2 inches by 8 inches. Even with the lubricant, the Office Ninja was having serious space issues. After ten minutes of serious effort, I had managed to get half an arm into the vent.

To make things more awkward, I was in office's main hallway, and Bob, the QA manager stopped by. "So, uh, Manion," he asked, "You uh, seem to be, um, naked and oiled on the floor of the hallway."

"Yeah, Bob. Seems to be the case." I replied.

"Any particular reason?" Bob asked.

"Lost my keys." I answered.

"Oh." he said. "After a lengthy pause, Bob started up again. "My wife, and I, we sometimes get together with other like-minded couples for, um, some sort of experimental lifestyle choices...."

"Really, Bob. How's that working out for you?"

"Pretty well, pretty well. Um, do you think that you and Mrs. Manion might be interested in joining us at some point?"

"Not really, Bob, but thanks for asking. I'm just going to keep looking for my keys now."

"Sounds good, Manion. Good luck with that." And Bob left. Still, I knew that my vent plan just wasn't working out, so I extricated myself, and retreated to the cafeteria to get some lunch and think about a plan B. Also, my clothes were still in a pile by the salad bar.

So I got my clothes and just used a wrecking bar to force the door open. A quick search turned up the notice of termination. I post it here for you to see the kind of place Penetrode is.

Employee Name - Lance Manion
Reason for Termination - We at Penetrode have made a significant effort to integrate Mr. Manion into our organization. Unfortunately, his obsession with "rage" and his tendency to run naked through the office has had a detrimental effect on our organization. Despite repeated warnings, we find it necessary to terminate Mr. Manion's employment at Penetrode.

I immediately ate the notice. I did this for two reasons. One - it quickly and permanently destroyed the evidence. And two - I've been trying to get more fiber. And then I had a moment of inspiration. The rest of HR would still be expecting some sort of notice or direction. So why not replace the termination with something a little better? So I got a blank sheet of paper and wrote of the following notice of promotion and put it in his outgoing mail box.

By using what is possibly the girliest font in existance, I guarantee that the VP will simply deep six the note rather than carry it around.

And the plan appears to have worked, as I've been promoted to Documentation Manager. I can just imagine the look on the VP's face when he gets back from vacation!

LM

Mind of a Manion, das dritte Teil

2006-02-27T14:56:00.000-05:00

Kind of tired today, so I'm just going to share some things that I've got on my mind.

Mister Wrong

One of the all-time great songs that no-one has ever heard is "Mr. Wrong," by Cracker. It reminds me a lot of myself as a young man. Three passages are really frighteningly accurate -
"I drive a one-eyed Malibu without a muffler, and a tape deck that works if you kick it hard enough. Baby, if you like to read, I got some great pornography..."
"Well, no I'd rather not go and meet your family. They'd prob'ly send me back where I belong. Don't want to hear about your Mr. Right, 'cause he's out of town tonight. Baby, come and spend some time with Mr. Wrong."
"And now do you have a girlfriend? And does she look as good as you? Hey would she like to meet my brother? He'll be out of jail in a month or two..."

Roomba Deathmatch

As a gift this Christmas, I got an iRobot Roomba, one of those cute little robotic vacuums that drive around your house, cleaning and plotting to kill all humans. It's kind of fun to play with. Although I've discovered another use for it. Namely, getting the cat out from under the bed. Just turn it on and point it under the bed. The cat will emerge moving just slightly under 40 miles per hour.

It beats the hell out of slithering around on the floor, and it helps reduce the dust bunnies.

Experiments

I like to do little scientific experiments. For example, I bought these gel crystals (At Luminations. They were on clearance). They look like aquarium sand, but when you get them wet, they grow into big squishy gel crystals. I've been attempting to grow them bigger and bigger. So far I've managed to hit golf ball size. I'm trying to come up with a way to condense, combine, and restart the crystallization process. But I digress. Mrs. Manion, however, would like me to remove my lab and test subjects from the guest bathroom. I bet Watson and Crick didn't have their wives demand that they remove all the squishy pulsating blue things from their bathrooms. At this rate it will be weeks before I have an army of sentient, blue (and somewhat squishy) crystal warriors doing my evil bidding.

LM

The Best Revenge

2006-02-22T17:46:00.000-05:00

I was at a meeting this morning. In it, one of the Penetrode bigwigs was waxing nostalgic about getting fired from one of his early jobs. He later went on to great success and wealth, while the company that fired him went under.

He closed by saying "Indeed, living well is the best revenge."

Despite an earlier warning from HR, I decided to raise my hand. "You have a question?" he asked me.

"Yes. I've given a great deal of thought to the topic of revenge, and I was wondering. What about suspending your enemy upside down in a pit full of diseased ticks? Isn't that really the best revenge?"

For what it's worth, I've been thinking about ticks as a method of revenge ever since the Manion family Christmas miracle of 2005.

Then there was one of those lengthy silences that indicates that I've shared a little too much.

"Manion, isn't it?" he asked.

I nodded.

There was another lengthy pause.

Finally, the bigwig answered my question. "Ticks are certainly a novel choice as far as revenge goes. The idea, however, is that by forcing your target - your revengee, if you will - to watch you "live the good life," you're providing a more enduring, and also more legal, form of revenge."

"You raise a valid point," I conceded. "Why don't we compromise? How about we change the saying to 'Living well while forcing your enemy to watch you while suspended upside down in a pit filled with diseased ticks is the best revenge.'"

"Well, the purpose of this meeting wasn't really to debate modalities of revenge, Mr. Manion."

"Well, if that's not the purpose of this meeting, then why did you bring it up?"

"I was merely trying to underscore the idea that sometimes a new idea can prevail against the conventional wisdom."

"And isn't that exactly what I'm trying to do?" I asked. "The conventional wisdom talks about living well, but I think Penetrode is ready for something new. Something that pushes the envelope. And the pit full o'ticks, both diseased and regular, is where we need to be. Penetrode could be leading the world in revenge methodology, but instead we're stuck in the past, with this whole "living well" garbage. Talk about behind the times! I say we invest immediately in ticks, and put our R&D department to work on the latest pit digging advances."

At that point, the bigwig's eyes took on that terrified expression that often appears on the faces of those who talk to me for more than thirty seconds. "Yes. Yes, why don't we do that," he said, edging towards the door. "Security will be by shortly to help you flesh out the details."

Strangely, security wanted to discuss the details outside, while handing me the contents of my cube in a plastic bag....

LM