10. I suppose, when asked by a potential employer if I have a criminal record, “Highest number of robberies in an hour” isn’t an appropriate answer.

9. I don’t mind going to work, but it’s the eight hours waiting to go home that annoy me.

8. My boss just put me in charge of obeying him.

7. I wish some of my co-workers weren’t allowed in the break room, because that’s usually who I need a break from.

6. We will continue having meetings every day until I find out why no work is getting done.

5. At work I was running around like a madman: naked, with a chainsaw.

4. Why would I work through lunch, when I don’t even work through work?

3. My boss needs to stop holding secret meetings about my paranoia.

2. Why does my work week always go: MONDAY–TUESDAY–WEDNESDAY–THURSDAY–blink–MONDAY–TUESDAY–WEDNESDAY–THURSDAY–blink?

1. I’ve been sacked from my job, or as I prefer to think of it, I’m on eternity leave.
 

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10. Sidewalk Santa

9. Donald Trump’s communications director

8. Assistant in charge of slathering Chris Christie with tanning lotion

7. Public pool pee monitor

6. Bulletproof vest tester

5. Amish IT guy

4. Door-to-door fidget spinner salesman

3. Suicide bomber

2. Second assistant in charge of slathering Chris Christie with tanning lotion

1. Donald Trump Jr.’s defense attorney
 

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10. Hillary Clinton’s IT guy

9. Duck Dynasty beard de-tangler

8. Republican fact checker

7. Amish air conditioner repairman

6. Roger Ailes’s lotion boy

5. Apprentice crackwhore

4. Public pool pee monitor

3. Suicide bomber

2. Hooker at Comic-Con 2016

1. Donald Trump’s PR guy
 

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10. I was a trampoline salesman… off and on.

9. I worked as half a horse at Disneyland, but quit while I was a head

8. I was a trapeze artist…but I was let go.

7. They wouldn’t believe that I wasn’t a thief when I was working as a school crossing guard – but all the signs were there

6. I worked in produce, which wasn’t exactly rocket salad

5. I tried being a mime…but now I can talk about it…
(Ever since my best friend became a mime, I haven’t heard from him)

3. I manufactured clown shoes…which was no small feat

2. I had to quit my job at the helium gas factory – I refuse to be spoken to in that tone!

1. I sold loose onions – until I got the sack

I’m not sure why I never got that job at Microsoft – they never answered my telegram
 

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10. Amish air conditioner repairman

9. Mel Gibson’s image consultant

8. The guy who collects the souls of young boys and feeds them to the Koch brothers

7. Bill Cosby’s pharmacist

6. Public pool pee monitor

5. Donald Trump’s stylist

4. Apprentice crackwhore

3. Chris Christie’s lotion boy

2. Bulletproof vest tester

1. Speaker of the House of Representatives
 

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Today was a singularly beautiful day in New York – a sparkling October day in mid-November, sunny, warm, a light breeze – and perfect for a two-hour walk  around the Drive in Central Park. (I used to run it in under an hour, but what the hell.) [Read more →]

Tags: all work, books & writing, ends & odd, getting older by Jeff Scheuer
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10. Bingo caller

9. Mansion sitter

8. French fry salesman outside Chris Christie’s house

7. Spa reviewer

6. Adam Sandler’s acting coach

5. Utah bartender

4. Cheese shop toilet repairman

3. Whatever the hell it is Vanna White does

2. Wading pool lifeguard

1. Anthony Weiner’s acceptance speech writer
 

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10. Edward Snowden’s travel agent

9. Print journalist

8. Door-to-door Furby salesman

7. NBC advertising salesman

6. Donald Trump’s ego wrangler

5. Amish refrigerator repairman

4. Public pool pee monitor

3. Chris Christie’s lotion boy

2. Mall Santa

1. Paula Deen’s image consultant
 

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I don’t even know where to start with this one, so I won’t, other than saying maybe it’s actually genius in the way they’re going for the must-watch-car-crash factor.

It’s fun to let kids get involved in design.

Tags: all work, ends & odd by Andrew Turner
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In the years before I’d gotten the job, my dad would describe it as the golf mecca. The Pro Shop was the first to stock the newest, name-brand clubs; the greens on the executive course always rolled true and stayed soft through November; and every few months, management would replace the grungy, cracked range balls with a new shipment of pearls. Even the name was refreshing: Somerton Springs Golf Center of Feasterville, Pennsylvania.

One night, years later, my old man told me over dinner that he’d spoken to management and set up a job for me. He was my hero. I imagined the negotiation: He’s escorted into some back room with one light where a bearded Greek man sits alone at a corner table, shrouded in shadow. My dad throws down a briefcase packed with unmarked, non-consecutive hundreds. My son gets this job, he says. The Greek opens the case and thumbs through a stack of bills. He nods, approvingly. My dad nods back. [Exeunt.]

[Read more →]

Tags: all work, creative writing by Ian Micir
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 7N: Like anyone else, the Emperor has need of an occasional conversion cord or of a particular plug-doohickey in order to connect  his laptop to the TV or something. For that, he usually goes to Radio Shack. But, after years of this, he has decided to stop dumping riches from the royal coffers into that establishment. The reason? They hire turds. Arrogant turds; rude turds; insecure turds; turds who are so eager for actual human contact that they will attempt to prolong said contact even if it means starting an argument from word one — or, perhaps, especially if it means that.

Case in point: “Hi,” says the Emperor, merrily, “I have this Dell laptop…” “Well,” interrupts the Radio Shack turd, in exactly the same voice as the comic book store guy on The Simpsons,  “that’s your first problem. Harharhar.” Many incidents such as this have occurred, but the ever-lovin’ topper was the Emperor’s last visit, yesterday, at the end of a long quest for a cord with which to send a signal from VGA output into an RCA video input, during which visit  the Radio Shack turd studied his iPhone as if it were a naked woman (which, I am sure, he will one day see in person — I mean, it has to happen everyone eventually, right?) never once making contact with the royal eyes. “No,” he said. “Go online. We don’t have that in stock.” [This last bit, said with an inflection he might have used if I had asked him for mint-chocolate-chip ice cream — as if only the most uninformed asshat on the planet could possibly think they would carry such an item.] Enough is enough. Management may no longer hire these antisocial turds. We realize that a gig at Radio Shack is like being in Best Buy’s minor-leagues, but, nevertheless, standards must go up.

The Punishment: [Read more →]

Tags: all work, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. V-14: Owing to the convergence of two Internet events (first, the publishing of this article by esteemed WFTC columnist, Alan Spoll and, second, to a Facebook post by a friend of the Emperor’s —  name of Pete — in which said friend quoted Mark Twain as having written: “Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first”), along with the Emperor’s lifelong disgust with people who think they are entitled to success strictly by virtue of their “hard work,” your benevolent ruler hereby decrees: Your hard work means nothing. You are owed absolutely squateel for that hard work. Results matter. Your hard work is laudable, but it is not binding contract that guarantees your desired outcome. It is perfectly fair for you to work every day, all day, and then to lose the race or to not get the part in the play or whatever else you want. (Them’s, as they say, the breaks.) It is also fair for someone who works only half as hard as you to be chosen or to be promoted over you or to get the position that you desired. (That’s called “superior talent”; or, perhaps, superior conniving.) You cannot do anything you put your mind to. The world is not a grade school character-education class or a high school locker room. The world is a place in which great people make their way without excuses for their failures.

The Punishment: Anyone heard, by the Imperial spies, as having said, “It’s not fair [sob, sob, sniff]…I worked so hard” will be sentenced to death. The accused will be placed in a wicker cage and he will be allowed to slowly claw his way out. (This will take a lot of hard work.) The Imperial Executioner will be in the room, lounging on a pile of cushions, clad in silk pyjamas and having his feet rubbed by comely, hard-working servants. When the prisoner finally emerges, the Executioner will yawn, return his attention to a book, reach out, absently, and gun down the accused with machine gun fire.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: all work, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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10. Mitt Romney’s joke writer

9. Gay wedding planner in North Carolina

8. Amish air conditioner repairman

7. Bulletproof vest tester

6. Mall Santa

5. Public pool pee monitor

4. J.P. Morgan’s Chief Investment Officer

3. Secret Service prostitute

2. Chris Christie’s lotion boy

1. Underwear bomber
 

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All the best plots are stolen, and all the best snots are, too. I should know. I was the attendant of our town’s
stone nose. Night and day, I guarded the golden snot. It was honest work and lousy pay, easy work at a steady rate. I stood by the nose and protected the snot. From the left nostril, it hung, its golden green gleaming under warm sunny rays.

My job was simple. Only the lawful could essay a picking. The frauds were forbidden, you know, those without
papers—usurpers, outsiders, weaklings, and thieves. But the lawful had documents in order, and so by the thousands, they waited in line, and one by one, I allowed them a plucking. Easy, no? [Read more →]

Tags: all work, creative writing by Alex Kudera
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From Change we can believe in to It was like that when I got here. It’s not so great a leap, really. Who thought the ocean’s level was rising disastrously in June of 2008? Who believed that Obama’s seeing off the Hillary juggernaut would stop it? No one and no one. We have simply gone from optimistic nonsense to a fatalistic nonsense. Now, instead of a Bright New Tomorrow we are offered a Bleak Repetitive Today.

If you’re willing to put in the work, the idea is that you should be able to raise a family and own a home; not go bankrupt because you got sick, because you’ve got some health insurance that helps you deal with those difficult times; that you can send your kids to college; that you can put some money away for retirement.

Tags: all work, health & medical, money, politics & government by Ken Watson
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I’ve been away, dear reader, for quite some time. I’ve been busy driving a child to and from preschool, making Target runs, finding my spiritual center on Oprah’s Lifeclass (the first lesson taught us about the false power of ego), watching The Bachelor and Bachelor Pad (it takes three hours to watch that show every Monday night — that keeps a girl busy!), and wondering how I can avoid cooking the Thanksgiving Day turkey. [Read more →]

Tags: all work, family & parenting by Nancy DeGregorio
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There was a very sadly missed opportunity not long ago. It was a brief flash of insight from Administration PR man Jay Carney. Don’t worry, it didn’t last and has not been repeated but somewhere deep in the mind of this poor confused fellow he discovered a simple fact and, intentionally or not, exposed it to a gaping press. “Well, the White House doesn’t create jobs. The government together — White House, Congress — creates policies that allow for greater job creation.” What possessed Mr. Carney to publicly rubbish the fundamental Creation Myth on which sits the whole contraption of Obamaism? There must have been a demonic home-invasion in his little skull, invisible to video or audio but perhaps if we slow it way down and turn it way up we will see the ghost of Milton Friedman dashing in his one eye, speaking his piece and then fleeing through the other. Either that or Jay stumbled on a bit of good sense accidentally, which happens, but then quickly throttled it in its infancy, which also happens. [Read more →]

Tags: all work, politics & government by Ken Watson
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10. Anthony Weiner’s image consultant

9. Parka salesman

8. Suicide bomber

7. Amish air conditioner repairman

6. Lindsay Lohan’s bail bondsman

5. Apprentice crackwhore

4. Public pool pee monitor

3. Chris Christie’s lotion boy

2. Shark bait

1. What, people still have jobs?
 

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10. Instead of giving you a chair, he makes you squat

9. He insists that you think of him as “Your boss…with benefits”

8. Your healthcare plan is a box of bandaids

7. “Casual Friday” means he comes to work in his pajamas

6. You wish he were only “all hands”

5. Your “probationary period” is now in its sixteenth year

4. You have to submit your request to use the bathroom two days in advance

3. The closest thing you’ve had to a promotion is when they doubled your lunch break to ten minutes

2. He greets you every morning with the phrase, “Do you still work here?!”

1. He insists on paying you in Cheetos
 

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“Work,” Noël Coward once said, “is so much more fun than fun.”

Thomas Aquinas would have agreed. “Agere sequitur esse,” he declared. Action follows from being. You are as you do.

I also agree, especially now that I have returned to work (last week, I started a part-time, presumably temporary gig at the Philadelphia Inquirer). [Read more →]

Tags: all work, that's what he said, by Frank Wilson by Frank Wilson
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