I’m Conducting Business Like A CEO – (Working From Home, Part 1)

After spending my entire business career in an office environment, I recently changed jobs and became a “telecommuter”.  Of course this is a misnomer, because in the digital age you can work from home and spend very little time actually on the telephone.

This obviously was a big change and I was worried about being “unconnected” and isolated.  Well I am definitely not unconnected; in fact I am over connected. I have my own “command center”.  I can now receive calls on three phones (business, home and cell), do FaceTime, and receive e-mails on two accounts. I fear the day when all three phones ring, I get “FaceTimed” and important e-mails arrive all at the same time.  I think trying to decide which one to answer first would throw me into “digital shock” which I doubt is covered by Obamacare.

The challenge is to make your home office seem as much like a real office as possible.  You need to do this so that you never realize you are actually at home.  If that ever happens, you will end up on the couch in your pajamas, eating Cheetos and watching ESPN all day.

There are major benefits to working at home.  Take the ten-step commute from the bedroom to the office chair.  Now on some days this can take longer if the doors are closed or if there is stuff on the floor I have to walk around.  In addition, it is great to have a private bathroom at work.  At three previous employers, the CEO had a private bathroom off their office.  One time during a meeting, I actually got to take a whizz in the executive toilet. It is one of the highlights of my business career.  And now I have an executive bathroom of my own where I can conduct my business in executive comfort, just like a CEO!  At my old job, my co-workers always complained about that “guy” who always stunk up the bathroom.  Well now I think they were full of it.  My bathroom at home smells just like the bathroom did at work, so I think that’s just how bathrooms are supposed to smell.

People think you can become dull and boring if you work at home, but nothing is further from the truth.  In fact I have become much smarter since I changed jobs.  As soon as I started working from home, my fantasy football team was virtually unbeatable.  I won the league and this was my first year of playing fantasy football ever!  Yes I am pretty smart. It was finding that rookie seventh-round draft-pick out of the Mississippi School for the Blind that won me the title (and the cash).

I am also much more popular since I started working at home.  My number of Facebook friends has doubled.  This includes Maya the young Filipino stripper who is trying to raise enough money to come to America to marry a wealthy businessman.  And Maya thinks I’m cute!  Hooyah!

Sometimes it is difficult to simulate a normal office environment.  For example, it is difficult to have “casual” Fridays when you are working in “sweats” all week.   I solved that problem by instituting “Pant-less Fridays”.  This was going swimmingly until the female UPS driver showed up one Friday with a delivery.  Now it could have been worse, not all of my neighbors heard the scream and nobody called the police.  Let’s just say I was happier to see her package than she was to see mine.

She was very happy - Before she opened the door!

And then on another Friday I was “FaceTiming” with our administrative assistant (who is based in Kentucky) when I had to stand up to reach some files.  You know I really have a problem with Apple calling something “FaceTime” when in reality people can see more than just your face.  I mean, who knew? That is just plain wrong.  I am just glad sexual harassment laws do not extend across state lines.

So I replaced “Pant-less Fridays” with “Underwear Optional Fridays”, which allows me to go commando in my command center.  Before you get too grossed out, I have yet to “exercise my option”.  But it’s nice to have the choice.

Next Time: Part 2 – My new assistant needs some business training 

These Blowhards Are Playing The Wrong Tune

I saw a headline in the newspaper that said three flautists had recently performed at the local library. I am enraged and disgusted by this.

To have an event where people show up and flaunt their accomplishments is just plain wrong.  There are too many people, with too big of egos, touting their accomplishments everywhere you look.  To hold an event that encourages this is a sad, sad, commentary on our society.

And you hold this at a library?  People go to a library to read or study in quiet, not to be interrupted by some blowhards bloviating about their skills and awards.  To make it even worse, a photograph accompanying the article shows one of the flautists actually playing a flute.  Okay, so the guy must be flaunting his music ability before he tells everyone just how great he is.  But to disturb the serenity of the library by literally tooting your own flute is

C'mon man, quit flauting it!

disgusting.  Why don’t you spend your time trying to give something back to the community instead of yack, yack, yacking about how great you are?  Okay, I get it.  You are a great flute player, but please show some humility.

This boastful arrogance is way out of control.  Witness the outrageous rant by the Seattle Seahawk jerk after they won the NFC championship. Hey buddy, you won the game.  You are supposed to be happy, not fizzed off.  And there is no need to tell us how good you are.  We watched the game, we saw the play.  This rant made him look like a moron, but the worst thing about it is that he upset Erin Andrews.  My strong belief is that no one should ever upset Erin Andrews.  If I was ever near Erin Andrews, I would never, ever, upset her, unless of course, I asked her out on a date.  Then she might get upset that I was bothering her.  But even if she got upset, she would not be nearly as upset as my wife would be, but I digress.

This egomania has saturated our politicians also.  We have a President who is very self-absorbed and can’t speak a sentence without including the words “I” “me” or “my”. He even thinks I care about his college basketball tournament picks every year.  Hey Prez, instead of trying to pick a bracket winner, how about picking a winning plan that will get people back to work?

We also have some governors who think they can push people around because they are larger than life.  Okay so maybe the guy is slightly larger than life, but that doesn’t mean his ego has to be just as fat.  But with that combination, never, ever, cut in front of him at the buffet.  It might be the last thing you ever do. 

But probably the biggest bloviators are those pompous whack jobs who write “personal” blogs.  They go on and on about the most mundane and insipid things. Then they post it proudly on the worldwide web thinking that their musings with generate significant global interest. Guess what blogheads? The people in Bangladesh have better things to do with their iPads.  Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!  Whether it is what type of underwear they like, or if they buy a new pair of sunglasses, or worse yet, if some petty thing upsets them.  Yes, they are the most egregious egotists of all. Don’t you think?

I See Dead People and I Hear Miniature Monks

2014 has just begun and already I’m confused.  Here are some things I can’t figure out so far:

Noises From My Refrigerator

I am now hearing what sounds like Gregorian chants emanating from my new refrigerator.  I have no idea how miniature Gregorian monks got inside my Frigidaire, but they are in there and they are chanting up a storm! Now don’t be alarmed.  I am not hearing voices in my head; I am hearing voices, chanting, melodic, voices, in my fridge.  I don’t hear voices in my head; other people may hear my voice in their heads, which include former teachers, former students, former bosses and even former girlfriends.   Unfortunately, all those people have some significant mental disorders which I have absolutely nothing to do with.

I assume these miniature refrigerator monks have to chant to keep warm inside the fridge.  We know from numerous television commercials that strange things happen when the refrigerator door is closed including various food products that speak perfect English.  I have quickly opened the door hoping to catch those monks in mid chant, but they are evidently too fast for me.  So far this is a just a mild irritation.  However, if those monks get hungry and eat the ham sammich that my woman made for me, then I will have to take serious action and call the Orkin Man who I assume can exterminate miniature chanting monks. 

Hey, Monks! - Get outta my fridge!

My other option is to try to record the chants and make some money.  I’m sure the CD “Monks Chanting Inside Don’s Refrigerator” would be a big seller.

My Deodorant Stinks

Recently I noticed my body odor getting worse.  This alarmed me because my hygiene practices had not changed and I was concerned that I had a health issue.  I then realized that I was using a new body wash that I had bought at an outlet store for a very cheap price.  Yes it was inexpensive, but it was a former private label brand from a major drug chain.  So what if it was cheap and discontinued, soap is soap, right?

The body wash was labeled “Fresh Scent” but I really didn’t know what the scent was because as soon as a worked up a sweat all I smelled was “me”.  So one day I gave myself a big sniff right after showering.  And that’s when I discovered that the body wash smelled like body odor.  Instead of preventing body odor, it gave me body odor.  In effect it wasn’t a deodorant soap, but an “odorant” soap.  I didn’t stink, my soap did!

So this product was providing the exact opposite of what it was intended to do. How does something like this even happen? I suspect a disgruntled employee in the soap factory decided to “stick it to the man”.  “You want fresh; I’ll give you fresh alright!”  And now I smell better before I shower, than afterward.

I’m Not Taking Health Advice From A Living Karkus

There is a healthcare product being advertised on television by someone named Ted Karkus.  This is very disturbing because I am not going to take any health advice from what is literally a walking, talking Karkus.  I’m afraid if I use this product, I could end up a Karkus, just like Ted! Karkus seems enthusiastic, but he is “dead man walking” in my book.  

He may be a happy Karkus, but he is still a Karkus.  I will try mystical Chinese wonder pills that make me irresistible to large Chinese women, before I buy any product from Mr. Ted (walking death) Karkus.  Why would any healthcare company have a Karkus for its spokesperson?  I am so, so, confused.

Bigger Butts Lead To Better Blogs

I blogged about a wide variety of subjects in 2013, but by far the most popular post was “TheseButts Are Big And I Cannot Lie” which took a humorous look at black market butt enhancement surgery.  At first the readership of this post was about average, but then after about three weeks the post started getting over 200 hits each day.

Of course I thought this was because people had finally discovered my spectacular blogging ability and started sharing and reposting this superb literary work.  But then I realized the hits were the result of the post showing up very high on Google searches.  It had inadvertently achieved search engine optimization.

So now when people search for “big butts”, big a**, big black a** and other similar butt-related topics, they are directed to my blog post.  This is odd because the post is not sexually oriented.  Sure, there is a photo of a woman in a provocative pose, but she is fully clothed and it is more humorous than indecent.

But according to my blog statistics, many people are looking for big butts on the Internet.  And this demand for big butts is worldwide.  They love big butts in Germany.  And big butts are also surprisingly popular in Saudi Arabia, India and Morocco.  My butt blog also has even generated hits from Iran.

Of course I thought about the potential of “big-butt” blogging.  I considered starting a blog concentrating on nothing but large derrieres.  If big butts are that popular then someone needs to fill this void. I mean based on the German popularity: “It’s vat da people vawnt!”  But then I realized that exploiting this dalliance for big butts would be wrong.  It was at this point I made a vow to never, ever, write another blog post on the topic of big butts.  And I am determined to keep this vow no matter what.  You have my word on this.  And this includes not posting any other big butt photos in my blog, like the ones shown below, just for the purpose of generating a massive number of hits.

I thought this commotion about big butts was just about over when I received the following phone call:

Caller: May I speak to Mr. Ake’s Pains

Me: I guess that’s me

Caller:  Well this is Sir Mix-A-Lot.  Mr. Pains I hear your recent blog post has revived a world-wide interest in big butts and I was wondering if you would work with me to revive my career. Perhaps you have heard that I like big butts and I cannot lie.

Me: I may have heard that once or twice before, but I can’t help you. My blog was not about guys who like big butts, it was on guys who illegally create big butts. And I don’t really prefer women with big butts.

Mix-A-Lot:  Really Pains? You other brothers can't deny!

Me: But I have to deny

Mix-A-Lot: I think that is so wrong. I think you are practicing “big booty discrimination”

Me: For the record, I do not discriminate against women’s butts on the basis of size, age, race or national origin.  However, I do explicitly believe that the shape of the booty is more important than the size of the booty.

Mix-A-Lot: Come On Akes. Even white boys got to shout “baby got back!”  Admit it. You want a motor in the back of your Honda.

Me:  I still prefer shape over size.  And I’m afraid my Honda riding days are over, Sir.

Mix-A-Lot: But if you don’t help me, how am I going to jump start my career? I need your help.

Me: Okay, couldn’t I just pretend to like big butts?

Mix-A-Lot: Are you telling me you would say you like big butts and you could lie about it.

Me: Sure

(Click)

Don’t Fall For Pushy Women

Last July a woman in Montana shoved her newlywed husband off a cliff to his death.  This news surprised and shocked almost everyone.  Some people (mostly women) were sad for the woman because after finding her soul-mate, the lifetime commitment ended in just over a week.  Other people (mostly men) wondered how the guy could have made such a poor choice.  Now many guys are married to “pushy” women, but this one was bit “overly pushy”.

However there is one group of guys that was not surprised at all by this news item.  These are men who are married to a woman that experience (notice I didn’t say suffers because that would be sexist) Enhanced PMS, or EPMS.  I don’t think this is a medical term, but it should be.  While many people make jokes about PMS, EPMS is not a laughing matter.  EPMS can result in you being pushed off a high cliff to your death.  EPMS is similar to demon possession, but unfortunately a Catholic priest is no match for it.  You just have to wait for nature to literally run its course.

Enhanced PMS in action - time to shut up!

My guess is that pushy bride was experiencing EPMS when this unfortunate incident occurred.  Of course EPMS alone did not cause this tragedy, there has to be a “trigger”.  And of course by a trigger I am referring to the poor husband’s mouth.  He obviously said something that he no doubt regretted all the way down until he hit the ground.

Evolution has caused men in close relationships with EPMS women to adapt to survive. These men don’t say anything once the EPMS period (literally, again) starts. Unless of course he is supposed to say something and then you choose his words very carefully.  Sort of like your life depends on it, because of course, it does.

So you have to wonder what this poor guy’s last words were.  Here are some possibilities:

-         Wow, your butt really looks huge in those jeans.  Next time we fly, we may have to buy you an extra seat!

-         That sammich you made me today was horrible.  The bread was stale and it had too much catsup.  It was just awful, one of the worst I’ve ever had.  Next time I tell you to make me a sammich, I expect you to do much better.

-         Hey your sister is looking so smoking hot since she lost all that weight.  Maybe you should go on a diet.

-         You are spending way too much money on shoes and make-up.  How am I ever going to afford my boat when you keep wasting money on stupid crap?

-         I can’t believe how large your friend Becky’s breasts are.  They are huge!  Her husband sure is a lucky guy.

-         You really need to remember to put the toilet seat up after you finish.  I’m tired of putting the thing up every time I go in there.

-         Quit complaining!  You are starting to sound just like your mother and you know how big of a bitch she is.

-         Can you pick up these clothes I threw the floor!   I almost tripped and hurt myself.  I want this floor kept clean.

-         I know we were supposed to go out for a romantic dinner to celebrate the night we met, but the guys are having a very important fantasy football league meeting tonight at Hooters.  So just make yourself a sammich.

-         Do you really have to talk so much?   I going to have to buy me some of those noise cancellation headphones.

Now I don’t know how the trial will turn out, but if I was on the jury I would want to know if the woman was under the influence of EPMS and if so, what her husband said to set her off.  And if she was experiencing EPMS and her husband did say something stupid, I’m letting her walk.  Well, under one condition, that she is required to tell any future suitors on their first date exactly how her first husband died.  If you’re getting a pushy woman, better to know that up front.  

A Very Heartwarming Christmas Miracle Type Of Story

Gather round children.  (Okay, children shouldn’t be reading this) So gather round grown up children, your Uncle Don is going to tell you a heartwarming Christmas story that truly expresses the meaning of this glorious time of year.

Many years ago, one morning, just a week before Christmas, Uncle Don’s butthead boss called the whole marketing department together for an important announcement.  It seems the evil bean counters had completed next year’s budget and determined that in January, one person would have to be dismissed from the department.

You might wonder children, why oh why, would the boss announce this right before Christmas.  Why not just wait until January to deliver the news to the unfortunate individual and let everyone enjoy the holidays in peace? Well children, that’s why he was a butthead.  He was a big ‘ol stupid butthead who often just farted out random thoughts for no good reason.   You will find that many managers you encounter in your career are buttheads, with a big butt right where their brain should be.

After the workers were dismayed and scurried down the hall to discuss the situation.  They could not believe the company would do this because it was profitable and the department was overworked already.  Everyone was in agreement this was a bad, bad, thing.

And this was a strange occurrence because it caused Uncle Don and Val the Bitch to agree on something.  Val the Bitch and Uncle Don did not get along very well at all.  Val the Bitch hated Uncle Don and was threatened by his superior marketing skills and vast intellect.  Uncle Don hated Val the Bitch because she was a stupid, disgusting, mega-bitch with a horrible personality and no marketing skills whatsoever.

Her bitchy personality and lack of physical attractiveness resulted in her having serious problems in her social life.  Several times a year she would arrive at the office and announce loudly and enthusiastically, “Hey, I got lucky last night!” What that really meant children is: “Hey, I’m not such a disgusting bitch.  I had a boyfriend last night for 10 minutes!

Yes children, this behavior was typical of the disgusting, pathetic, existence of Val the Bitch. But don’t think that Uncle Don wasn’t sympathetic on these occasions.  He wondered just how desperate, lonely, drunk, insane or stoned a guy would have to be to actually copulate with Val the Bitch.  He hoped these unfortunate souls were not emotionally (or physically) scarred for life.  And most of all, Uncle Don hoped that they took a long, hot, shower using industrial grade soap as soon as they got home because it is difficult to wash that type of bitchiness off.

But now Uncle Don and Val the Bitch were suddenly on the same team, united in scorn of the butthead boss.  As the discussion wound down, somebody realized that the butthead boss had chosen to make his announcement a mere 90 minutes before he was taking the department out for our annual festive Christmas lunch.  What moronic timing!  That puts the butt in butthead.

“Merry Christmas” said someone sarcastically.

“Merry Frikin’ Christmas said Val the Bitch.

“Merry Frikin’ Christmas indeed”, exclaimed Uncle Don.

So the Christmas lunch was very awkward that year.  The Christmas joy had been sucked out of the employees, but the butthead boss was having a great time yucking it up, totally oblivious to the lack of enthusiasm of all the others.

After the meal, the butthead boast raised his glass in the air with great fervor and bellowed “Merry Christmas!”  Of course at that point everyone else thought in their heads, “Merry Frikin’ Christmas”.  Unfortunately your Uncle Don started to laugh at this thought and lowered his head so he would not fizz off the boss with this highly inappropriate outburst.

And it was at this moment something magical happened. Val the Bitch, who happened to be sitting next to Uncle Don, gave him a swift, hard, kick under the table.  This immediately snapped Uncle Don to his senses and he thrust his glass in the air and proclaimed: “Merry Christmas indeed!” With this, the Christmas luncheon and Uncle Don’s job was saved. It was a miracle children, it was a Christmas miracle!

And then in that restaurant, in that moment of Christmas merriment, Uncle Don realized that Val the Bitch was not really a bitch at all, but she was a valued co-worker, she was a real person, with real feelings and real issues and that she was trying to do the best with what she had.  And this children, is the miracle of Christmastime, when everyone puts away their grievances and learns to love their fellow man.  Where there is peace on Earth and goodwill to all men, which does include all the bitches and bastards in your life.

Merry Christmas Children and Happy Holidays from your Uncle Don

My Diet Plan Is Burning Me Out

Recently I noticed some alarming personal trends.  Several of my shirts no longer fit and I had to buy some new belts.  I wondered why my clothes dryer was suddenly shrinking my shirts and I suspected that a humidity change in the house was shortening my belts.

I guess I could be gaining weight, but I choose to employ the Eric Cartman (from South Park) defense. “I’m not fat, I’m big boned!” I told myself

repeatedly until one day after showering, I walked past the mirror.  “Whoa, what is that whale doing in my bedroom?”  I may be “big-boned” but those bones were now supporting a generous amount of fat.   My gut was certainly not displaying “six-pack abs”.  Yes, where the six-pack was supposed to be instead sat an enormous beer barrel.

I live in a culture of personal irresponsibility, so of course this weight gain is not my fault.  I blame it on “Cheez-Its”.  They now make Cheez-Its in 14 different flavors. This means you can eat a different flavor every day for  two entire weeks, which I feel a responsibility to do.  If they are going to make all these different Cheez-Its, then they expect someone to eat all of them and I am committed to pursuing this cause.  Somewhere in the Cheez-It factory is a single-mother, working to support her children, whose job depends on people consuming mass quantities of crackers. Therefore I am truly doing this “for the children”.

So in effect I have been on the Cheez-It diet.  Which meant that every time I thought about eating less and going on a real diet, I would just say “aw Cheez-It” and grab some more crackers.  My only concern is that my favorite Cheez-It flavor is “White Cheddar” and I hope my preference for white crackers does not make me a racist.

But when I was devouring all those Cheez-Its, I never thought about where they were going. And now I have 30 pounds of Cheez-Its stored in my gut.  So a real diet is in order.

The best weight reduction plan I found on the Internet was from Jason Sudekis who said in July that he was losing weight due to having frequent, vigorous, sex with his fiancé Olivia Wilde (really said it).  Now that’s a program

Part of the best diet plan ever!

I need to jump on.  But when I called to sign up for “The Wilde Sex Diet Plan”, I found out that Olivia is pregnant and after the birth there is a three-year waiting list for getting on the program.

So I decided to try a diet based on “fat burners”.  This seemed liked a perfect plan for me.  It’s much cheaper than Nutrisystem, although if I thought it would make Marie Osmond like me, I would write the check in an instance. But the best thing about using fat burners is that I can sit on my fat ass and the fat burners do all the work.  The fat just burns right off.

Of course on the first day I took double the suggested dosage of the fat burners because I’ve got a lot of fat to burn and I want it gone fast.  But I never even thought about where this “burned” fat would go.

I soon found out.  The fat burners resulted in frequent and vigorous movements.  Ironically in the Wilde Sex Diet there are no doubt frequent and vigorous movements, however they, no doubt, are much more pleasurable than the ones I experienced.   

It felt like I had flushed the 30 pounds from my system in one epic battle.  I was very disappointed to get on the scale and see a loss of only three pounds.  And I was also disappointed to find out that my septic system was gaining significant more weight than I was losing. 

The money I had saved by not buying the “packaged diet plan” was now being spent getting my septic system sucked.  “That’s one of the worst blockages I’ve ever seen”, exclaimed the septic guy. “And the strange thing is, it was orange!”