Why I Oughtta! - Senator

G'day mate, Ah we in England? Just kidding, blogging from the misery that is a low income town in a crumby production building in Northern Jersey, the Embroidery Capital of the World. As you can already tell, this is a dude's blog for a real dude's dude, chya know? What I can bring to the table is a taste of culture, cuisine, and possibly even a story from my troubled childhood that could make even Dirty Harry crack a smile. Born and raised in the mean streets of a coastal town about 20 minutes north of "The Hub" my sporting affinity goes to the red and blue of Red Sox and Patriots as well as the Celts and Bruins. I won't get too much into the MLS right now but go Revs while I have your attention. Oftentimes I find my love of sports being questioned, but fear not sports fans, I love the stuff. Can't get enough of it. Why do you think I wear under armor under my shirt and tie to work or midrange athletic socks with my loafers? Okay Einstein, I will tell you, it's so I can get my swell on right after because I'm always wondering what I can do to make myself the ultimate threat on any sporting platform. Therefore, I am constantly pouring muscle milk in my Special K and working on my agility by torturing myself with plyometrics (spelling? - F it). But anywho, I am sure I could bore you with trivial facts from the 2004 World Series or 2003 NCAA Basketball Championship, but what good would that do? Instead, like have already said and will continue to say, I want to broaden everyone's horizons as to mold this audience into a more well-rounded lover of sports and the high life. My blogsperience dates back to Spring 2008 when I started my own sports blog. However, after realizing that I had a much larger responsibility to myself and my peers, I felt the need to stretch the boundaries of said blog to encapsulate all that I love and know in this world - pretty much everything. That's why I am sometimes referred to as the All-Knowing-Ass (that never happened). However, I did find $5 on the ground. So, I said I could give a funny story so I will and I hope you enjoy it. If you do not enjoy it, so be it and good riddance. If you do enjoy it then you can answer the question of, "Who Shotchya," with --> The Senator Did and It Really Hurt.

My Life As A Character On the Office

If you don't know what the Office is, go F yaself. Everyone else, gather round while Uncle Greg tells you a story of triumph, adversity, and success. I recently started a sales gig at a non-profit agency in a Northern New Jersey ghetto and try to get towns to contract janitorial, security, and recycling work with us. However, this is no easy task and there are a lot of political issues that need to be considered. Bad thing for me, I don't read, I hate politics, and couldn't care less about the greater good because C.R.E.A.M. Yet, it's not the coffee or 5-hour energy shots that get me up everyday and excited for work, nor is it the 1000 crunches I do to boost my metabolism. The driving factor besides my bruised Corolla that brings me to "The Center" is the amazing people with whom I am fortunate to interact.

1. Baby Ruth - dark chocolate exterior and short in stature (just shy of my waistline). I used to share an office with her before I feared getting my knee-caps bitten off. She is ridiculous, has corn-rows, tig ole bitties, and wears "normal people" coats as a long trench coat for her vertically challenged self. One day a job coach was walking by and asked, "where's Ruthy?" To my dismay, I silently nodded my head to my left and tried to do everything humanly possible to not laugh..."Oh, I didn't see you there!" Seriously Joe? A little un-PC, but what a moment it was for everyone. Because I was still being orientated to the organization, it hit me harder than it did my supervisors. INCIDENT 2 - Baby Ruth was out sick and payroll needed to get finished. Her nimble hands are no match for automated payroll and we really needed her so a contract manager said he would pick her up. I overheard the last bit of the conversation because I did not want to seem rude and get caught eavesdropping. It went like this, "Aight, just hold up a flag so I know it's you!" Please, a little discretion next time so I don't have an ulcer from laughing so hard, Thanks.

2. The IT guy - this is me. I am a 22 year old recent college graduate. The closest person to me in age in my business sector is 55. Needless to say, I find myself trying to fit in a little too hard and say such catch phrases as, "It'll be a gas" or "You're just a chip off the old block." Anywho, one day the Vice President asked of me to make a table on Word for him. Let's be serious, it was lunch time and my stomach was grumbling so I had to go but I said I would have it done for him later that day. Within an hour I had made a pretty sweet organizational chart and corresponding table of values. He loved it, let's be serious. I thought that would be the end of my techonological responsiblities at "the center" for a while. However, he boasted and bragged about my attention to detail, the italics, the bold, the cell widths...before 3pm I had been dubbed the IT guy for my great skills with MS Office. Okay, I have a nickname, it's not "Ace" or "Puke" but I'll take it and maybe with his old age, he'll forget. Well, at a county presentation later that night, the mayor's powerpoint went to shit and there was a lot of dead air. Well, the VP sitting next to me made it a point to nudge me with his elbow, point his finger above my head to signal to everyone, "We should've had the IT guy take care of this." Embarrassed, No. Delighted, meh. But seriously, it's fucking MS Word, get used to it.

3. The Other Small Person - I'm not sure his name or where he comes from, BUT, there is another midget where I work. Everyday at 8:30 AM (I show up right on time just so I can get a glimpse of this) this blind man who stands not taller than a yardstick hops each of the 38 steps to the office area upstairs. There is an elevator but he is just so independent and needs a good quad workout that he hops the steps one-by-one and then moves onto his below-minimum-wage-paying job as a production worker. The kicker though comes at 3 PM everyday when he repells down the aforementioned 38 steps. One by one, there is a thud...thud...thud...Well, you get the picture. The first day I heard the pounding of human flesh (that sounded dirty) down the stairs I had to casually see what was happening. Sure enough, the same little guy was bouncing down each individual step on his rear-end and boy was I impressed.

Well, that is just a small taste of a regular Tuesday afternoon for this guy. There will be more to come every now and again to share a story or my take on life as I see it. Thanks for listening.