I Used To Be Bigger Than Jesus...Now I Don't Care
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Posted:Jan 20, 2009 6:16 pm
Last Updated:Aug 28, 2012 9:40 am
73738 Views
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A few of you have asked how I was doing so I figured in light of this momentous day of change (Some Obama guy on TV) I’d give you an update. The way I see me and this site…I’m pretty aware I’m like a washed up old rock star like you’d see on Vh1’s Where Are They Now?. “Atomic had it all”, they would say. “Fame, friends, women. With a writing style like no other he was on top of the world with a cult following of dedicated readers and enough online clout to slay dragons. Now the Winds of Change has left AtomicArtist in the dark. Cold. Lifeless. He hardly recognizes this site anymore. The Golden Age is long gone, he thinks. With no steady supply of “handcuffed naked to a dumpster” and “ass like a bag of wet clothes” jokes, his readership has diminished by half. He was last seen fat and alone eating fried chicken out of a dumpster behind Popeye’s. He wasn’t naked. Nor handcuffed. Just pathetic. This is the Day The Comedy Died. Next on VH1 we interview Eddie Money in his smoke filled studio apartment.”
Hah! Actually its not as dramatic as I suggest. The Winds of Change, as I say, were brought upon by myself. I chose to not hang out here although as of now, I’m still a paying gold member and was ever since day one. I guess I don’t miss the 17.95 a month. The magic just isn’t there for me anymore, dear readers…however many of you are left. Its rather freeing though. I’ve broken the chains that binded me here and let me say what a relief it is to not check on blogs everyday…to not get wrapped up in any drama…to not give a flying shit about my views, stats, comments, or whether or not I’m the top read in my state or region. Talking from experience…its pretty damned freeing not to care. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss lots of you…and for those who have kept in touch or have followed me to those other sites I spend more time on, I appreciate you more than you can ever know.
Speaking of other sites, I haven’t lost the online bug all together but rather I’ve redirected it elsewhere. You better believe I’ve quickly became a superstar there as it’s a better place to showcase my art, talent, humor, and interests with a larger audience of like-minded, intelligent individuals. Lets face it…few exceptions aside…this place as a whole lacks talent and intellect. No one there has faked their own death to garner sympathy and attention (that I know of). The place seems drama free and if I choose to take a break from lofty, creative pursuits to look at pics of boobs and wide open beaver shots (and I often do) I can still get that there…but those types are more on the fringe and not the main focus of the site. The other site has single-handedly gotten me/my writing/my art into countless other blogs and journals, a few magazines, some art gigs…and a bunch of other stuff. I’ve had a successful art opening at one gallery and another on the way. I was even flown out to Denmark, along with a team of world famous builders, to do top secret design work for my fave toy corporation. (You know the one!!) Oh yes…I have arrived! I’m also the co-founder of a wildly successful online group…one of the better known and coveted groups…at least in my strange circles anyway. I even have people all over the world (who are not you all) pining away for a certain first-of-the-month feature.  So you see, the other site clearly gets me a better return on my time/talent/social/Money investment so hopefully you can understand me not spending much time here. No hard feelings?
I’m keeping as creative and as snarky as ever. I’ve just been doing far less writing as before but no worries…once you get it you don’t lose the writing bug it just gets redirected. Someday I’ll find another place to hone that particular skill and when I do…look out! This is not as dreary as the VH1 Where Are They Now? scenario I stated earlier…I haven’t fallen from grace but rather I’m on the rise elsewhere. Should I choose to eat fried chicken out of a dumpster it’ll be for the hell of it and not out of desperation or depravity. (Cuz that’s what creative and snaky people do.)
Hah! I just remembered…I predicted this whole VH1 washed up scenario a long-ass time ago. Give it a read if ya want a good laugh. VH1 Behind The Blog Interview With AtomicArtist Its classic Atomic from when I was pretty new to the game. Its all about anus whitening…which is pretty important if you’re gonna show off those wide open beaver shots. Some of you could learn something from that old post. I’m just sayin’. Keep in touch. Find me if you know how. Cripes, I’m so easy to find these days! Peace out all y’all. And who’s still here anyway?
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Did Y'all Done Elect A Black Man While I Was In A Boozin' Stupor?
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Posted:Dec 4, 2008 4:08 pm
Last Updated:Aug 1, 2011 7:19 am
72714 Views
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By Donnie Ray Curtis
I’ll tell you what. When I git to drinkin’ I git to drinkin’ hard, whooooo doggy! What with my welfare money comin’ in regular I pretty much been hittin’ the Maker’s and moonshine real good since half past July. Yee-haaaaw!
But sometime last night I woked up in the parking lot outside of True Value hardware pert near six miles from my trailer with not the slightest recollect how I done got there or why my blue jeans were filled with apple sauce. I reckoned it was ‘bout that time to quit with the boozing’ and hunker down with some responsibilities just long enough to fix my leaky terlet whats on the fritz again and maybe git that mess cleaned up in the chicken coop. Then I realized…hey, ain’t it a-voting time again? Got to git on down to the town hall and vote for my boy McCain! He kicked some ass in Viet Nam, I’ll tell you what! I’m not to sure what to think of that Palin woman he’s got with him other than she’s got a purdy mouth on her. But you know what, if she’s good enough for McCain, she’s good enough for ol’ Donnie Ray! They both have good Christian values just like me so I reckoned what the heck! Why not have women folk in the White House, its 2007, right?
Then I call up my cousin Billy Jim and says lets git a-voting for good ol’ boy McCain and that Palin lady what with all the and purdy mouth and whatnot! I got to git me another one of them…economic incentive checks. I don’t know whats goin’ on in this world, but I do know my pickup needs new brakes, sparkplugs and maybe a big ol’ set of truck nuts to hang off the hitch!
Then Billy Jim says…Donnie Ray, you about as dumb as a bag of hammers, I’ll tell you what! Ain’t you heard the news? Them queers and colored folks what live in the big cities done stoled our votes this time and stoled them good! Gave it to that A-rab black fellah what we’ve seen in them vote McCain commercials. The one that ain’t right with Jesus and gonna take away our guns and whatnot.
Sometimes my thinking’ ain’t too good what with the boozing and the fact I ain’t finished junior high so it takes a bit for ol’ Donnie Ray to understand what Billy Jim done told me. Come again, Billy Jim! That black fellah? You mean the one what’s gonna git them good ol’ boys outta Iraq without winnin’ no war and force us to marry queers? Awwww heck, Billy Jim, how could this go so wrong? Ain’t you yankin’ my chain?
Hell no, he says. Times a-changing’ Donnie boy! That black fellah done won the election by a landslide, I’ll tell you what. And not only that, he done brainwashed a whole bunch o’ folks with that uppity fancy talk of his and took North Carolina, Nevada, Virginia, Colorado…shit, even Florida! This country’s lookin’ as blue as a virgin’s balls at a whorehouse! And guess what, folks was pleased as punch about it! All of them partying out in the streets naked with their boobies hangin’ out for God and everybody to see! There was grown men cryin’ out loud like little girls all over the country…heck, the world, Donnie Ray! Grown men cryin’ cuz they so happy ‘bout the vote, can you believe it?
Ain’t that some crazy shit, Billy Jim? What has this country come to when they let an A-rab like that in the white house? This place has gone to hell in a hand basket! I heard he was born in Illinois or Hawaii some country like that, shit he ain’t even born American! That’s what them commercials say. Fuck it, Billy Jim, just fuck it! I’m fixin’ to up and move south to Canada!
Oh and shit…what in the hell did I do last night?
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The Ups And Downs Of Kilt Ownership
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Posted:Sep 15, 2008 9:31 am
Last Updated:Mar 25, 2009 7:59 pm
71778 Views
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A new threat has cramped my style. No, I’m not talking about that Christian baby maker, Sarah Palin. I’m talking about my computer has bit the big one. Its acting like it has a virus but two separate scans didn’t reveal anything. Also, I’ve recently defraged (whatever that means), updated my virus protections and did all the other things the techno-nerds tell you to do. I still have like 75 or 80 percent memory capacity left on my hard drive yet its still acting slow and slurred…like David Hasselhoff on a huge bender. It takes about 15 minutes to get past the opening Windows XP screen, the icon that got me onto wireless internet totally disappeared…it shuts down every time I log onto the net, but I can jerry rig it to get on dial up for a few minutes before my computer realizes I’ve tricked it into logging on. (I’m surprisingly good at jerry rigging stuff to work for five minutes.)
Needless to say, I gotta take my compy into a shop and hope some egghead that’s smarter than me can get the thing fixed for a reasonable price. Or I have to get it replaced…which I hope for the sake of my wallet won’t be the case. I also hope this problem doesn’t last too long…otherwise I’d have to log in occasionally at the library. It turns out the library is more than just a place for homeless guys to snore like a sonofabitch and make a BM…you can also use their computers there. But then you have to subject yourself to sitting next to all the other chumps who don’t have computers…mostly people in stained sweatpants, schizophrenics, and recovering alcoholics. Oh, you can borrow books from the library, too. That’s kinda cool, I guess.
The good news is my birthday is coming up in a couple of days and Ruby Red bought me a black Utilikilt. She says I look pretty fucking hot in it…and while wearing it, I feel surprisingly badass for a guy in a skirt. Yeah, seriously…there’s just something about it that makes me feel tougher than usual…like I can get into a good ol’ Scottish bar brawl and come out of it relatively unscathed.
I’ve already come up with some good canned jokes for it as well. Like when someone asks what I’m wearing under the kilt, in my best Scottish accent I respond…Your Mother’s lipstick! That usually goes over well. It turns out the Utilikilt is a great thing to have for a letch like me. I can already tell there is going to be a lot of groping…and for once none of it initiated by me. I know some saucy broads are gonna just reach right up there and the ol’ rump a good squeeze. Maybe they’ll even tug the honker. And who am I to complain, really? I see a lot of possibilities for the kilt. I can wear it to the library while I download MILF porn with all the other computer-less freaks. I wonder if that’s how I got the virus in the first place?
Anyway…on top of not spending much time on this fine site my compy is also pretty much incapacitated. So if you’re trying to chat it up with me or I don’t get around to responding to your comments…that is why. Its not that I’m ignoring ya on purpose, that’s for sure. If you’re craving all things Atomic and wanna know how I’m getting along just dial my seven digits if you got ‘em. I’ll be happy to hear from a bunch of saucy broads like you. You dudes too…why not!
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Another Crass Horoscopes You Untalented Hacks
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Posted:Sep 1, 2008 4:20 pm
Last Updated:May 7, 2013 1:59 pm
74313 Views
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Just when I was tapped for ideas and ready to retire this whole crass horoscope thing, MissAnnThrope once again dons the paper trainee hat and pulls through with a few good ideas. We had got our sinister heads together and our affinity for causing verbal harm and came up with an all new edition of the crass horoscopes. We’ve got to get our heads together more often, MissAnn and I. Turns out we work well together. Plus she makes me seem…tall. Yeah…its true. That chick is like a cuddly little ewok until she jams her sharpened stiletto heel into your temple and calls you her bitch. Then who’s the one begging for more lube? Huh? Anyway…comment here and MissAnn and I will come back with your very own (possibly recycled but maybe not) reading as soon as we’re both unchained from the dumpster. Long story. Don’t ask. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.
Aries March 21-April 20 You’ve made it your goal to date a cougar but you’ll find the sex to be not what you had expected when they discover your body mauled at the zoo.
Taurus April 21-May 21 They say that a little hard work and perseverance never killed anyone, but you and your trusty knife are about to prove them wrong.
Gemini May 22-June 21 While he was nice enough to pay for drinks, dinner and the movie it is you who will ultimately pay for this weekend's date.
Cancer June 22-July 23 You’ll be played as a pawn in a game of love, deception and intrigue…which is unfortunate for you as you’d rather be one of them jumping horsey guys.
Leo July 24-August 23 After years of meditating on the quon, you’ll learn what is the sound of one hand clapping when you get yours caught in a thresher.
Virgo August 24-September 23 The cordon bleu may be a tad too insipid and the wine may be a bit audacious for your seasoned palate but as last meals go you could have done worse.
Libra September 24-October 23 Turns out it's neither the heat nor the humidity, but rather the spicy enchiladas that will cause all the sweating.
Scorpio October 24-November 22 You didn't get into plumbing for the fame, the fortune, or the women. But one severely backed-up toilet will soon change all of that.
Sagittarius November 23-December 21 The memories of your first masturbation session will come flooding back this month, when your mother, your brother, the mail man, some meter reader guy and the Midland High School marching band come barging into your living room unexpected.
Capricorn December 22- January 20 Your life long wish to be regarded as hot will be finally granted, when the EPA deems your property a Super Fund Site and you discover you glow radioactive green.
Aquarius January 21- February 19 Its usually not like you to be swayed by bribes but the $600 Economic Stimulus check will prove to be enough for you and millions of other morons just like you to vote Republican again.
Pisces February 20-March 20 A few wrong turns and your unwillingness to ask directions will lead you, twelve other guys and a gay parade float through some very unfriendly neighborhoods.
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So You Think You're Funny? ...How'd You Like To Work For Me?
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Posted:Aug 21, 2008 1:46 pm
Last Updated:Apr 11, 2009 1:44 pm
71501 Views
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In June of ‘05 I had an inkling in my head that I’d start a blog on one of them there sex sites and maybe meet some hunnies and get laid occasionally. Even back then when I was just emerging from the primordial ooze, I knew I wanted to do something outrageous…something special…something like you wouldn’t read anywhere else. I already had a kick in the ribs sense of humor, a unique outlook on life and an uncanny way with words so I started my very first post…with the crass horoscopes.
The horoscopes…and the rest of my blog quickly became a hit and ever since, I’ve started nearly every month with what turned out to be Blogland’s only…and longest lasting monthly feature. Even with recycling readings…and there have been a lot of recycled horoscopes…all told I have scripted over a thousand original short, snappy, insulting little jokes written in future tense and disguised as your personal forecast. Some, I’ve been told have rung a bit too true to life even as weird and absurd as I tried to make them.
It turns out people really enjoy being insulted by me. I know…who would have thunk it? You women and men alike have stated that you’ve been giddy with anticipation…like a on Christmas morning…just waiting for me to gently grab you by the hair and whisper into your ear that you’re going to wake up next to a dead midget or get molested by a chimpanzee sometime this week. You people love that! Hell, it kinda turns me on just thinking about it! I want to do that again with a gusto but let me tell ya, comedy…good comedy is hard. If my blog was once akin to grabbing you by the crotch and taking you on a wild roller coaster ride to hell, now with my infrequent posts, its safe to say its more like that disappointing horsey ride outside of Walmart…the one that you put a quarter into and it gently rocks you back and forth for like thirty seconds. Trust me, the whole experience is somehow made better if you’re drunk. And naked. And your friends are laughing and pointing at your wiener.
Sometimes this grizzled old wants to sit back with his hunnies and just let the whole crass horoscope franchise float away for good…but then I think of the alternatives. Some truly unfunny dimwit with their copy/pasted jokes would suddenly become the best thing around. They’ll masturbate every night with a shoehorn in a self congratulatory frenzy because not only are they popular because they show their tits occasionally, but they will also be deemed funny! And for the love of God, you know I can’t have that stewing on my conscience! Not to mention you , giddy for your crass horoscopes like on Christmas morning, will be sorely disappointed like…well…like you Jewish on Christmas morning. Yanno…the ones who have to go to the Chinese restaurant because it’s the only place open in town. Its never the good restaurants either…they’re always the places that smell like the inside of a prosthetic leg and give you fortune cookies after the meal that say…”That wasn’t chicken!”
The alternatives are disappointing as hell…and that’s why I’m coming to you for help. So you think you’re funny? Do you have a few good horoscope ideas stewing around in that noggin of yours? How’d you like to work for me then? Simply relay your horoscope ideas to me anyway you can…inbox, yoohoo IM, phone…whatever. Or let me know that you are maybe interested in writing some horoscopes and I’ll send you sort of an inspirational how-to-get-started packet in your inbox. Like most awful jobs you will work for no pay, no health benefits AND you will be subject to sexual harassment! If you’re female, I’ll probably compliment your bazoons and tell you how much I’d like to bend you over a pool table…and if you’re male I might muse about the hunnies I porked in college. It’ll be just like the workplace in the 70’s all over again except I don’t have a cheap suit, a bad combover and an ashtray on my desk piled high with cigarette butts.
Should you choose to work with me, we’ll converse about the horoscopes either by electronic media or in person over drinks if you have the convenience of geographic proximity…where I’ll probably motorboat the hell out of your tits! If you provide some good ideas for me (short jabs to the ribs are always more effective than long, convoluted ideas) then I will cite you as a guest writer in the little write-up on the horoscope post. Adversely, I can also reserve the right to dismiss any or all of your ideas or tweak them slightly as I deem fit. But if you work out really well, then your ideas will be featured along with mine every month. You can be a regular contributor to the crass horoscopes and who knows…I give unique gifts and dedications to my monumental commenters, so maybe the regular contributors will also get similar treatments.
So does this sound good to you? Then relay your ideas or your interest in helping out to me. The first of the month is looming near and I have no fresh ideas. Either we recycle old horoscopes again…steal them from The Onion directly (which I really don’t want to do)…ditch the whole franchise altogether…or better yet, kick start new life into the whole shebang! Good luck everyone…we’re all counting on you.
Did you ever get that fortune cookie that says “Pay and get out, Round-Eyes”? Hah!
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Ana_6973 Enjoys A Deep Dicking...Oh, And Munny!
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Posted:Aug 7, 2008 7:20 pm
Last Updated:Feb 17, 2010 1:13 pm
72613 Views
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Remember a couple of months ago? It was a more innocent time back then…before I went and got all self unemployed. Gas was under four dollars a gallon and I had a happy little contest called Be My 5000th Commenter And You GetMunny. Well, take a nice, long steamy gawk at that broad there. Ana_6973 Got her image burned in memory? Good…now let me tell you why she’s better than you. Her name is Ana_6973 and she was my 5000th commenter winner. As per the rules laid out by the contest, she would get a genuine do-it-yourself Munny figure designed by yours truly and sent to her place in Vegas where she now holds this one of a kind gift in her happy little hands. Ana sells…um…electro stimulus devices to only the most depraved and adventuresome of perverts, so naturally she wanted me to design a latex clad dominatrix holding such a device. The original figure was a pale baby blue template where I first laid out a few coats of high gloss black paint to assimilate the look and feel of latex…then matte details were painted on later. I particularly like the eyes and lips as they were inspired by those ever so popular and creepy/cute Blythe dolls. And the green eye shadow makes her look…easy.
I am such an honest contest administrator that I vowed to honor my true 5000th commenter with the prize whether I think they’re a creative genius or not…and boy did Ana ever miss the creative genius boat! I mean…seriously…take these gripping post titles for example:
[post 1497430]
[post 1453402]
[post 1437469]
[post 1393497]
And her blog goes on and on like that. Yes, folks…she’s a girl who gets more sex than you and isn’t afraid to write it all down…in laborious detail. You’d think a “blow by blow” account of her weekend shenanigans would be really goddamned hot but these posts read like low budget porno flicks…yanno…Ana meets boy-toy for dinner and drinks…somehow in the very next scene both are naked and pounding on her couch…Ana’s pussy gets wet…her loud moans wake the neighbors…boy-toy pulls out and cums all over her tits! Cut! That’s a wrap! Next scene!
Now, I know we’re on a sex site here…and we can conduct our blogs any way we please. Most of us rant, copy/paste jokes we found on the net, post song lyrics we like and write about our sexual encounters very much the way Ana does. But the thing that gets me is Ana reads maybe two novels a day and has like a masters degree in Mandarin or something. The girl is effen brilliant in real life! Honey, you can write about anything you want but you’re well read and intelligent. Why not use your natural smarts and the books you read to establish symbolism in your writing…maybe some foreshadowing…some alliteration…cripes, I’d settle for some onomatopoeia right about now!
Anyway…in spite of my opinions on her writing, there is just something absolutely enticing about Ana. Maybe its her Bettie Page bangs, her full lips…her voice…her charm…her overall persona…is sexy, exotic, and dangerous like that of a James Bond villainess. She adds not just a touch, but a whole fist full of class to this joint. Like many of my close online friends, we’ll probably end up meeting in person someday. I can only hope that when she airs our dirty deed on her blog the next day it’ll read slightly better than the plot of Cock Crazy Sluts Go Nuts IV. And with any luck at all, she won’t be too pissed about me dissing her writing style. And hopefully she won’t hook up one of her electro-stimulus devices to my nuts, crank up the volts and light up the night sky like an exploded ‘70 Pinto gas tank!
Ana, I was secretly rooting for you to win, so enjoy your Munny doll, baby…you’re well deserving of the win. The rest of you…head on over to Ana’s blog, inquire about electro-stimulation if you dare, congratulate her on her win, and tell her Atomic sent ya!
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Another Crass Horoscopes, You Monkey Fuckers!
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Posted:Aug 1, 2008 12:47 pm
Last Updated:Feb 20, 2012 12:39 pm
74962 Views
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Did you think I was gonna diss you this month by not posting the crass horoscopes? Well, I almost thought about it. As the circus says whenever they have a ghoulish mishap with a sword swallower or Hugo the Great gets his fat ass stuck in the cannon…the show must go on. Needless to say, I’ve had a roller coaster of a time these past couple of months and thinking up original horoscopes was pretty much out of the question. These are all recycled. I’ve been doing this just about every month for years and its getting harder to come up with original material and I don’t really want to resort to stealing jokes directly from The Onion. So…I am willing to collaborate with you if you truly have a good sense of humor and a knack to get it all written down in the future tense. Just contact me in my inbox or any other way you can for details. If you are truly funny and dedicated to the cause, this whole crass horoscope franchise will blow up like a supernova! I’ve never seen a supernova blow up, but if its anything like my old Chevy Nova, it’ll light up the night sky! Anyway…comment here. Get your own crass reading. Yadda Yadda.
Aries March 21-April 20 You’re not too sure what the Chinese woman in that darkened Singapore bar is soliciting, but as it has something to do with “pissy happy pee-pee surprise” you’ll decide to give it a go.
Taurus April 21-May 21 As a dyslexic and an egotist, you'll soon lie awake many nights pondering if Shaquille O'Neal ever wonders about the size of your penis.
Gemini May 22-June 21 You’ve heard the saying “sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me”. Unfortunately, it will seem that your neighbor, who has been shouting obscenities at you all week, will suddenly become privy to this proverb sometime next Friday.
Cancer June 22-July 23 Of course Daddy loves you, sweetheart, but daddy loves gin too. What’s wrong with Daddy loving both of you? Come here and give Daddy a hug.
Leo July 24-August 23 Well, look on the bright side, as unfortunate events unfold next week at least you’ll learn first hand how sausage is made.
Virgo August 24-September 23 After a heated argument at dinner concerning the proper placement of the salad fork, you'll learn, without a doubt, that it's rightful place is lodged deeply into your left cornea.
Libra September 24-October 23 You were right about discovering a new species of jellyfish…but don’t act so smug. As for your predictions of a race of cat women who thirst for your seed, you were way off.
Scorpio October 24-November 22 You’d think that with all the posters of naked supermodels you have in your room you’d attract some real naked supermodels, but no, not really.
Sagittarius November 23-December 21 In a bout of high spirits, you and your house guests will decide to watch the beloved animated classic "The House on Pooh Corner". All goes well until they discover you have created your own Poo Corner in your wine cellar.
Capricorn December 22- January 20 You'll prove your dear mother wrong when she suggests that you and your friends are coming over just to use her as a doormat when you and your friends come over and use her as a punching bag instead.
Aquarius January 21- February 19 With your moon rising in Mars this week, the stars declare that the details of your horoscope may be a bit hazy. Its unclear whether this effects you directly or indirectly but there might be something to do with selling a human foot to some Chinese dudes in a van.
Pisces February 20-March 20 Deemed a planet in 1930, then very recently stripped of its name and reduced to dwarf status by arguing scientists, Pluto now sits shamefully outcast at the edge of our solar system. You will suffer a similar fate as events unfold next Wednesday.
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The Idea That Shook Them To The Core
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Posted:Jul 29, 2008 9:02 pm
Last Updated:Aug 26, 2008 5:42 pm
73530 Views
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For those who have no idea what’s going on you might want to read the two posts before this one. Life, Love, And My Proverbial House Of Cards talks about how I’ve been fired from a job I cherished and the other, Picking Up The House Of CardsAnd Coming Up Aces describes the aftermath and how I came to figure out that I have been subject to wrongful termination and was gearing up to let you know what I was going to do about it. They’re a little long, but if you enjoy a story about a tenacious of a bitch who found a way to fight the system…then read the other posts and come back to this one when you can. At the very least you’ll be entertained. For those who do know what is going on, I left you with one hell of a cliffhanger. Sorry I had to do that but I was afraid the post limits on this site would cut me off mid thought. Anyone who has seen the finale of the Sopranos knows how disappointing that can be.
So to paint you back into the scene, a few of my co-workers and I were secretly gathered in a seedy, poorly lit dump of a bar. In spite of its lowbrow ambiance and poor service, it was our favorite watering hole for after work shenanigans and an ideal location to gather information and conspire revolution against The Movers And Shakers. This place lacked smiling waitresses in striped shirts and suspenders, nothing on the menu even resembled surf and turf, there was no cheesecake and nothing with a name as asinine as rooty tooty fresh and fruity…so we knew this place was too low down for The Movers and Shakers to ever show up in. Instead we had sticky tables, cheap drinks, a black lady dancing alone in front of the jukebox and a guy in a suit getting a blowjob in the bathroom from a very drunk woman…apparently they were both cops and were celebrating after a hard day of taking down the bad guys. The local was perfect. The patrons…questionable.
If you recall, I was also just about to tell my friends (and you, dear readers) about an idea I had…and idea that would shake them all to the core. This idea spawned out of frustration…out of anger…and a deeply seeded need to do something right in a world where loathsome gossipers plot to get rid of well liked, competent people and then chuckle about it over chocolate cake and ice cream. As for my grand idea, sequence of events and this story line dictates that I don’t reveal it just yet, but when I told my friends about it in that seedy bar their jaws dropped, their eyes widened and one laughed in disbelief. That’s a common reaction. Of all the friends and family I told this idea to so far, the reactions ran the gambit of: ingenious…brilliant…good idea but be careful…holy shit are you fucking kidding me…give it a month and if you still want to do it then go ahead…yes, for the love of all things good, do it…remind me never to piss you off…it’s a beautiful thing…I wish I could do that…for the love of God, don’t do it…you’re a fucking superhero…you’re a fucking prick…please do it for me…get a lawyer…and even one person said “its cold, heartless, and creepy and I had no idea your heart was capable of such malice.” All reactions and suggestions were duly noted.
The other day while heading to the grocery store, I ran into a few young ladies who were students of mine. They greeted me warmly and said that they had come in to turn in some paperwork and ask me advice on their financial situations but I wasn’t there. I said that from now on they’d have to seek out my coworkers and I was no longer employed there. “You got to be fucking kidding! You were like the best one there, dude! Everyone freakin’ loved you.” I thanked them and told them their kind words meant a lot. I didn’t mention that I already knew the gist of what they told me was the common consensus. (I was practicing humility for once.) They asked if I had a plan and I said yes. “You gonna try to get your job back?” “No”, I said. “I’ve got something even better.” With a knowing smile I headed into the grocery store.
Upon her suggestion, I wrote a carefully orchestrated letter to the Director of HR, signed it, and mailed it off. In it, I didn’t mention anything about my meeting with former co-workers, I didn’t mention names, nor did I mention that I heard that a plot to get rid of me and others was heard through bathroom walls. While these points were juicy, they’re only conjecture after all. It would be my friend’s word against…nothing. So instead, I wrote about facts: my firing seemed dubious, I detected no shift in my performance, I had no forewarning, I was never written up for anything, I have recent written accolades proving I was doing a good job, the reason given to me as to why I was fired was clearly a mistake I didn’t make, and my mediocre eval just before getting the ax seemed planted. I also said that I was willing to accept that I could be wrong about any of the mentioned points. Also I wrote that I wasn’t looking to get my job back nor did I want anything done about it…I was merely getting my thoughts down on paper and sharing them with someone. I wrote that this letter was more for my own benefit than anything else and if it was only read once and thrown away…or filed somewhere never to be thought about again, I was ok with it either way. I sent the letter off and was ready to close that chapter…send it drifting along while I went wherever the winds of fate would take me.
I didn’t expect a phone call back stating that she was glad I wrote the letter and agreed with me on some points and she’d like to speak to me…after working hours, of course. While sitting in her office she told me that it seemed strange that my boss would approach her asking for assistance in firing me. It seemed peculiar as she knew my reputation was a good one and I had letters of accolades in my file that even my boss doesn’t know about. She believed that my termination was wrongful and was conducting an investigation on the matter but couldn’t discuss any details. Wrongful termination. Suddenly this whole thing was more than just a gut feeling, theories, and conjecture from spiteful things heard through bathroom walls…this was taking on a shape of something a lot more…official. Should this investigation yield anything positive, she told me what my options were. I weighed them all. They seemed like viable options for later, but in the meantime…I had my idea.
She didn’t tell me anything about her investigation or how it was going, however I was informed that someone complained about The Movers And Shakers and specifically how they declared themselves in charge of everything and do nothing but gossip and never return their phone calls. People have been calling apparently and not getting through to them and demanding that they get patched through to me as they knew I was always dependable and good with answers…only to learn I was no longer employed. I was informed that the Director of HR sat quietly in our lobby and heard for herself The Movers and Shakers loudly gossiping about how this one wears such ugly shoes, this other one doesn’t know good fashion if it slapped her in the face and this other one is such a kruddy skank. Also the Director of HR learned that The Movers and Shakers hardly ever return calls because they only work one or two days a week, even though they are paid for full time work…its sort of a quiet agreement amongst them…kind of like lunches that span an entire afternoon or leaving half a day early to take advantage of a sale at Nordstrom’s.
I’ve been told I look dangerous in a suit and tie…like a gangster or a hired hit man. I could see their point as I adjusted my tie in the mirror. I’m short…marginally ethnic looking…a guy whom you can’t quite guess his ethnicity…nor his motives. You take away my skull rings, sunglasses, and hot rod t-shirts and put me in a double breasted suit and you still get a guy on the fringe of normal society…who’s eyes hide an agenda. While most of this time unemployed had been spent with unkempt hair and a six day growth of harsh stubble, I shaved and got a haircut for the event, but kept my signature goatee even with the few strands of white that have collected there over time. I was thinking about going to the meeting just in my street clothes but this was important. I was aware of the uncanny psychological effect this suit had. This suit, in itself, was a weapon and I can assure you that within it, I had several more. All of them loaded. It was time to unleash my idea…the idea that would shake them to the core.
Choosing a proper time for the meeting was a tough task considering I wanted to maximize the effectiveness of all of my weapons. I was given the fancy board room on the top floor of my former place of employment. An underling like me could have never requested such a lofty locale while I was working there but being a former employee with an uncanny idea seemed to have granted me a lot of sway. It was a far cry from the dark, seedy bar where the idea was first announced. In attendance was a crowd equally as lofty as the boardroom…these were folks in departments I didn’t normally work with ranging from Development, representatives from The Provost’s and President’s offices as well as a few people on the Board of Directors. These were affluent folks who dabbled their hands and funds into all sorts of endeavors. Sitting beside me was the Director of HR and throughout the room was about a half dozen folks I may have known from sight but had no idea what they did for work but I presumed it was something important. Everyone was in place…except for my former boss.
My first weapon of choice was…charm. In what turned out to be a long wait for my former boss to arrive, everyone got to like me. I smiled, joked a little, laughed, and complimented everyone on a great job they were doing for the school…particularly those on the Board of Directors. I read somewhere that the…elbows on the arms of the chair and the fingertips touching each other gesture…the one that is sort of like hands pressed together in prayer…except only the fingertips touching, not the palms…I read that this gesture projected confidence and was the favored hand gesture amongst CEOs, dictators and war generals. This is how my hands were as I talked…as I joked lightly…all the while projecting confidence. By this point everyone in the room knew of my idea and was on board with it, we were just waiting to lay it on my old boss.
My second weapon of choice was knowing the nature of people…particularly my boss. After dealing with her for nearly five years she has been late for nearly every meeting she ever needed to attend…even if she was the one initiating the meeting. She was narcissistic, condescending, socially awkward, often contradictory and frequently interrupted when others were talking. Also she was a time suck. She talked a lot without saying anything…she would actually spend 45 minutes telling you she didn’t have time to talk and we should reschedule…when just hearing us for five minutes would have gotten the point across. She didn’t know a first from a last name, nor a male from a female name and in our line of work, this…and so many of her other attributes often created problems. I counted on the fact that she would be late and as the minutes ticked by, the better I looked and, the more volatile my weapon against her was becoming. “I’m afraid that punctuality wasn’t one of her strong suits”, I stated to the boardroom with a coy smile. They chuckled and it was suggested that we should call her and I politely said no and that she was probably in the middle of something important and that we shouldn’t rush her. One of the stipulations of the meeting was that she wouldn’t know what it was about, nor that I was in attendance until she arrived. Let her think this is just another meeting she can blow off as she pleases, I thought. Let her dig her own grave. This was going exactly as planned.
Finally forty-five minutes after the start of the meeting, she arrived in a disarray making excuses to everyone about being wrapped up in an important phone call and took the only empty seat at the large table. She stopped mid sentence when she spotted me sitting across from her. My hands were still in that confident gesture. I smiled at her a little. I think I even gave her a wink as someone would to that lonely girl across a seedy bar. Not too happy to see me, are you, my dear? That’s too bad…because I’m just thrilled to see you.
“What are you doing here?” She asked with a venomous tone. “You’re no longer employed here!” Fantastic! Let her steer the course after coming in 45 minutes late. Let her make wrong assumptions. This is already going so well. “Actually”, I began coyly, “this has nothing to do with my employment…or lack thereof.”
“Atomic is here”, someone from the development department began “because he cares deeply for the students here.”
My boss rolled her eyes. “If you cared so much about students”, she spat, “you wouldn’t have goofed off online so much. You’re not getting your job back! I made the decision and its final.” Her voice seemed confident enough but her body language already gave away a nervous, defensive posture. She held the top of her shirt closed, then crossed her arms over her shoulders. “How much I goofed off online is debatable”, I stated calmly. “When I was given the opportunity to collect my belongings at my desk, I was also given the opportunity to completely clear my hard drive and internet history. I didn’t…because I was confident in my work ethic. I merely signed out of websites that I had visited and threw a couple of photos of friends at work gatherings into the desktop recycle bin. Should anyone care to seize my computer and analyze my daily activity, they will find a guy who occasionally checked his personal email…sometimes looked at classic cars…and sporadically corresponded with other adult lego builders. My work email, however you will find that I promptly answered all questions and concerns as they came…right up until I had been terminated, of course. My hard drive should hold evidence of a squeaky clean and conscientious individual who worked hard but occasionally checked email between projects. Even if I were to get my job back”, I stated while pausing for effect, “I wouldn’t want to return to a hostile environment that I was ostracized from.” Zing!
“But again, this meeting has nothing to do with my termination. As stated earlier, we’re here because I care deeply for our students.” It was time to unleash my idea…the idea that would shake them to the core. For the first time during the meeting, I was nervous. I looked to many at the table for guidance…for support. They nodded their approval. Some smiled, knowing what was about to be said. In the silence before the storm, each replicated my confident fingertip touching hand gesture and waited. For this to work well my voice needed to be confident. Maybe in the whole scheme of things it was big headed to do so, but I thought about some of the world’s most admirable speakers…Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., General Patton and hoped that I could somehow channel their energy…their drive…as I unleashed the biggest weapon in my arsenal.
“As I know fully what it is like to be suddenly and wrongfully put into a bad situation, I want to help those who have been put through something similar. I’ve set up a scholarship fund specifically for students who have been wrongfully put into an unfortunate situation. This scholarship will be in my name…my full name and it will be reflected as such when you print their award letters. An unfortunate situation as stipulated by the terms of the scholarship could include everything from a death in the family, an auto accident, theft, even…wrongful termination of a job.” From the corner of my eye I could see my boss’s jaw drop as I went on. “Applications will be taken over a four month period. During this time frame, the good folks in the Graphics Design Department has already agreed to create eye catching posters that will be posted throughout the campus…alerting students to this scholarship fund and letting them know to request applications from you. Each application will be filled out and sent to a PO Box that I had set up for this purpose. So that none are lost, I will photocopy them, fax them to you, then file them away. You will collect and read all of their applications. I imagine many of their accounts of misfortune would be difficult to read…of course, like everything we do, proof of their unfortunate situation will have to be given…but you will be tasked with choosing a recipient for this scholarship. The amount awarded will be (undisclosed amount) of my own money and given to one student this school year. The same amount and same application process will go to another student the following year. If my finances are ok in the years after that I may opt to continue the fund but I have stipulated only two years for now. I calculated this carefully and it’s the most I can do without putting myself in major financial turmoil. ”
My boss glared at me through gritted teeth and eyes filled with hate and reddening from holding back tears. That’s right, my dear…show everyone how ugly you really are, I thought. I was a good employee and you knew it. Whatever your reasons are…you planted a bogus evaluation and used it to get rid of me. You fired me as everyone’s favorite Financial Aid Advisor and everyone knows it. Now you will know my name for years to come. You will see it on all the applications…you will see it on posters…everywhere you turn you will know my name…and you will remember what you had done to me. I doubt you’ll last long. You’re being investigated…you and the other Movers And Shakers. I doubt you’ll last long indeed. I continued on…strong and confident. “When our finalist is determined, you will notify me via email. I will send a signed congratulatory letter to the student stating that I hope my contribution will help ease their troubles. You will store a copy of the letter in the student file. I will write a check and send it off to the Student Accounts Office. You will disburse the fund to the student and reflect the scholarship with my name in their award letter. The same process will repeat the following year.”
“I’ll have to make an executive decision and put a stop to this scholarship,” my former boss announced with false confidence. “It doesn’t sound like a good idea to me,” she said trying to goad everyone else along. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”
“Actually, Atomic has thought this out thoroughly,” the Director of HR chimed in softly. “He was very concise as he relayed the details to me and everyone else. He has all the stipulations written down. This has already been green-lighted and put in motion…you’re just the last to know about it.”
“He’s doing it to be malicious!”, my boss growled through gritted teeth. Her tears were coming more readily now…her eyes a fiery glow. Her hatred for me was clear. She was like a snarling, hissing animal snared in a trap. Just the way I like you, my dear.
“There is nothing malicious about helping students in need,” stated someone from the President’s office. “In these tough times we are in no position to turn down this scholarship just because you don‘t want to disburse it. The executive decision, as you say…has already been made. This meeting is over.”
As we filed out into the hall we chatted, smiled…even laughed. We were buzzing, even reeling from the meeting and the turn of events. I was grinning from ear to ear in almost disbelief that this worked so favorably. I had been knocked down when I lost the job I cherished and slowly, quietly I amassed my friends and former co-workers…all the underlings who have been mistreated…we gathered solidarity…we gathered information…we gathered strength and found a voice. I took a bad situation that didn’t feel quite right and instead of rolling over and succumbing to defeat, I gave it an uncanny positive spin and kicked my boss and the System in the preverbal nuts while doing it. A bunch of us entered the elevator and there were smiles and handshakes all around. A board member patted me on the back and said , “Yanno Mr. Atomic, I don’t know what you’ll do for work but for a guy with your abilities and as tenacious as you…you’ll have lots of big, terrific options, I’m sure. Keep in touch, let us know how you’re doing, will you?”
“Will do, sir. Will do,” I said sounding like a , still reeling from what I had done. I had shaken them to the core. Just as the elevator doors were closing my boss ran to the elevator but saw me and so many others from the meeting in it and thought better about getting in. Her tear filled eyes glared. The doors closed, shutting the sight of her out of my life probably forever. Maybe the polite thing to do was to hold the door open for her…but…eh, she could take the stairs. A couple of people chuckled as we descended, leaving her in the hall of the top floor. As everyone filed out into the main floor lobby, I sent the elevator back up, but not without first pressing every other button on the elevator keypad….that way, if my former boss was still waiting for the elevator, she’d take a nice, slow tour of every floor on her way down. Being no longer in her employ can grant so much freedom and power. I smiled all the way home thinking how good I looked in my suit and tie. With a good mind, a good heart and a bit of a fighting edge…there is no limit to what I can do.
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Picking Up The House Of Cards...And Coming Up Aces
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Posted:Jul 22, 2008 7:50 pm
Last Updated:Aug 1, 2008 11:06 am
69105 Views
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Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to stay off of here for too long, but as I’m actually feeling productive I don’t anticipate writing all that much on here…at least for now. But I do think you are entitled to know what’s been going on lately, if only just for me to get it down in words. In my ample free time since being fired, I’ve been exercising more, reading more, painting more, and doing all the things that help enhance the mind and body. To continue my analogy from my last post, I’m picking up the cards from my toppled house of cards and coming up all aces…all winning hands…but this is me we’re talking about here so…no one had any doubts. Speaking of my last post, for those who have commented on it, I commented back but only once en masse. I can assure you I thought about all of your suggestions and kind words and I thank you for everything. Your words have helped lift me back to being the snarky, confident soul I know I can be.
I was told not to discuss the condition of my firing with anyone…and by the handsome severance package they had given me, it seemed that they had bought my silence. However as its been my instinct to climb to the tallest mountain tops and tell it to the world, it would appear that they haven’t paid enough for it. Talking to others has been…enlightening to say the least. I learned that they gave my former co-workers the silent treatment whenever they asked my whereabouts and even went as far as saying “It would be in your best interest not to ask any questions”. This went against what they said they would do. When they asked me what would I prefer people know I said that I wanted them to know “the truth”, that being I was let go for mediocre performance. I liked that idea because I was certain everyone would get the joke…Atomic mediocre? I heard nothing but good things about him. The fact is, I was let go as everyone’s favorite advisor with the written and verbal accolades to prove it…and everyone seemed to have known it…which is why the silent treatment was so damaging. In the first week after my absence and in the midst of all the fear and silence, everyone thought I was either dead, missing, had family issues, or somehow involved in some kind of nefarious dealings. One by one the phone calls from worried co-workers came when they gathered the courage enough to do it. I confirmed that I was fired, but alive and well…and eager to meet them for drinks to spill the beans on this whole damned situation and to learn their take on it.
The consensus around here was that I was wrongfully terminated. Getting rid of me, I’ve been told, was all part of a larger corporate cleansing and it seems it was naive of me to think I was the first…only the most…lets just say, dramatic. Some months back I had a former co-worker and a dear friend who had left willingly to be closer to her family…or so it appeared. In the months before her departure she was continuously coerced by …The Movers And Shakers…that her mom was getting on in years and maybe it was time to leave to take care of her…take care of her…before it is too late. Finally she obliged and her plight was covered up with a nice going away party with cake and ice cream. Everyone treated her warmly with hugs and well wishes as they ate cake.
I’ve also been told that from the lady’s bathroom on the third floor at work, if you sit quietly in the furthest stall, one can hear everything that goes on in the conference room. Not ten minutes after my former co-worker left the building , the voices of The Movers And Shakers could be heard…“ FINALLY we sent that stupid Mexican back to L.A.!” followed by whoops, woo-hooos and high-fives all around and… “Oh my God, this cake is sooooo good!”
The thing about my former co-worker is she was sweet, polite, well liked by her students, a seemingly competent co-worker, she was an accomplished artist, good mother, dear friend and frankly one of the kindest and most sincere people I have ever met…which makes that whole stupid Mexican back to LA thing seem particularly heinous. Furthermore, not that anyone deserves such an ugly slur, but she did nothing I could fathom to warrant it. She spoke perfect English without an accent…other than the way she looked and her affinity for colorful art, you’d never know she was Mexican…you’d have to be deeply seeded in hate in order to even notice it in such an awful way. She was articulate, successful, confident, well liked and classically attractive…which, now that I think about it, could have been her demise as far as The Movers And Shakers were concerned. From the lady’s bathroom on the third floor at work, if you sit quietly in the furthest stall, one can hear everything that goes on in the conference room. I was told that the plan to get rid of me was heard in a similar way about a month before I was fired.
To get the timeframe in order, about three and a half weeks before I was fired, I was given a mediocre yearly evaluation…the first I’ve ever gotten in the nearly five years of working there. I detected no shift in my performance, in fact I had taken on more responsibilities since my last evaluation so it took me by surprise. Only one example was given for my mediocre performance and it was an example I didn’t agree with. It was a mistake I didn’t even make and I made a judgment call on it…I’ve made the same judgment call dozens of times before and was praised for doing it…but this time it was different. It seemed peculiar, as if this was planted and I could say nothing in my defense. I had proof that I was doing a phenomenal job as usual with recent written accolades to back it up but my boss would hear nothing of it and refused to put the good letters of commendation in my file along with my mediocre evaluation. In a numbering system of one through five I scored a few threes, a three and a half, and a five. (Even if my boss was in a crappy mood that day, as I rarely called in sick, always showed up on time and never required breaks, my dependability couldn’t be denied.) It was a little depressing to see those threes but in the whole scheme of things it wasn’t so bad as the definition of a three was…“Satisfactory: Employee meets but does not generally exceed performance standards. The employee is competent and is performing the job at an adequate level.” Satisfactory, competent and adequate; these are words that don’t seem to warrant a job termination. A week and a half later I went on a two weeks vacation and returned to work on June 26th well rested and ready to take on the world. Within a half hour of returning, I was called up to Human Resources and my boss was there to tell me she was letting me go. I was stunned, taken aback, and had no voice when they dropped that on me on June 26th. In the long silence I thought about my mediocre eval that seemed peculiar…and only one example of poor performance that was given. An example I didn’t agree with. Satisfactory. Competent. Adequate. By all definition I was doing ok. Not exemplary, but ok. You can’t fire someone without just cause…and it seems now more than ever…that just cause was planted.
The next day I was given the opportunity to collect my personal effects from my desk but it had to be after working hours and the Director of HR had to accompany me while I did so, lest I sabotage my computer or steal expensive programs…or worse. This was fine by me…in fact preferable as this had given me great opportunity to find my voice that I had lost the day before. I talked to her, made good conversation, even smiled and cracked jokes. She was a cute, yet quiet, mousy woman, tiny in stature and with an expressive face and warm smile. She seemed forever timid, making me wonder how she ever obtained a job with such high power and stature as Director of Human Resources. She was clearly doing a difficult job. When my boss approached her as to how to properly fire me she had to provide the resources to do so. Here she was, this tiny, shy gal alone with me as I smiled and cracked jokes while I cleared my desk. I’m no giant myself, but I was much taller and probably outweighed her by sixty pounds or more. I was well liked, apparently a good worker considering my uncanny predicament and now I was fired…possibly pissed off and God knows what else. I assumed my good friends over in the security department were on standby…close…unseen…just in case. After all, they each outweighed me by a hundred pounds at least. They do good work.
But they weren’t needed. I kept the mood light, made conversation, gave her my charming Harrison Ford smile and started to take down my cards and letters from students and parents, telling me want I great Advisor I am/was. I showed each to her, mentioned that there were a few more cards at home and even showed her a shiny trophy given to me by a former student for being “The Best Financial Aid Advisor Ever!” Sure the trophy was plastic and the words were written in silver magic marker, but the sentiment…and its desired effect was all there. “Kinda makes it funny and ironic now, doesn’t it?” I said to her. “Yes, yes it does”, she said in almost a whisper. After a very long pause while I was stowing my personal effects and clearing the few websites that I had occasionally went to off of my computer she said; “you know…if…um…if you feel your termination went…differently than you’d expect or…different than how it went on paper…then…why don’t you write me a letter.” I couldn’t help but smile at her. It was as if she was reading my mind…this timid little ray of sunshine said exactly I was thinking but couldn’t build the courage to say myself. “Thank you“, I said. I think I’ll take you up on it. But…um…I’ll wait awhile to clear my head. That way I’m writing you with smarts and logic and not anger or clouded judgement. That ok by you?” “Yes,” she said with a smile. “That would be fine.” Then just before handing her my ID card and leaving the building forever, she encouraged me to steal a whole bunch of my favorite kind of pens.
So the first frightened calls came from my co-workers about a week later and I was off to discuss my termination in some dumpy little dive that was our favorite watering hole…more importantly we knew this place was too lowbrow for The Movers And Shakers to ever show up in. I was greeted warmly and over drinks I spilled the beans about my termination and how I was asked not to discuss it. I learned they all received, at least this particular crowd anyway, had received low evaluation scores that took them by surprise and I learned the true fate of my dear friend who was coerced to take care of her aging mother in L.A. and what was overheard in the lady’s bathroom. I learned also that the plan to get rid of me was overheard in a similar manner. I took mental notes then later wrote a lot of things down that would eventually become the basis for the letter I would soon write to the Director of Human Resources.
I was getting ready to tell my friends and former co-workers about an idea I had. It was only in its preliminary stages and a lot still needed to be done to flesh it out before execution but before I told them about it…about the idea that would shake them to the core, I thought about my dear friend and the awful things that were said about her as The Movers And Shakers ate her cake…the cake they relished in as they sent my friend back to L.A. “Oh my God this cake is sooooo good!”, they said. I thought about Marie Antoinette and her famous words just before losing her head at the guillotine. Let them eat cake. I thought about my idea that would shake them to the core. Indeed, let them eat cake. I’ve got something a lot bigger they can eat.
stay tuned for more…
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Life, Love, And My Proverbial House Of Cards
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Posted:Jun 26, 2008 4:28 pm
Last Updated:Jan 28, 2015 5:26 am
69586 Views
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Its an understatement to say that this first post back from vacation has turned out much different than I had planned. I wanted to tell you what a great time I had in New England and crack a few jokes in my usual style…but recent circumstances has superseded that idea. Don’t worry…no one has died or anything.
But first let me tell you that I landed safely, my honey picked me up from the airport and I called my girlfriend, Ruby Red to let her know I am safe and can’t wait to see her and my home. (Yeah, I know…honey and girlfriend…without even trying, I’ve become that guy.) Ruby Red then told me that there is one more surprise in the works at my place and actually she’d rather I stay with my honey for one more day, if at all possible. Wow…I’m pretty aware that’s not something the average guy hears often…like I said…that guy.
Finally I came home from a long vacation that has been extended by a day to find Ruby Red and a small welcoming party of helpers who were apparently in on the surprise. There was a faint smell of brand new wood and furnishings. It turned out that while away, Ruby had keyed into my place, installed an elaborate system of top quality shelves and bins and re-sorted and reorganized all of my Lego into neat drawers and compartments…a feat that was much needed but assuredly took countless mind numbing hours, even days. Not only that, but I was staring at a new TV that was clearer and larger than the one I had and was sitting atop a new stand. There were shelves installed that nicely showcased my prize-winning lego creations and she had displayed them all handsomely…without a mishap! My bedroom was reorganized, my old TV looked great in there and my bathroom was cleaned thoroughly. On my kitchen table, Ruby had built the words “I love you” in lego with each letter alternating in red and white…this happened to be the first thing I saw when I walked in and it made me smile. Suddenly the expensive wine and the small assortment of gifts I had in store for Rudy Red seemed grossly inadequate in comparison. I was beaming with joy, with pride, with love and in spite of my urge to bestow the world with a heaping serving of gratitude I remained …mostly speechless. It turns out mostly speechless would later become a reoccurring theme here.
I walked into work this morning for the first time in two weeks with the confidence and swagger of a guy on top of the world. Reacquainting myself with my desk, my comfy swivel chair and setting things up at my work station back to the way I liked them, I knew that sifting through my phone messages and emails that have accumulated over the weeks would be a daunting one…I’d have to weed out and delete the unimportant ones and address the important stuff in some kind of order not yet figured out. I smiled at each of my co-workers as they walked in (note I was there before them) as I sifted through a long list of things I wanted to get done. Back from vacation, I was refreshed, happy, my head was clear and I was actually ready to take on the world as the cliché goes…actually ready to make a difference. I had a proverbial winning hand and with it I was building a (also proverbial) towering house of cards when the ironic phone call came.
I answered cheerily in my professional phone voice with a smile; because I knew that people can actually hear a smile over the phone…and plus I just couldn’t help it…I was grinning ear to ear all morning. It was the Director of HR, she said my boss was with her and they’d like me to come upstairs to speak to them. After regaining my breath, I told them I’d be right there. They don’t exactly call you up to HR to say hi and see how you’ve been. My worries on the seemingly endless elevator ride up to the top floor had been confirmed…they said it was a very difficult decision but after almost four years of service, they were letting me go. (And there toppled my proverbial house of cards.) There was a very long pause before I could gather the voice to ask their reasoning. They said as of late I’ve been distracted by other projects, other non-work related endeavors and it has effected my performance on the job. They said I wasn’t as conscientious as I used to be and mistakes were occurring.
Normally I’m someone with a quick and intelligent response, someone with a well thought out and meaningful answer but I was reeling and once again…speechless. In my long silence, I thought back on the raises I’ve demanded and actually gotten, I thought back on all the letters and cards downstairs at my desk from students and parents telling me what a great job I’ve done. All the praise and all the accolades and the fact that I was back from vacation, refreshed and once again ready to take on big things at work seemed by this point weird and ironic. In the long silence I also thought about what has been said to me by friends and co-workers…that its nearly impossible to get fired from this place. You’d have to go mentally insane and babble on about quarks, quasars, time travel and quantum physics…then threaten to kill someone…which happened to a guy a couple years back. That’s how you get let go from here. Needless to say, I’ve done none of that…in fact I was also thinking in the long silence that I didn’t fit the description of a guy whose been fired. Usually they’re disgruntled types who hate their job, hate the people they work with and are glad to go anyway. This wasn’t me. In spite of that fact, I had no fight in me, no defense and even if I did, my mouth was too dry to let out any words. The problem was they were right…I was indeed distracted by all kinds of other endeavors…all kinds of other obligations and with tight deadlines looming, in the long silence, I also thought with irony that I now had time to complete them. Still, with the letters of praise and accolades, I just didn’t seem to fit the description of a guy whose just been fired.
Probably sensing my thoughts of irony and accolades they broke the silence and told me that I would be given a generous severance package that should take care of me for a few months. Also my health and dental benefits would continue for a spell and in spite of the fact that I had just taken a two week vacation I still had plenty of accumulated leave time that they would give back to me in the form of payment. They told me that even though I was let go, I can still reap full unemployment benefits because I’ve been such a swell guy and furthermore “some very nice things” can be said for me should I need a reference for future employment elsewhere. “Some very nice things” I knew meant other stuff could follow should the inevitable question of “why was he let go” be asked. Undoubtedly it’ll be a tender spot in the slew of job interviews that are sure to come and as of yet I’m unsure how that’ll be handled.
Its funny I don’t even play cards, but to go back to that analogy, I am someone who always has a winning hand, so to speak. With my poker face in check, I always have a secret…a plan…and a backup plan should my first plan fail unexpectedly…but this time I’m stumped. My proverbial house of cards had just toppled a few short hours ago and as I’m picking up my cards again I’m not quite sure if I’m holding a hand that I should fold or the winning Royal Flush. Nothing is clear to me now…other than the notion that my first instinct was to write this all down as soon as I got home. There is that sneaking feeling that losing a job has always been a blessing in disguise…there has always been another one more rewarding and with better pay to replace it, but still I have to prioritize and I have a lot of things to get done. In spite of the fact that I now have seemingly a lot of free time on my hands, writing humorous posts for you, my dear readers, may or may not be tops on my list of things to do and I hope that you can find it in your hearts to understand. I will still work on my 5000th commenter’s prize as promised and will still do the requisite roasting post to go along with it…but other than that I have no guarantees right now.
For those who have just discovered me, you’ve stumbled upon a guy who has a long legacy here as a writer…as a good writer but is suddenly at a crossroads and not sure what to do about it. You’re welcome to read, at your leisure, some or all of my work and as my dedicated readers can attest, you’ll be in for something quite different, quite special. I may write some more…I may not…but the mood here calls for a hiatus, at least for a little while. For those of you new and old who have become my dear friends over the years, you’re always welcome to contact me any way you know how. Rest assured I’ll be glad to hear from you, no matter what.
On a final note before I move on to wherever the winds take me, my opinion of Ruby Red’s message of love built in lego was this: Its very cute, endearing, heartfelt and wonderful. I thought (at the time) that it probably wouldn’t win any trophies at conventions, but for someone who’s only had a polite tolerance for lego and gets frustrated the few times she had tried to build something, she has done a great job. Now, as I’m writing this, my opinion of her cute little gesture has skyrocketed. I look at all the work she has done and I now know that her message of love means more than all the trophies in the world. Also now, in this tough, uncertain time, I look over at the words “I love you” on the kitchen table and it means more to me than she’ll ever know.
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Daddy's Munny Winner...And A Bunch Of Gay Stuff
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Posted:Jun 11, 2008 11:32 pm
Last Updated:Jul 2, 2008 8:24 pm
66820 Views
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A winner to my Be My 5000th Commenter And You GetMunny contest has been determined…and just in the nick of time! I’ll be on vacation for a couple of weeks and I may or may not be posting or checking in online. When I return, I will do what I can to work on my lucky winner’s munny prize.
In the meantime keep your sex crazed, depraved little selves occupied with some old rehashed classics from the Atomic bargain basement. You newbies can discover works of mine you may have missed and you seasoned oldsters can reminisce over a gentler, more naive time when I cracked more jokes about you having an ass like a bag of wet clothes.
I like writing these rehashed posts…it’s like riding on the laurels of a half dozen or so really good posts with minimal effort…sort of like Adam West’s career. (Oh snap! No you didn’t! Girlfriend!) I can do a post like this while drunk and handcuffed naked to a dumpster (also an old overused joke of mine) but I don’t just throw a bunch unrelated stupid posts together like a Modest Mouse album. (Ziiiinng!!) I like themes! But what can I do for a theme here? What can I do? Oh yes! June happens to be Gay Pride Month. Just like Black History Month, I’ve honored our fruity friends by occasionally featuring them in my kick-in-the-nuts style of writing. So whether you’re an angry bull dyke, a dramatic drag queen, a frumpy fag hag, a big flaming homo, or if you just enjoy my twisted view of the world, you’re gonna love these tantalizing treats!
Oh Tranny
Fratboy Totally Wonders If Friend39s Mom Is Lipstick Lesbian Or The Mullet Kind
Why Do I Keep Meeting Gay Men At Gay Bars
Workplace Diversity Committee Creams Jeans Over AfricanAmerican Lesbian In Wheelchair
Gay Couple Uses Map On Dartboard To Determine Next Place To Live
My At 420 Fisher St, Apt 6 Is A Goddamned Insatiable Homo
So read on, dear friends, let me know you’ve been here and on the other posts and wish me well on my travels. If you got my seven digits don’t be afraid to give it a call to see how I’m doing. For the rest of you, I’ll be back quicker than Britney Spears’ stint in rehab. (Yowza!)
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Be My 5000th Commenter And You Get...Munny
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Posted:Jun 8, 2008 9:33 pm
Last Updated:Aug 7, 2008 6:08 pm
68849 Views
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Everyone knows…I take care of my monumental commenters like no other blogger can. For one lucky winner I had Yuki Ono, Japan’s revered karaoke champ botch up a song of her choice. Another winner was berated and hit on by two boisterous drunks…one a crass, foul-mouthed CEO of a soup company, the other a famous insult comic dog. (Yes, that was actually considered winning something…and let me tell ya, the winner was tickled pink by the naughty dedication.) Two other winners made me their little bitch and I created humorous posts for them based on a picture of their choice. My last monumental winner…got his dream car built for him in lego based on his specs. The dream car is still pieced together and will be viewed by thousands at the convention in October. Yes, I’m a real piece of work and I let my special commenters know it. But ask yourself…what have I done for you lately? Jack nothing, that’s what! Unless you consider those times I’ve lured you into my lair for the biting and spanking and the howling of obscenities so the neighbors can hear what with the give it to me Daddy and the Daddy loves his little girl…as something.
But all that is about to change for one lucky Daddy’s girl…or boy. Just be my 5000th commenter and you get Munny. Sho’ enough! No shit!
But Atomic, you may say to me while furrowing your brow. What the hell is Munny and why should I care? If you haven’t already, check out The Art Of Making Munny and Show Me The Munny. A Munny is a do-it-yourself artform that starts off as a plain usually white template but can be blue, pink or black as pictured here. A Munny is short, pudgy, has a big round head and is roughly monkey or infant shaped. That’s how they start…but in the hands of artists, with a little skill and imagination, you can turn your Munny into Freddy Kruger, a robot, a dominatrix, a glass fish bowl, even William Shatner. Check out what others have done online and be sure to check here Show Me The Munny to see my sinister “Bad Humor Man”…it made a huge stir outside of this site. Furthermore, once these little guys have been poked, prodded, humiliated and defiled by artists, they make it into those uppity art exhibits and resell for mucho scratch! Excited yet? But wait, there’s more! If you’re my 5000th commenter, here is what you get…
A Deep Dicking!…er I mean a gentle ribbing. You get a whole post dedicated to you…whether I think you’re a creative genius or not! There’ll even be links to your blog. Peeps will click on it! This is great if you’re a struggling little blogger…or if you’re the most popular blogger ever, you’ll get the satisfaction of knowing yet another person linked to you that wasn’t a fake profile you created. How cool is that? WOW! I hope I win!
Your Munny Shot! The post will have a picture of your finished Munny figure taken in a professional photo studio (three pieces of white foam core slapped on my kitchen table). You will adore your dedication and everyone else will be jealous. They’ll wish they were you…some will even wish they were slapped on my kitchen table and given a Munny shot. Ohhhhh, I’m so excited I could shit a brick! But wait…there’s more…
Take The Munny, Ho! And the grandest prize of all…you get the 4 inch (10.2cm) Munny figure sent to you at no cost to you! You will have an original one-of-a-kind piece of artwork inspired by you and created and signed by me to have and to hold in your hot little hands! You can class up the joint and display it proudly next to your Franklin Mint Star Trek collector plates! WOW…this is as exciting as the time the Jehovah’s Witnesses came and I answered the door with my bathrobe wide open!!
The Rules, Bitches! Just comment on this post. You don’t need anything special, witty, or insightful…just anything will do. So we don’t rig this thing like the ’00 and ’04 elections you may only comment TWICE! No exceptions! You may space them out strategically or blow the whole wad at once…the choice is yours. But as my Jolie post bombed worse than I thought it would we’re gonna need them both to win so be sure to use ‘em.
Once a winner is determined, I will announce it on this post’s comment string. I will not say who the winner is, but it least it’ll let you know you can chill out. You will not hear from me again until a winner is determined…so if that is tonight or three months from now, the choice is yours. The only way you will hear from me again before a winner is found is if this contest goes dead in water for lack of comments, then and only then will I announce that each of you can have a third comment. That has never happened before but yanno…I gotta cover my bases.
Should you be the winner, I will contact you privately whether by phone, yoohoo IM, email, AdultFriendFinder inbox…or if you’re really lucky (or unfortunate depending on your point of view) I’ll nudge ya after a long night of deep dicking and tell you you’re a big winner. In turn you will contact me back promptly (or nudge me) with whatever mailing address you’d like your Munny sent. You may also offer suggestions as to what you’d like done (that I may or may not listen to) or you may simply trust my artistic integrity. If you win, definitely get back to me promptly!! I will not wait several weeks for your response. Should I be put in that situation (again) I will simply give the prize to the 4999th commenter.
Again, just to cover my bases I gotta lay this shit out. (you wouldn’t believe the loopholes people try to come up with!) You will receive the 4 inch mini-Munny decorated and artistically enhanced and signed by me…not the regular 7 inch or the jumbo 24 inch. Should you win, please be patient and allow several weeks for your finished product and your post. I got some serious deadlines for other artwork and I’m going on a long vacation in like five days so just chill out. Be cool. I will not flake on you, I promise. Please note that I don’t take bribes even for hot sex so stay out of my inbox with your promises of mind numbing blowjobs and analingus. Got it, saddletramp? Also, these contests are designed to honor my dedicated readers…but inevitably whenever I give away something peeps come out of the woodwork who never commented before and act like my best friend all of a sudden. (You know who you are!) I run honest contests so the true 5000th commenter will win, but should you win and if you are the type to barge in and only show me the love when I’m giving something away, then I may reserve the right to publicly call you out for what you are…a good for nothing freeloader who just wants me for my Munny. So think about that before you try to take the prize from my dedicated readers. Got it? Good!
Ok, I think I covered everything. Get crackalackin‘ on this! May the luckiest Daddy’s little girl…or boy win. And no matter who wins this thing…Daddy loves all y’all bitches. Even you. And you. And sometimes even you.
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