All Tied Up in Pink Ribbon

If you have to use a color for your business/cause/marketing, could you not use my favorite color?

Okay, so this isn’t a rant against Susan B. Komen per se, but OH. MY. GOODNESS. I can’t buy a pink pen without it being festooned with a ribbon. Essentially, if you are over the age of seven and want to purchase anything (ANYTHING) for yourself in pink, you’ll be supporting breast cancer (or not supporting it, or supporting an organization that supports it?). Komenitis hasn’t yet affected baby clothes, but that’s probably coming soon.

Want a pink umbrella? Sorry…you’ll have to buy this one with a ribbon on it. Pink water bottle? Ribboned. Pink sports equipment? ALL RIBBONED.

The only safe place left is Victoria’s Secret PINK–a store at which one can purchase many unribboned, rosy-hued items that are plastered with the word PINK, and that’s a lot better than SUSAN B. KOMEN BREAST CANCER SOMETHING RACE FOR CURE RIBBON BOOYAH SOMETHING greeting everyone from your backside. Also at VS PINK, you can buy a neon green shirt that says PINK because THEY ARE UNBOUND BY COLOR NORMS. (It’s also the best place in the universe to study for a Stroop test. Ya with me, psychology pals?)

Imagine if a testicular cancer awareness organization (Susie B. Scrotum Foundation) exploited the heck out of the color blue. Blue jeans would be BALL JEANS. Instead of those stupid “Check your boobs” t-shirts, we’d see “Rub my nuts” t-shirts. Men’s running shoes would have ribbons all over them. And EVERY GOLF ITEM WOULD HAVE A RIBBON ON IT. Now all of those golf euphemisms would really make sense! …I think I’ll stop there.

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Leaving Scranton (Out of the Office)

If you have to leave an out of office message on your work email, try to have a sense of humor. I mean, really, no one reads these things anyway, but for the three people who do… Well, you might get a good reply if you write something like this:

I’m out of the office for the rest of the afternoon. Please contact [name] if you need assistance before my return.

If this an emergency, dial 911. This is not an offer to buy or sell securities, void where prohibited, stand behind the white line while bus is in motion, batteries not included, deliberate concentration and inhalation of contents may be harmful or fatal, call before you dig, slippery when wet, consuming raw or undercooked meat may increase your risk of foodborne illness, ring bell for service, do not expose to heat or flame

League Math

If you have to hit on/flirt with/make eyes at a woman, make sure a) she’s available, b) she wants you to flirt with her, and c) she is well within your league. The first two should be stupidly obvious. I don’t feel I need to elaborate.

However, when it comes to c, there’s something you may not know. …Now, get ready. I’m about to reveal an uncomfortable truth. Hope you’re sitting down.

When an unattractive man (let’s say a 2) hits on an attractive woman (9), she gets upset. She’s not upset because a guy hit on her. She’s mad because a 2 hit on her. (Are you with me so far?) Clearly, a 2 shouldn’t bother hitting on a 7, let alone a 9. (What would be the point? That’s far out of his league!) In this example, in her mind, the best case scenario is that this 2 has a stretch goal of bagging a 5. And if the 2 thinks the 9 is a 5, he has just dealt a huge blow to her self-esteem.

League math. It’s a real thing.

This is also one of the reasons why the overwhelming majority (87%, according to a survey I just made up) of sexual harassment cases are brought against ugly dudes. Of course, more attractive men probably don’t have to try as hard as their less attractive counterparts… But really, ugly dudes thinking they have a shot with attractive women? It’s insulting, counterintuitive antiscience.

Gourmet Gore

If you have to post a picture (of anything, but we’ll just talk about food here) with something that sounds like a captionbrag, please just be honest. Be honest with us… and, perhaps most importantly, be honest with yourself.

You aren’t fooling anyone… Lightly smoked ranch alfredo caresses delicate strands of angelhair pasta means you dumped the leftover bbq and ranch sauces from your chicken McNuggets on top of some ramen noodles.

Be honest. Greenish glop and brownish paste mingle with dribbly white goo in an ironed tortilla surrounding overcooked rice, cheeselike product, and something resembling meat. You’re obviously talking about the grilled stuft burrito from our good friends at Taco Bell. See the difference? It’s effective, direct, and not misleading.

Sold in Spite of You

If you have to talk about something your business offers, don’t discuss it as if it’s something you own or really have anything to do with besides hocking it in a store, in a restaurant, or on television. I literally just watched a meteorologist say on tv, “I’ve got temps in the 60s coming to you next week.” Sorry, lady who looks very uncomfortable in her dress and is wearing way too much makeup, YOU don’t make the weather, you don’t BRING it to us, and (fun fact that’s beside the point, but it bears mentioning…) YOU’RE JUST GUESSING WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN.

It’s like when you go to a restaurant and the waiter says, “I’ve got two soups today: a cream of mushroom and also a roasted chrysanthemum with puréed pine bark and broiled frog kidney.” Sorry, Edward, but unless you’re ALSO the chef or are otherwise the originator of the dishes, you do not “have” them if you did not MAKE them. The restaurant has them. Chef Ronaldo in the kitchen “has” them.

Also, when the clueless little douche in the electronics store says, “I have a special promotion with [insert wireless carrier name here] for unlimited texting,” I just want to throatpunch him. Think he’ll be able to give the next customer the hard sell when his windpipe has fused with his spine?

Note that I have no problem sharing in the ownership, as Billy does have a stake (whether it be commission or simply being employed at the store) in the transaction. He can say “we,” “us,” and “our.” Examples:

a) We offer a phone by Samsung.
b) Our service plan covers battery replacement.
…and even…
c) I think you’ll enjoy our nitrogen-injected dielectric cables. (Billy is allowed to have an opinion, ridiculous as it might be.)

If you’re selling fake Rolexes out of your trench coat while standing in front of the Statue of Liberty, feel free to tell me that you’ve got a deal on a faux Gucci. I’ll accept that it’s YOUR deal and not that of your employer (is that like a “watch pimp” or something?).

Don’t Be a CC:wad

If you have to send a condescending/rude/not nice email to a coworker in another department, think twice before you cc: the coworker’s boss. You might find yourself on the receiving end of a scalding reply from your coworker’s boss–with YOUR manager ON THE TO: LINE.

It’s common courtesy and business etiquette here, folks, and this is a pretty easy way to affix a huge red target on your own back.

If, on the other hand, you’re NOT a complete wad, and you want to write something nice/complimentary/un-wadlike to someone and copy his/her boss, do so with my blessing.

Confabulating in the Can

If you have to take your phone into a public restroom, could you just not answer it while you’re in there? And don’t MAKE phone calls, either. You can go into a stall and TEXT ALL DAY if you want to, but don’t have a verbal conversation with your cousin Julia about what appetizer she’s bringing to the poker game Friday night.

Should you be the idiot that tries to test me on this, rest assured that I will try to figure out what types of sounds I can force my body to make on command. Also, I will flush as many toilets as possible for the duration of your phone call.

If you get upset and leave the bathroom without washing your hands, I will knock you down by any means I deem reasonable and cover you with the contents of a bottle of hand sanitizer.

I’m not a fan of speaking in public restrooms anyway, as I don’t want to overhear your conversation with your BFF (omg ❤ ❤ forevs!) about any of your bodily functions. How is it possible that you can't keep it to yourself until you get outside?!

In closing, don't be offended, ladies, when I don't say hello to you in the bathroom. If I make eye contact, I'll give you the obligatory head nod, but let's save the gabbing for outside the indoor latrine.