Taxes to Taxes

Since I've been broke due to crappy recession bonuses this year I have to file my tax return ASAP, to get my own money back, to pay my property taxes. What fucking vicious circle. Since I don't trust people, because most them are gross, I use Turbotax. Sacopapa did scare me a bit this week with his government conspiracy rant against Turbotax, but I'd rather risk Stormtroopers at my house rather than trust a South Florida accountant. Plus Sacopapa believes every conspiracy in the book anyway.

So hopefully this efile shit works quickly so I can turn around and pay my property taxes before I get a visit from the Broward Sheriff. Plus now with Obama being all defiant, it surely seems I won't be getting my beloved stimulus check again in 2010. Shit sucks. I am the Robotman.

What the Fuck Tuesday

I am starting a new series here on the Robotman Blog. It is "What the Fuck". For my first edition I will discuss fashion trends....

Klogs, Clogs, Crocs, whatever the fuck you call them. What is up. I see people with these things everywhere. Supermarkets, restaurants, Wal-Mart (of course), airplanes, and a host of other places. Even some nurses are in on the act. If I owned a hospital it would be back to the white uniforms. Shit is out of control. I just don't get it.

Really, unless you are under 9 years old and near a swimming pool you have no business wearing these fucking things. Well maybe if they are made of wood and you live in Holland in 1840. Is it a fashion statement? Are they cool in some way that I cannot comprehend? Did you just give up on life? Back in the day in Jersey you wouldn't walk a block before you got your ass kicked for wearing that shit.

What the fuck. I am the Robotman.

End of the Holidays

Happy New Year to all. For my first post of the year I will use a reprint from the old My Wife Hates Me blog. Things haven't changed all that much.

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The holidays have past. Another year is upon me. The holidays were pretty much the usual spend-a-credit-a-thon this year. I went to parties where I don’t know a bunch of the people and seem to always end up near some person I just met a few hours before. Seems an awkward time to meet someone, “Hello there, I’m Joe Knucklehead and work at the cheese factory, oh and by the way Merry Christmas”. “Hey, Bob Fuckface, the cement salesman, happy fucking new year”. Sheesh.

There was an added monkey wrench this holiday season with my dryer and the Best Buy repair team, but I will leave that sordid tale for another day. For now, let’s just say that Mr. Brad Anderson, CEO of Best Buy, knows me and my dryer works.

One thing, with teenagers, the Christmas lists do get easy. Here is the whole list: 1.CASH. No beating around the bush for my offspring. My wife is a bit more complicated, as it’s a mix of cash, gifts, obedience, and yet another thin slice of my soul. Not too bad. I did receive a few nice gifts from the wife and kids that I paid or will pay for. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.

I did have a few days off work during the holidays and still have a couple before I go back, and as they say a bad day doing pretty much anything else besides work is still better than a good day at work. Then it’s back to the cubicle and business trips where I must serve and plan for the interest of others in exchange for monetary payments until the corporate gods decide that I have become too old and/or too expensive. Now, the “current economic conditions…” announcements and e-mails now add to the long list of weekly bullshit of synergy, products, and budget planning. One of these days that Vietnam Vet/NRA supporter a few cubicles away is going to snap and shoot half the people in the place. I told him to let me know and I’ll call in sick that day. He said he would. There is this guy in my office who keeps saying “happy new year” to people on the phone until the end of January. I even tell him it’s annoying as shit, but he thinks I’m joking. Hopefully Vietnam guy takes him out on rampage day.

That’s all the time I have for now, since I’m the automated taxi and cash dispenser, I have to go pick up my 14 year old daughter at the roller rink and have some skinny 14 year old boy with pimples attempt to direct some feeble and nervous greeting towards me as my daughter gets in the car. I am the Robotman.

Meetings about Meetings

Earlier this week I was at a meeting about meetings (MAM) at work in which people discuss which meeting they had or will be attended since the last MAM , and remembered a piece I wrote about meetings last year for My Wife Hates Me. Here is an edited version, all still 100% unbelievable yet true.

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They really love to have meetings where I work. I work for a fairly large foreign company with offices all over the world, and don’t know 100% if it’s particular to them, same in Corporate USA, or it’s just company culture but they really, really, like to have meetings. Budget meetings, product meetings, inventory meetings, HR meetings, formal meetings, informal meetings, video conference meetings, security meetings, staff meetings, birthday cake meetings, the list is just really endless. There are hundreds of different types of meetings. There are smaller meetings to plan for the bigger meetings. It’s truly a miracle any work even gets done with all these meetings. This doesn’t even include major company events, which requires multiple meetings that are held about the upcoming event.

There are also these really weird meetings called "brainstorming meetings”, if you have never been to one, I hope you never do, and if you have, I’m so very sorry. Usually the guys that need a punch in the face and says "synergy" alot talk the most at these, and annoying chicks that talk fast also like these meetings very much. (My company USA HQ in NJ, so there is no shortage of the latter). At the HQ in Jersey all they do is have meetings. The whole fucking place, like 800 people including top brass can be eliminated and substituted by a weekly e-mail from Tokyo. The company would save millions. I have yet to openly suggest this at a meeting. I’m biding my time on that one.

I was at my most recent meeting, wintergreen Tic Tacs in hand (between the light shaking sounds of the container and a refreshing Tic Tac in your mouth at all times, it’s much harder to fall asleep). It was a four hour Building and Cubicle Security and Safety meeting with a guest speaker old lady reading a power point presentation out loud word for word, like I can’t read. Fucking Romper Room. If I didn’t know personally, I would think this was a fictional event. We had a pre-meeting for this with the whole office like 2 days before and had a team of 4 people, which thankfully I was not part of, have of a bunch of prep meetings for this fucking thing. Seems having a case of bottled water, doughnuts, and a projector is fucking mission impossible.

After it was over, still dizzy from the incessant cackle of this old hag, I am reminded by some nitwit about the product meeting in five minutes, so we can discuss some new product that does the same shit as the last one. Gotta pay that mortgage somehow. I am the Robotman.

Ten Commandments for Assholes

This piece was originally published on "My Wife Hates Me" which is in kind of limbo, but check it out, there is some very funny shit on there.
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Every fucking day you go out and there are assholes everywhere. Though many I believe are unintentional, they just don’t know they are assholes. Here are an easy 10 tips to follow to not be such an asshole. (Please picture Chartlon Heston reading aloud).Please feel free to recommend commandments.

Ten Commandments for Assholes

1. Mind your own business. This one is paramount and self explanatory. Really just the key to humanity.

2. Shut the fuck up. Silence is golden. You just can’t go wrong if you apply this shining nugget of advice. It goes very well with #1.

3. Do not block public areas ever, for any reason. This includes by your person, your vehicle, your stuff, your idiocy, whatever. Do not impede others. For example, if you hate abortion, that’s cool just don’t block the fucking sidewalk I am using.

4. Don’t touch anyone ever, without their permission. This may or may not apply to Strippers in a Strip Club since you may very well likely already be considered an asshole there.

5. Don’t touch anyone’s stuff ever, without their permission.

6. Don’t step on anyone’s property ever, without their permission.

7. Don’t make loud noise in or near public areas. Your fucking gay cell phone conversations about the shipment of clock radios doesn’t interest me, fuckface.

8. Control your children in public. Do whatever you have to do. Lock them in cages in the attic if you can't handle them. I will be following rule #1 if you decide to smack the shit out of them for breaking rules 1-7.

9. Use turn signals and merge properly. Enough already with the retarded driving.

10. Return things that are lent to you without being reminded by the lender. Really just a basic courtesy, practiced by so very, very few.


Hope these tips come in handy, feel free to print them out and put on your fridge and throughout your workplace. I am the Robotman.