How’s Your Office Space Goy Slave?

Rich and Keith on the Truth Militia Radio show have bought up the film “Office Space” quite regularly of late. It’s a 1999 classic by Mike Judge on the modern “office” work lifestyle. I fucking love this movie… It’s piss funny and it nails the “office job” types who go to work every week, 9 to 5, to sit in a fucking cubicle and do nothing…..

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I think I first saw Office Space around 2007 or ’08 when I was at the end of my fantastic 10 month stint as an Office Slave…….

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Being an office slave is an absolutely positively soul-destroying experience. I remember I got started working at the shithole and learnt everything I needed to know after about 4 weeks of “training”… Basically teaching me which documents and figures needed to be copy pasted where… That was my job….. I had done a 2 year fucking Diploma in Accounting to do this?…. Now I was “successful”. Every little bit of study had paid off… I was supposed to be happy knowing I had “Job Security” and that I was contributing to make a multi-national insurance company more profit…… Fuck that!

After 3 months or so I got really fucking bitter towards the job. Jeez I fucking hated it…. I was working with all the typical office creatures just like out of “Office Space”! There were the fat women complaining about having to walk up 14, yes, 14 steps to get to our 1st floor cubicle level… There was the one who did everything by the book and followed all the rules and complained constantly about any potential breach of anything… God it was annoying…. There were even the super smug “male in his 50’s” types who actually get a kick out of sending the lamest bullshit emails around the whole bloody office! My manager was so fat he would be a mass of sweat walking the 200 metres or so from the carpark area to his big fat person office… He would then sit in there all fucking day, only ever getting up to make enormous sugary cups of coffee, or to get biscuits and sandwiches…. Unbelievable…. He even emailed me asking me an informal question once when his office was about ten (flat) steps away from me!!!!

Office-Space....

These fatties became a great motivating factor for me to get out of the office as much as possible during the day. If a job delivering a few documents came up I volunteered instantly…. I’d get to do the roaming around town and the fat fuckers could cancel their courier costs!! Win-win hey! At lunch I’d take an extra half hour toward the end as I knew no-one paid any attention when I came and went. That meant I could drive off to the hills and do a 7km run, get changed, drive back to the slave hole, all within an hour and a half! Success! It was the only way I felt any better about the endless sitting involved…..

I vividly remember waltzing in one day after running at lunch, taking a long gaze at everyone just sitting there pretending to work, and thinking about how pathetic they all were, and how much I hated them…. I could not stand these useless lazy fucking slaves… They were “happy” doing their cubicle slave work, and they probably didn’t care if they died working there…. It was amazing that people could be so dead while still technically being alive… Existing, not living, is a better way to put it….

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Weekly meetings were so boring and pointless I just sat around making stupid sarcastic comments every now and then, in between drawing shit….. I decorated my whole stale cubicle area around my computer with Clash, Sex Pistols, Johnny Cash, Pink Floyd posters. The complete fucking works I gave it! I figured if I have to spend 8 hours a fucking day sitting there, I’m going to look at whatever the fuck I feel like!! I got in trouble for over-decorating, for using headphones while copy pasting, for using 18 times the entire departments internet allowance….. and for “racism” once…. and I didn’t even mean whatever I said, but someone took something the wrong way at some meeting…. They were so uptight and touchy….

I eventually quit after it became apparent that I’d turned into a vicious hateful monster (no joke) to be around… Family and friends all noticed how horrible I started behaving….. I only noticed after I left and regained mental sanity! This is what happens when you become Peter Gibbons…. You are like an animal trapped in a mentally torturous machine…. Humans were not meant to sit in cubicles all day, to quote “Office Space”…

office-spaceAbove: this is how you deal with that fucking PC load-letter….. What the fuck is PC load-letter anyway??!! hahaha

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After you quit, you have a thousand beers and think: “Fuckin “A” Man”!!! (no more office work!)

If you haven’t seen “Office Space”, then see it. If you have, then see it again! It’s like a trip down “office-torture-memory-lane” for me… At least you know it’s not real when it’s a movie… Phewwww!

– Brett DL1983

Friday Night – Jukebox (7/6/13)

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Johnny Cash – Info

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6jgkeJBvrk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwOEFRO3l1Y

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lWsuVuw5JO4

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If you don’t like it – Swivel on it Fuckers!! ha haha

And to finish this small Jukebox selection off: a fine ‘lil Irish Tune to get ya goin’! A few pints of Guinness and you’ll be dancing and tappin’ the night away!!

Van+Morrison

I’ll tell me Ma when I go home,
The boys won’t leave the girls alone.
They’ll pull my hair, they stole my comb,
Well that’s alright till I go home.

[Chorus]
She is handsome. She is pretty.
She is the bell of Belfast City.
She is courtin’ one, two, three.
Please won’t you tell me, who is she?

Albert Mooney say’s he loves her.
All the boy’s are fighting for her.
They knock at the door and ring at the bell
Sayin’ “Oh my true love, are you well”?
Out she comes as white as snow,
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes.
Ole Jenny Murray says she’ll die
If you don’t get the fella
With the roving eye.

Let the wind and the rain and hail blow high
And the snow come tumbling from the sky,
She’s as nice as apple pie.
She’ll get her own lad by and by.
When she gets a lad of her own,
She won’t tell her Ma when she gets home.
Let them all come as they will
For it’s Albert Mooney she loves still.

I’ll tell me Ma when I go home,
The boys won’t leave the girls alone.
They’ll pull my hair, they stole my comb,
Well that’s alright till I go home.

Peace Maaaan! As a stinkin’ hippie would say! Ha ha ha

– BDL1983