Re: Eloquent Graffiti.

Everyone:

It has been brought to my attention by the people on the third floor that someone is writing 'fingerbang' inside the elevator. This person is writing it with his/her spit on the stainless steel walls - I know this because I've not only witnessed this person in action, but I have also tried to write the word myself...but ran out of spit.

I assured the people upstairs that no one in our office would do such a thing and that they should take their grievances to the fourth and fifth floors. That being said, I will not ask that the composer of such a great word cease, but instead request that he/she continue on in a less noticeable spot in the elevator - perhaps, above or to the left or right of the door, instead of at eye level. This is just a suggestion - you have no idea what it's like to be asked by someone my mom's age if I've seen the 'fingerbang action in the elevator' - I could only smile and think: I wish.

Thanks!

Mandy.

Re: The Old In-Out, In-Out.

EVERYONE:

I feel like I need to address this issue all the time - definitely several times a week with a few of you - but we really (like really really absolutely) need to be more diligent about signing in and out on the time clock computer.

The time clock doesn't exist for only some people - you are all obligated to sign in and out. I'm so sick of the following excuses:

"But I've worked here forever!" (you shouldn't be bragging about this by the way)

"English no my first language!" (if you can't even read your own name on the time clock, then...I'm not even going to say it...)

"But I'm commission only!" (So? We still need to know if you're showing up everyday)

As I've already discovered, high IQs are not prevalent in the office...so I'm not expecting much, but if you can't follow this simple rule, then something will have to be done...I'm not sure what, but I assure you it will be bad, and you won't like it. Perhaps, public humiliation? That usually works...

Thanks.

Jennie Klein's Quote of the Day.

While enjoying the space heater under her desk this morning, Jennie Klein became concerned:

 "My heater is so hot...I'm scared I might be getting a sunburn on my legs."

Re: Boys Only.

Everyone:

I'm really sick of you people hanging around my desk and demanding things of me. I'm sick of hearing pointless stories about your weekends, your sexual conquests and how you bought yet another pair of boring black shoes from Banana Republic on sale. I don't care, sorry, but I don't.

Going forward, no one will be allowed to hang around at my desk for any reason, unless they are a funny, well-dressed boy: more specifically Clifford or Christoffer. If you do not fall into the category of being either one of these people, please steer clear of my desk...forever.

Thank you!
Mandy.

Re: Welcome to Grody Town (Population: 1).

People:

Based on the bathroom manners of some of the women in here, I’m starting to assume that outside the city the rest of the world just doesn’t have toilets as we know them. I’m envisioning piles of hay, or maybe just little holes in the ground for both the men and women to stand over and drop their, er, stuff…

I’m not going to get into the details, nor the color, nor the substances that I’ve seen on and around the toilet seat whenever I am unfortunate enough to use the loo after one of you darlings in particular (the ugly, angry, bovine-looking one), but I am going to apologize now for the scathing note I’m about to post on the bathroom stall doors. I know who the mess belongs to, and before the boys in our office our subjected to similar profane sights, I’m going to post the same scathing note in their restroom too. How dare the rest of the world say Americans are uncivilized?! The audacity! We at least know where it’s acceptable to shit and piss! (Actually, below the Mason-Dixon line they’re pretty much animals, so there is some verity to that belief, and as a New Englander I can state this to be fact.)

So please disregard the vulgar, and terrifyingly rude note that I’m about to hang in clear view of anyone who uses the toilet.

Thanks!
Ms. Pants.

Re: Marla's Last Day.

People:

Today is Marla's last day! Apparently she's an intern, and honestly, I don't know who she is either. However, this will not stop us from throwing down like we do, eating cake and loving it.

The witty, yet pointless-in-meaning card is up at my desk for everyone to sign; and the usual policy applies: no sign, no cake.

Cake at 3pm!

Thanks.

Addictive Impulse Messaging.

JMK82: oh, at lunch jack and i played your game - the one about boys!

mandyheartshubbell: you mean jack's game. i just play along.

JMK82: it's hard to rate boys 1 to 10 and not be allowed to repeat ratings, but it could be a fun game - we were just in a bad spot.

mandyheartshubbell: there's no such thing as a 'good spot' in nyc. too many people. too many weirdoes.

JMK82: well, we were not in washington sq park - i want to play there.

mandyheartshubbell: it's not going to happen there either.

JMK82: you need to be more equal opportunity like me!

mandyheartshubbell: no thanks. and you're not equal opportunity - you're only into the jews.

JMK82: not true. i've been venturing out (kind of). i like the jews, but we all have to be open minded - you never know.

mandyheartshubbell: i would never date a jew.

JMK82: ahole. stop judging the chosen people. you know nothing.

mandyheartshubbell: but i would never date a catholic either - or a southerner, or a brit, or a baldy, or a boy who wears white socks

JMK82: you are picky and will miss out.

mandyheartshubbell: or a boy with lots of body hair or with big spaces between his teeth

JMK82: oh wow. what else?

mandyheartshubbell: or a boy with piercings or feminine hands or webbed feet

JMK82: what about personality? i think you're forgetting about that - bc i care more about personality.

mandyheartshubbell: doesn't matter how great his personality is, if he has webbed feet, honey

JMK82: EW! you're so shallow.

mandyheartshubbell: ew. you want to date someone with webbed feet.

JMK82: most dudes do not have webbed feet - this is not the bronx zoo!

mandyheartshubbell: you would totally date a boy with webbed feet, if he had a great personality.

JMK82: at least i would be getting some.

mandyheartshubbell: yea, with duck boy.

JMK82: you're an ahole.

mandyheartshubbell: quack. quack.

Re: The DC Pirate.

People:

There appears to be a DC pirate loose in the office. On several occasions Jennie Klein and myself have brought in six packs of DC only to watch them disappear in a rate that far exceeds are own consumption of them. If you love the DC as we do, fine, but you really shouldn't run around swiping what does not belong to you.

Jennie Klein is prepared to unleash a full investigation of the missing DCs starting with the trash cans under every one's desk. I have also sent a very similar email to the Brits next door, but considering they're more of an Earl Grey and Newcastle drinking lot, I'm pretty sure they're not the culprits.

Thanks!

Jennie Klein's Quote of the Day.

While talking with her fellow coworkers about their queues on Netflix and the bad movies we secretly love, Jennie Klein yelled out: "Why are we hiding it?! That's why we have friends!"

Jennie Klein's Quote of the Day.

Back in March when Eliot Spitzer was forced to resign, and legally blind governor David Paterson was sworn into office, the following conversation took place between Jennie Klein and her fellow coworkers:

Jennie: I don't understand how we can have a blind governor.

Clifford: It's not like he's mentally challenged! When Jennie speaks to a blind person she talks really slow...

Mandy: And Loud!

Everyone Except Jennie: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Re: Basement Bob for Real.

Everyone:

It pains me to confirm that Basement Bob does actually live in the basement. Yesterday, as I brunched on a very delectable lobster Benedict, I was confronted by a sorry, stinky sight: Bob.

Basement Bob actually had the audacity to come up to our table and try to engage me in conversation. It was Sunday around 1130am and since it was the weekend, and he definitely is no longer the super of the building, he really didn't need to be in the neighborhood. After being very short with him, and being embarrassed beyond repair that the fellow diners thought I knew this homeless looking person, I was able to shoo him away. As I watched, Bob wandered into the office building, alone and sad on a Sunday, when he should have been getting a free meal from some unwilling family member.

Bob was dressed in his usual attire of torn and stained apparel that was probably purchased for him back in 1976; and he carried with him a clear plastic bag that contained only a small sandwich and a Snapple beverage.

That being said, we absolutely must lock up all laptops and cameras on the weekend. Granted, Bob wouldn't know how to even turn on a computer, but still...if we don't lock them up, it will just be a matter of time before we come in and things are broken or gone.

Thanks!