Breaking News: Sororities really do BLOW

Unfortunately I must take a break from the zany, day-brightening humor that I prefer to turn out to the millions (or 50) faithful readers of Officetan to rub my forefingers together and say "SHAME!" Shame on sororities! Apparently one of the Sorority's National Office/Chapter/Bitch Headquarters (whatever it's called) relieved 23 "sisters" from their sisterly duties at Delta Z for lack of commitment to demonstrating the values of the sorority (these aren't the exact words). Coincidently, these 23 "sisters" included those that were not-so-slender as well as the only black, Korean and one other non-white member in the ENTIRE sorority. Somebody pinch me, what year is it again? Thank goodness they got rid of these hooligans so that the others can continue to focus on coiffing their hair, growing their shoe collection, analyzing their one-night stands and counting their calories in peace. Oh! And we musn't forget that these are all very difficult things to do when you're trying to masquerade such important activities as community service. I know I'm stereotyping, I'm really not interested in being the "bigger" person here (we know how they feel about big people anyway). Many decent ladies have joined sororities just as a way to meet people. Let's not exercise such foolish logic any longer. Collectively (based on the behaviors of its leadership) these are hardly the type of people one needs to meet. Is it really that hard to come by a flock of friends at school that all enjoy getting dolled up, hooking up with undeserving boys, shopping and gossip? Probably not. And as an added bonus, if you find a group of friends on your own, it's completely free and there are no weigh-ins, essays, or ethnic background requirements. What a steal!

I Hope the Porn isn't Getting Old Yet

Hot and Bothered

Happy Monday! Even if you don't find this so humorous you may like to know that I had to walk around all day with boobs and balls on my fingers...

Media Analysis from Office Tan

Ok team, a couple of thoughts on the latest news coverage on Britney Spears…

#1 – If someone gets a haircut, it is not worthy of international news coverage EVER. If the media is short on stories, we at Office Tan have a few ideas. We try to think only happy thoughts here but we would like to remind the news outlets of a story that begins with “Dar” and ends with “Fur”. It is a lot more important than Britney’s beauty parlor accident.

#2 – The haircut actually looks kind of hot except that she’s got those alien ears. I don’t mind alien ears but Owfice Burn can’t stand them and won’t stop talking about them. Since I have the misfortune of being Owfice Burn’s best friend, I have had to endure endless commentary on why these ears are not as hot as other ears.

Would anyone mind taking a shift as a sounding board for Owfice Burn’s deep thoughts on attractive ear shapes?

Over and out,

Office Knight

Monday's Porn Offering

Monkey Love

CAUTION: DO NOT listen to this at your desk...there are some bad words (okay, it's all bad words) and we don't need anyone getting fired because of our blog...BUT I had to share this with you. Watch how someone's monkey baby totally cock blocks them by grabbing his cajones while the other monkey tries to get busy. With this kinda nonsense it's amazing there are any monkeys left.

Kicking Some Hijacker Ass

The Office Tan crew wishes that we had come up with such an awesome trick. We provide expert analysis where appropriate in the excerpted article below.

Bumpy landing foils plane hijacker
By Juan Manuel Pardellas, Associated Press Writer
Published: 17 February 2007
EXCERPTS

A quick-thinking pilot thwarted a gun-toting hijacker on a flight from Africa to Spain's Canary Islands by discreetly warning passengers he would brake hard upon landing, then speed up just as abruptly to knock the man off balance - and telling them to be ready to pounce, Spanish officials said yesterday.

The trick worked to perfection, with travelers and crew waiting until the hijacker was on the floor to douse him in the face and chest with boiling water from a coffee machine and beat him into submission.

The lone gunman brandishing two pistols hijacked the Air Mauritania Boeing 737, carrying 71 passengers and a crew of eight, shortly after it took off from the Mauritanian capital of Nouakchott for Gran Canaria, one of Spain's Canary Islands, with a stopover planned in Nouadhibou in northern Mauritania.

He wanted to divert the plane to France so that he could request political asylum, said Mohamed Ould Mohamed Cheikh, Mauritania's top police official.

Speaking to the gunman during the hijacking, the pilot realized the man did not understand French. So he used the plane's public address system to warn the passengers in French of the ploy he was going to try: slam on the brakes upon landing, then accelerate abruptly. The idea was to catch the hijacker off balance, and have crew members and men sitting in the front rows of the plane jump on him, the Spanish official said. (Office Tan would've wanted to be right there in the front row)

It worked. As the plane landed on Gran Canaria, the man was standing in the middle aisle when the pilot carried out his maneuver, and he fell to the floor, dropping one of his two 7mm pistols. Flight attendants then threw boiling water in his face and at his chest (THAT ROCKS!! The flight attendants rushed out with their coffee pot weapons!), and some 10 people jumped on the man and beat him, the Spanish official said.

"We were afraid. We thought it was people from al-Qaida or the Algerian GSPC who were going to cut our throats," said Aicha Mint Sidi, a 45-year-old woman who was on the plane. The GSPC is a Muslim extremist group. (Nah, he was just some idiot who wanted a free ride to France)

The hijacker was arrested by Spanish police who boarded the plane after it landed at Gando airport, outside Las Palmas. (How embarassing for him. He was probably all disheveled from his little squabble with all the people in the front row.)

The Day That Friendster Ruined Our Lives

I remember when I first heard about friendster.com. It seemed like a boring concept to me—that I could make up a personal profile complete with photos, a list of my hobbies etc and then my friends could link to me. Why would I need such a service when I had email for keeping in touch. But then it became kind of fun—if you had 30 first degree friends, you might have 2000 second degree friends and a zillion third degree friends. That seemed sort of interesting so I kept my profile.

As the months went by, Friendster hit the big time and it seemed that you could find almost anyone on Friendster. A quick search could yield long lost childhood friends, distant relatives and once in awhile you might even get a decent date out of it. Then of course, there were the other uses for Friendster that were rarely spoken of. You could secretly examine an ex’s profile for clues to her new life. Did she look happy in her photos? So soon, you might wonder. Did she have flirty testimonials from new people? Who the hell were they? Did she…lord forbid…suddenly change her status to “in a relationship”?

Or maybe there were people out there who had absolutely enchanted you in your one brief encounter. They too could be tracked. What kind of movies did they like, how old were they, did they like ice skating and eating celery with raisins just like you? Were they even single? Yep, you could check that through good old Friendster. And check and check and check, we did.

And then one day the world came crashing down.

Owfice Burn sent me a text message that said, “Friendster emergency.”

“Owfice Burn,” I said when I called her. “What is it?”

“On Friendster now, you can see who has been looking at your profile which means that all of the people you’ve been looking at can see what you’ve been doing.”

“Not funny,” I told her.

And so she urged me to log on to Friendster and sure enough, I could see a row of images of people who had been looking at me. That’s when I began to scream.

And as we called our friends, this scenario repeated itself. “Not funny,” they would say and then upon seeing the proof, they too would begin screaming. And soon enough, we were all screaming—all over the five boroughs, New York State, the Northeast, the South, Midwest and West Coast—we...were...howling. Our stalking, lurking, impulsive, compulsive searching ways were on naked display for our most sacred and secret loves to see.

We had been ruined.

And to this day, when I even hint at that awful day when we were shamed in the eyes of our unrequited loves, the response is always universal.

Said one woman, “Ah yes, it was the shot heard round the world.”

Said another who had gathered that night at Brooklyn bar Cattyshack to hold vigil, “It was like mayhem at Catty because everyone was stressed about eventually running into the randoms they’d been stalking.”

And all Office Tan can do at this point is file a class action lawsuit on behalf of all of us for pain and suffering and of course, the astronomical costs of hiring a search firm to help locate our collective missing dignity.

An Untimely Demise

She barely stood a chance, as she slipped through Office Knight's drunken fingers and struck the ground at about 4:00a.m. Ms. Slice-a-Pisa was brought into our world as quickly as she left it.

Donatella Versace Is in Big Trouble with Office Tan

U.S. presidential candidate Hillary Clinton should tap into her feminine side and wear dresses and skirts instead of trousers, fashion designer Donatella Versace was quoted as saying on Thursday.

At Office Tan, we believe in a woman’s right to choose her own style and further, we abhor that powerful women are routinely judged by their appearances while powerful men are free to look as butt as they want.

In response to Ms. Versace’s ignorant and old-fashioned sentiment, we could take the high road and publish an Office Tan academic paper on Donatella Versace’s role in the oppression of women. However, we prefer the low road and would like to make a few shallow judgments of our own. Let's begin.

Office Tan on Donatella Versace
In addition to her awful opinions, it appears that she is named after an adolescent Mutant Ninja Turtle. I suppose it’s fine to have a name that closely resembles that of a green cartoon character, however, if I were to find out that a cartoon turtle, sponge, rabbit, mouse etc was named Office Knight, I would quickly run to the courthouse and have my name changed to something more important sounding like Charlene. Charlene is an excellent name--much better than Donatella.


Office Tan on Dennis Hastert, Republican Congressman from Illinois, former Speaker of the House
Bottom line, he looks like his nutritional regimen consists of 6 kegs per day. If I were an image consultant and a reporter asked me to comment on Dennis Hastert’s appearance, I would eloquently say, “Red ties work best for him and he should stop looking so heart attack-y.”


Office Tan on Dick Cheney, Master of Darkness and Vice President of the United States
On the subject of heart attacks, I would say, “He needs to stop having so many damn heart attacks.” During the 2000 elections, Dick Cheney had to miss half the events because he kept having all of those heart attacks. And honestly, it’s just kind of embarrassing to have a heart attack twice a week. For lord's sake, stop eating bacon or donuts or whatever it is that is causing these problems! And yes, I know it’s not nice to make fun of people who have heart attacks, but Dick Cheney sort of deserves it after his leadership mishaps and his insistence on ruining everything.


Office Tan on Orrin Hatch, Republican Senator from Utah
Orrin Hatch was one of the ring leaders of Bill Clinton’s impeachment proceedings. And yes, we were all disappointed in Bill’s “critical lapse in judgment”. (Actually, we didn't really care) But Chris Rock said it best when he pointed out that some men are only as faithful as their options and, “Ain’t nobody trying to bl*w Orrin Hatch.” Exactly.

Desperately Seeking zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzs

In our pursuit of producing this award winning blog, we, the writers of Office Tan have not been sleeping enough. As a result, we have each made some unfortunate blunders. In no particular order...

Office Raider had just picked up a pair of her spikey bouffant heels from the shoe hospital when she accidentally threw them away during a routine disposal of her car garbage. May Office Raider's stilettos rest in peace.

I was walking to my favorite bagel store when I noticed Maggie Moo, the ice cream cow, standing in front of her namesake ice cream parlour. As I passed, I heard myself say to her, "Oh hey Maggie," like we're just cordial neighbor friends.

I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing that Owfice Burn has made a bunch of mistakes in these past few days. Owfice Burn makes lots of mistakes whether she gets plenty of sleep or not.

I accidentally brushed my teeth with Office Raider's free purple toothbrush that she got from her dentist. Because I am an outstanding sister, I promptly replaced her tusk scrubber with a brand new Duane Reade toothbrush.

Beyond these slip-ups, I've noticed that the intellectual quality of my conversations has deteriorated significantly. For instance, Owfice Burn managed to engage me in a heated debate over whether or not a hook is useful if one should suddenly lose one's hand. We finally were able to agree that a hook would be useful for picking up one's drycleaning. Beyond that, Owfice Burn declared that using a hook instead of a prosthetic hand is "so 1800's".

Dude, It's not your Musk

Since Valentines Day is approaching I thought we could explore some topics pertaining to love and relations, besides our porn posts. This post was inspired by a normally unwelcomed pop-up that caught my eye. It was an ad for some kind of synthetic pheromone product that boasts, "It Really Works!" I would hope that if you have escalated your "I-can't-get-ass" troubleshooting to pheromone therapy that you've exhausted all other dating resources such as:

Personal ads

Blind dates

Double-blind dates (this is when you're meeting someone that your friend found for you through another friend, in which case you're friend doesn't know either if this person is icky)

Find love sites like match & e-harmony

Find sex sites, masquerading as "networking" or "friends" sites such as Myspace and Craigslist

Dating someone you know you're not attracted to in hopes that maybe you'll change your mind

Getting a sense of someone's workout schedule and conveniently start working out the same body parts, at the same time as your crush...this one is so foolish, I've seen it. A classic is when someone goes from something like quads to triceps and then conveniently on to the kickboxing class that they you're joining

Dippin' into the co-worker pool

Meeting someone entirely disastrous "on paper" at a club and trying to get them to hang out with you during daylight hours without drugs or alcohol

Joining various hobby workshops in hopes that maybe some hot people also decided to take up pottery or cooking

Digging up an ex in hopes that "maybe things will be different"

Dating someone who's birth year started with the following numbers: 195, 196 when yours is 198 something

and finally...

Letting your parents set you up

Perhaps at this point you can justify resorting to such a ridiculous concept. I feel a need to highlight that if one truly believes that maybe all these methods failed because everyone just didn't dig their scent don't you think that maybe this person is just really lame? In which case, SHAME! Shame on the fake-pheromone makers for praying on the lame, I'm disgusted!

and then the lord delivered onto us a most ridiculous woman...

OFFICE KNIGHT
turns twenty nine...

here's to that last year.
that last year to...

"crash" at anybody's "pad",
have any furniture involving cinder blocks,
have any decorations involving non framed posters or tapestries
be on your parents cell phone family plan
have a name like "Katie" instead of the more grown-up "Kate" (special thanks to Tom Cruise for calling this to our attention)
have a jacked up myspace profile with photos of absurd escapades
crumple up parking tickets in hopes of city-wide computer malfunction
"roll out of bed" and run down the street with disheveled hair to avoid being late to one's place of employment
call anyone "dude"
get yelled at by "adults"

Office Tan Uncovers the Truth

Office Raider told me that she wants to go camping to uncover her inner-explorer so I have been assigned the task of finding an exciting trip for us to go on. Upon searching for a camping adventure, I came across a hiking club that takes trips throughout the tri-state area. It seemed like a good match so I began reading through the site when I came across the page on “trip preparation.” I thought it was going to list a bunch of gear that we’d have to buy but instead it had a whole section about how you have to stretch before you hike and train really hard in advance to have superior fitness.

Is hiking really that hard especially in the towering mountains of New Jersey? Isn’t hiking just glorified walking? If you’re out “hiking” and you suddenly cannot put one foot in front of the other, as is done in traditional walking, sit the hell down until you can again. Repeat these steps until you’re back at your car.

Upon learning that hiking was being embellished as an act of major endurance, we at Office Tan decided to uncover other activities that sound a lot fancier than they really are. The list includes…

“Presenting” at a meeting. Whenever anyone tells me they had to present at work, I imagine that they had to stand in front of a packed auditorium while waving a wand at some really smart equations. “Presenting” at work is actually just sitting in your chair and reading a sentence about what you’ve been doing every day for the last week.

Battling flames as a wildland firefighter is actually just banging large gardening tools around while foliage sizzles nearby.

If you are Owfice Burn, “lunging” at someone who you are very angry with is actually saying your sweetest hello and then engaging in enthusiastic and friendly conversation.

An Office Technology Solutions Specialist, Office Raider’s former profession, is actually a Copier Salesperson (Office Raider preferred the former title when describing her vocation to male suitors).

“Networking” is eating lots of dinners and having lots of drinks while cackling your head off in the presence of others who might someday help you get a new job, contract etc.

Eating at a “fancy” restaurant when one is not in a large urban area is dining at Olive Garden.

Being sooo “busy” when one is 87 years-old is rushing to and fro one’s bible study group, mowing one’s lawn over and over again and baking mushroom casseroles. We know this from observing the Office Tan grandparents.

Playing rugby equals legally mugging people (JUST KIDDING!!) Playing rugby is precision, finesse, endurance and strength and it is only performed by fabulous people.

Being a “Producer” in Los Angeles is ordering lunch and some chairs for your friend’s cheap-o 10 minute film.

Speaking of LA, being a production assistant in Los Angeles is having to make pool water wiggle for a film scene. That was my extremely important job when I lived there. And I made zero dollars per day while doing this which equates to zero dollars per hour and exactly zero dollars per minute. It was lucrative.

ALERT: Effective Coping Strategy

I know I slacked a little on my ingenious posts this week, but this week really kinda sucked. That's a bit dramatic, because there was nothing really wrong with it except for I was extremely busy, gawd fah-bid. So anyway, as I was busy whoa-as-me-ing I thought of some other creatures who have it WAAAAAAAAAYYY worse. For example, what if I were a bee? Bees have a really rediculous existence, courted for their vomit, they live in a weird flaky thing that hangs in a tree. The end of their life is often prompted by an out of control temper that compells them to poke someone which ultimately kills them. What about if I were a skunk? That's another unfortunate creature. Imagine if you had a juvenile deliquent's hair style at all times and your only conflict resolution strategy is to make other things stink. How about a roach? Everyone hates you and your entrance into a room is usually followed by frantic screams and often your last breath is taken while watching a Ked come down on your back (who wears Keds?). Being a turtle doesn't sound so hot either. Everyone seems to be obsessed with the fact that you're really slow and when you get scared your only recourse is to stick your head inside your weird permanent outfit. I think everyone's got the idea.

hey, i can dream can't i?

lately, my brother and i (we'll call him 'office butterfly' because he's a nature boy and..well, because it sounds funny)

soooo, lately office butterfly and i have been scheming of ways to 'get rich' (my idea) and 'save the planet' (his idea). we have been brainstorming, trying to merge the two in to an eco-friendly empire....a composting empire...a recycling empire..a green architecture empire. (my eyes are lighting up with each mention of the word empire..) then office butterfly comes up with the best idea yet... drum roll... A LLAMA FARM EMPIRE! (now you better not steal our damn idea becaws i'm an attorney and yes i will litigate you! i just love using litigate as a verb..)

so moving along..we decide YES to a llama empire and start our research immediately. we'll have a little farm in upper westchester, sell the wool and milk them or something. it's gonna be verrry lucrative and i can already tell you are extremely jealous. so we decide to tell our dad about the idea. he loves being involved just so that he can act annoyed like its the 80's and say stuff like, "i'm not gettin you a damn llama! i got you that dawg murphy and have neva once seen you walk huh. fug-et it!" so, in usual form my dad says, "well who the hell is gonna pick up afta it?" I'm like, office Butterfly said he would!! I 'll help too!" Mind you, office butterfly and i are like in our damn 30's...

well, next thing i know.. we catch my dad googling llamas! and he is outraged at their price "$15 GRAND for a damn llama! Fug-et it!" But then i mention that Office Knight/ Raider's dad (who's office is a zoo..yes you heard me!)could hook us up with a llama or two at a very low price. He LOVES a bargain...and perks up saying, "yeahh..like how much? would he take say $500 bucks?" ...now this seems to have turned into a used car sale negotiation. a situation in which my dad always prides himself on "gettin' a good deal."

So i think i am going to see how far this goes.. and maybe next week i'll be blogging about my glamerous and lucrative career as a llama farmer!

-owfice burn