I deserve a big BIG promotion!

No really!  Okay, I'll admit it ... As a superbly intelligent, cool, fit and sophisticated cat, I have to concede that I am an expert at what I do. Even my closest cat friends and acquaintances have to agree (or I'll knock them into next week) that I am a legend. It makes for perfect sense then that I am an obvious candidate for promotion. But, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work it hasn't happened yet.

WHY?

Yes, I know, life isn't fair, but, think of the possibilities .. could I further my exceptional career by helping out in the office; taking calls, writing and sending quotes, filing and all that weird human stuff. I have discounted this illustrating drawing stuff as it looks very intricate and frankly boring to do - I'd never get a chance to patrol the garden, and beat up some of those pesky critters... Also, I don't think I'd want to do it even if I could bring myself to touch one of those artificial mouse/mice things ... UGH!!  I tried to eat one once, it was disgusting, and must have been dead a long time, as it was hard as a rock, black and rigamortis had obviously set in way back! Anyway, these daft human mouse clones are useless; they don't even have tails!

Anyway, it was whilst I was thinking about this, you know pondering the strange and frankly foolish criteria humans seem to use to decide who gets promotion: human likes, dislikes and strange unpredictable spontaneous human intuition seem to play a large part in the process - from what I've heard.

So, how do bosses choose who to promote?

Being a smart cat, I've done some research whilst pretending to flatten a crumpled copy of New Scientist. Turns out that three Italian researchers have been awarded the 2010 Ig Nobel prize in management for demonstrating mathematically that organisations would become more efficient if they promoted people at random! No, I am serious!

Not having met them, I'll be kind and grudgingly forgiving here: Alessandro Pluchino, Andrea Rapisarda and Cesare Garofalo of the University of Catania, Sicily, calculated how a pick-at-random promotion scheme compared with other more usual human methods for deciding the company pecking order. Apparently, they based their work on the Peter Principle – the notion that many people are promoted, sooner or later, to positions that drastically overreach their levels of competence. I was sure I had read this theory before, and checked ... Yes! The study by Phelan and Lin had hinted at this approach a few years earlier.

Phelan and Lin wanted to see whether, over the long haul, it payed best to promote people on their tested competence as a supposed measure of how 'good' an individual is at performing their assigned task. Or on an "up or out" basis (either you get promoted quickly or you get fired!), or by seniority (live a long time and, by that measure alone, you will work your way up the career cliff face). 

As a control - I suppose you could call it, "this-is-as-bad-as-it-could-possibly-get alternative", they also looked at what happened when you promoted people completely at random. 

Boy, did they get a surprise! Randomly promoted individuals "actually performed much better" than almost every other chosen method. Phelan and Lin were shocked, appalled and horrified by what they had discovered. Indeed, they were so appalled by what they had stumbled on, they duly hid the results in a mountain of words, and then went on to other things... As is so typical of humans, Pluchino, Rapisarda, and Garofalo would later, polish and publicize this discovery for the world to admire.

What a laugh! 

It's even funnier as it's honestly true and I almost split my sides when I read that after this discovery, some chap based in Maastricht (of all places) deduced that an even larger improvement could be accomplished by randomly choosing the people who made the decisions to promote - anyone from the janitor to the CEO, and everyone in between.

Later, an even greater impact was observed when it was decided to choose external decision makers that had absolutely nothing to do with the organisation!!!

Boy, you couldn't make this up!

Mmm ... all this means is that my chances are good, even great: with just a few candidates, my statistical chances of promotion are FANTASTIC! ... as long as they don't choose that next door flea-bag Squitts to carry out the decision making ... he can't tell his left paw from his right! But, that's a story for another day...

Yawn ... back to the world of work and prawny dreams.

Goodnight suckers...

ZZ ZZ ZZ ZZZ zzz zzz zzz zzz       ZZ ZZ ZZ ZZZ zzz zzz zzz zzz       ZZ ZZ ZZ ZZZ zz zz zz

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com

Grumpy, Cynical... Moi ???

Just lately, I have had quite a bit of feedback (well tons) accusing me of being really grumpy and cynical! Blasted cheek!! Moi!!

Well smarty pants, it turns out that feeling grumpy is good for you... well certainly me, of course. Although to be totally honest, it may not be good for those around you.. er, I mean me.

According to some swatty psychology Professor, an attack of the grumps can help you communicate better and makes you think more clearly. So that explains my vast intellect!

In contrast to those really annoying happy types, miserable people are better at decision-making and certainly less gullible, his experiments showed. Mmm... I wonder if he was happy or grumpy at those results?

Anyway, while cheerfulness promotes creativity (take my boss, Griff ...please! Mmm... on second thoughts please don't or he won't feed me my lovely prawns!), gloominess breeds attentiveness and careful thinking. The University of New South Wales researcher says a grumpy person can cope with more demanding situations (being an office cat for instance) than a happy one because of the way the brain "promotes information processing strategies".

Negative moods trigger more attentive, careful thinking, paying greater attention to the external world ... Mmm, something I never do.

How was it done?
The Prof asked volunteers (not me) to watch different films and dwell on positive or negative events in their life, designed to put them in either a good or bad mood. Next he asked them to take part in a series of tasks, including judging the truth of urban myths and providing eyewitness accounts of events. Those in a bad mood (why wasn't I asked to be there?) outperformed those who were happy and jolly (foo yuk!) they made fewer mistakes and were better communicators.

The Prof later said: "Whereas positive mood seems to promote creativity, flexibility, co-operation and reliance on mental shortcuts, negative moods trigger more attentive, careful thinking, paying greater attention to the external world."

The study also found that sad people were better at stating their case through written arguments, which also showed that a "mildly negative mood may actually promote a more concrete, accommodative and ultimately more successful communication style".

His earlier work shows the weather has a similar impact on us - wet, dreary days sharpened memory, while bright sunny spells make people forgetful. Yeah, right!

Well, that's my excuse. What's yours?

Night, suckers...

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com

Sheesh! ... Salespeople! MEOW!!

Okay, okay! I admit it. On the whole, I do NOT like salespeople... and not just because they never ever bring me yummy creamy Atlantic prawns!

Yes, I know sales - as a concept - is a very necessary and yet distasteful evil, but S'truth... there are limits! Recently, one of these sales creatures (Hey, remember I am a cat, so every other species is a creature to me) an example that eventually exhibited all the traits of the worst kind, and I do concede there are very good and honest versions - arrived with short notice - yes, it has taken me all this time to calm down, collect my thoughts enough to write this entry. Anyway, this creature didn't announce himself as a salesman, or that he was indeed selling anything. No, he was a 'consultant' and he desperately wanted to help "solve our problems."

"Oh, really!", my boss said in gleeful surprise. My boss can be totally inscrutable, and loathes most salespeople as much as me. But, he seems to take particular delight (after years of corporate exposure) in draining every last drop of green blood from them, until they are left lifeless, limp, and only too desperate to escape to their typically badly parked company wagons.

"Well, you'd better come in." he said whilst smiling across at me with narrowed eyes and an uncharacteristically enigmatic expression.

Unusually, this one had no sharp suit, no loud tie, but sheesh could he talk! Jabber, jabber, jabber, on and on and on he went.

My boss abruptly interjected.

"How exactly do you intend to solve our problems then, Mikey?" He pronounced the name 'Mikey' in an intentionally over-friendly and well, terminal way. "... And, precisely which problems to you mean?"

Run man, RUN!

Oh dear, I knew what was about to happen, but hey, I'm a cat, and love to see humans squirm...

This interjection seemed to flummox Mikey, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "Er... well! ...it's er... like this."

Oh shucks... I was just starting to get gleeful at the idea of a good spat, but nah, this ones lost it already... hummm. I drearily started to examine my claws, whilst listening intently for any flicker of contentiousness.

Then, something odd struck my feline eye. This creature had a number of those coloured bands around each wrist. No... not the fantastically multi-coloured examples to show some great achievement for the good of others. No, these ones looked suspiciously out of place, and well, certainly tacky! Gradually, his slow mind realised that my boss had also spotted them, and then he became almost self-conscious about them, and started writhing and gesticuklating his sweating, spindly aftershave-soaked prehensile forelimbs, in that oh so revolting way that sales people are taught... "How to use your hands to gesticulate, to inspire and get your point across." YUK!

The deeply embedded Cheshire cat genes encoded oh so deftly into my DNA started to emerge and do their beastly work. I smelt BLOOD at last!!

No, these weren't any old bands, these were sales badges of honour, and he and we knew it! The proverbial cat was out of the bag, and he knew there was no way out of it! This was the identifying key to joining the sales elite. There is quite definitely a sucker born every minute, and here was the evidence. S'truth, there were revolting little sales slogans and captions embossed on them. Oh, pass the sick bowl someone.

# # # # # # 

Now, the sales world is disgustingly littered with all manner of "sure-fire" selling systems. The only problem is - and no sales person ever seems to understand this - that selling cannot and should never ever be reduced to a FAD system. To put this into context, some of the best 'accidental sales people' I have ever seen are technicians and engineers, you know the (underpaid when compared to sales folks) kind of people that have to 'go in' after a systems have been sold, and somehow make the wretched things work, or at least do the things or tasks they were sold or told they would do.

True life example: a while back, my boss invited two annoying friends to have lunch in the hopes that they would do business with each other, and keep of my bosses back. Well, they ended up really hitting it off, and later when he informed one of them that the other person liked him very much and wanted to do business immediately, he responded with absolute and genuine surprise.

"Really! Are you sure?" he asked, "because I'm not a salesman!"

In this case, what he didn't realize is that he was selling by being himself, and the importance of example goes way beyond one's approach (or lack of) to closing a deal. It is the absolute antidote to all the silly, gimmicky, let's try one of those sales techniques that pass as wonders of the sales world. YUK!

The multi-headed problem with nearly all these sales systems is not only that they don't work, but even worse, they encourage unscrupulous or bogus salespeople to jump from one cheap stunt to another. How many times have I seen salespeople - whether they be business owners or commissioned reps - po-going from one charade to another, stumbling onto a new gimmick touted as the 'wonder closer' to all wonder closers, only to find that in the real world it just don't work! So, they drop it like a red hot potato and then move on to the next dud.

The real reason the 'non-salesman' friend of my boss succeeded as a "salesman" is because he was driven by real and genuine elements:

• A genuine interest in the other party
• A self-honesty and integrity others can perceive and believe in
• A True interest in understanding the other party's challenges and opportunities and in seeking solutions to them (as opposed to simply moving products and services off the shelf)
• A steely determination to reject gimmicks of all kinds

So, if you don't possess the resolve to avoid gimmicks, you become a gimmick yourself - just a transparent hawker of products looking to wheel and deal even when there's no value in it at all for the client.

So don't be or act like a salesperson for Pete's sake! Be a person who happens to make sales because you do all of the other stuff right.

# # # # # #

Oh, and what happened in the end with Mikey? Well, he was a well-practiced computer sales rep, pushing software and hardware sales support using a nasty and evil sales tactic - attempting to scare, terrify, apply divide and conquer tactics, and then triumphantly and sagely announce that he can save the potential victim by employing their typically overpriced, under-supported, probably outdated and doubtless insecure and unsafe methodology.

My boss casually mentioned he didn't really need assistance as he had both an MCSE and an MCSA, and already had a certified system in place.

"What are those?" inquired Mikey.

Nuff said! Case closed.

Night, suckers...

tintin@griffwason.com
www.griffwason.com

What's in a name? Quite a lot, actually!

Hi Suckers! I'm Back!! Lock up your prawns!! ...on second thoughts, please don't!

I make a habit of keeping informed on current technology trends, marketing and reading between the lines with news releases.

Most people, in the GWai office think that I'm just making a nuisance of myself whilst I lie nonchalantly on their magazines, seemingly "vying for their attentions" ...

Well, sure of course I love annoying humans... pushing them to see how far they will go, before they SNAP!... hey, I'm a cat!  But, I occasionally let my eyes stray across certain articles (Well this is what... 2013 - or whatever you humans have called it - and I am certainly an emancipated cat), in fact I am an avid reader, have views on just about everything, and well - if I say it myself - am extremely well informed.

Now, I know most humans can be a little dumb (Ahem … understatement, please see some of my previous posts), but you'd think the mighty likes of Intel and Microsoft who have huge resources and even larger budgets could employ some half decent marketing?? Or am I just being sensible?

Firstly, let's examine Microsoft and MS Windows, for example… hugely successful… eventually. But, let's see…

…we've had:

Windows 1 to 3 (Have you seen Steve Ballmer's ads from the time!)

Windows 3.1 (the first decent and really usable Windows)

Then...

• Windows 95
• Windows NTx
• Windows 98
• Windows 2000
• Windows ME
• Windows XP
• Windows Vista
• Windows 7
• ...and Windows 8

Spot the problem? Mmm… now let me see, if Bill Gates was as smart as me (yeah, right) and already used to a succession of iterated and increasingly successful software, you would have thought he and some of his highly paid marketing people would have come up with a half-way decent naming strategy for their most lucrative product… yeah, no… der!!

But, no. That naming strategy isn't a strategy at all. It's a seemingly random sequence of names, and the only consistent part of the title is "Windows" … brilliant! Now, is it possible this have happened on purpose? No, not in a company like Microsoft. Were the people behind the new products so ashamed of the previous incarnation that they wanted a name not even close to the predecessor? Maybe. Or, was it a case of "new people, new team, new strategy on each release… " ...more than likely.

Just 'Google' or 'Bing!' (now there's a name... could be straight our of Friends!) for Microsoft naming strategies, and you'll get as many theories as there are Windows updates…

Meow! This cat's got claws!!

Then, there's Intel… they are not much better. Actually a great deal worse in many ways.

First (and don't nitpick this list or else… I know I'm précising… ) there was the Intel 8086 in 1978 (x86) … nice, we all know where we are.

Followed by the Intel 8088

Then…

• Intel 186/188 … again nice, we all know where we are.
• Intel 286 …okay.
• Intel 386 …okay.
• Intel 486 …okay.
• Intel 486SX …I'm getting worried again!
• Intel 486DX2 ..not again.
• Intel 486SL …slim line anyone?
• Intel 486DX4 …and again!
• Intel Pentium (Classic) … uh oh… beginning to go off track here…
• Intel Pentium Pro… Oh, this is where it all started to go wrong!
• Intel Pentium Pro with MMX Technology … Oh, hooray for MMX! What a name… NOT!

Then…

• Pentium II …Okay, classic mistake. Going II can only get worse, especially in Roman numerals
• Celeron … Is that another word for cut-down Pentium II?
• Pentium III …Okay, possibly back on track again.
• Pentium 4 …NO! They lost their nerve and dumped the Roman numerals.
• Pentium M …What!
• Intel Core …? What the ...
• Celeron M …a tentative maybe, if you like that kind of thing!
• Celeron D …okay'ish
• Mobile Pentium 4-M … O-kay…
• Pentium 4EE …NO!
• Pentium 4E …Makes NO sense at all!
• Pentium 4F …Meanwhile
• Pentium D … Eyebrows simply raised at this point!
• Pentium Extreme Edition … Oh, this is just stupid! Perhaps it was named by a games playing first day intern!

…don't even get me started on the Xeon's!

• Intel Core 2 …Okay. Fresh start!
• Core 2 Duo …What the ...
• Core 2 Extreme …What!
• Core 2 Duo E4600
• Core 2 Duo T7800
• Core 2 Extreme QX6850
• Core 2 Quad Q6700
• Core 2 Extreme QX9770
• Core 2 Quad Q9650
• Pentium Dual Core
• Intel Pentium E2220
• Intel Pentium E5400
• Celeron M
• Core i7

Okay, now it gets REALLY daft!
Atom, Celeron, Pentium Dual-Core, Core 2, Core i3, Core i5 and Core i7 ...

Okay, I give up!

Now, even Intel have begun to notice the problem, and in future the company is ditching its array of confusing names such as Core 2 Duo and Core 2 Quad - and at last introducing a simplified family of Core processors.

• Entry level = i3
• Mid level = i5
• High-end = i7

The only problem is that the upcoming desktop CPU will come in i5 and i7 flavors, and amazingly, the Celeron, Pentium and Centrino brand names are going to remain, although Centrino will now only refer to the wireless technology and NOT the processor… confused, you should be!

There are doubtless thousands of other examples from as many companies, but if you're going to make a point, make a BIG one! Okay, I've been a little hard on Intel - they have had and do have a multitude of processor versions and variants. But, according to my boss (Griff), he had a long discussion with a high-ranking Intel exec who didn't understand his own product range naming convention, so Griff explained it to him!

If some of the folks at Intel don't understand their own naming conventions, how the hell, is the public supposed to know!

In these times of economic problems (I will NOT used the "r" word), and with computer manufacturers margins being cut to single figures percentages, AND Netbooks confusing the market with practically no margin at all… you'd think the manufacturers would be busting Intel's door down insisting that they clarify so the public and business sectors know what they're actually buying…

But, maybe that's tooooo simple. But then, what do I know? I'm just your not so average cat.

For good product naming, look at aircraft as an example...

Boeing

• Boeing 707
• Boeing 727
• Boeing 737-x00
• Boeing 747-x00
• Boeing 757-x00
• Boeing 767-x00
• Boeing 777-x00
• Boeing 787-x00

Note the suffix to indicate the model configuration type!
The USAF use consistent numbering: F for fighter (F117), B for Bomber (B2)
Or even airplanes with exciting names: Spitfire MK1 thru to MKXVI
See, it can be done! Just needs a little logic and forward thinking...

BTW! Who the hell named me Tin-Tin!!! MEOW!

Night, suckers... 

tintin@griffwason.com
www.griffwason.com

No flies on me! Okay humans. Here it is: FLY-SWATTING 101

Sheesh... some of you humans are dumb... I mean, real dumb!

For some reason, there seems to have been many more flies (gnat's, midge's) buzzing around than in recent years.

According to Squitts (next door flea-bag.. ho ho) it's a seasonal thing, and nothing to do with the blueberry muffin that's currently sitting (lurking provocatively) on one of the desks. And, Tarquin ('nuff said), well, he reckons it's to do with yours truly... 'effin cheek!!

...Anyway, I've just watched one feeble human 'attempt' at swatting said fly, and it was absolutely pathetic. They were swishing this way and that, in completely the wrong direction, ...employing a misaligned approach trajectory. A TOTAL AND COMPLETE FAILURE!

What any sensible animal knows - and this has been confirmed in a recent scientific study - is that flies have 360 degree horizontal vision, and nearly 360 degree vertical vision... i.e. they can see nearly EVERYWHERE around them!

Also, their brains are hard-wired into their nerve and muscle reflex system. As soon as they sense movement, or danger, it has been shown that the little ******'s start to move their body, and angle their legs in the opposite direction, and into a launch position, before any swatting action takes place.

EXAMPLE:

1. Juicy fly located on Human A's head (facing away from Human B. Hate to think what the fly is doing).
2. Human B observes said fly, and moves toward rear of Human A's head. 
3. Human B takes aim at fly with rolled-up large scientific journal/newspaper (Weapon).
4. Fly's front and middle legs angle away from threat (Human B's rolled up journal/newspaper). 
5. Human B begins to take a swipe at fly. Fly is already in launch position - legs angled and knees bent away from threat (Human B's journal/newspaper) and launches (within 200 milliseconds) in a safe direction, and escapes... 
6. Human B's journal/newspaper hits the prime target spot on Human A's head... THWACK!!!!

RESULTS:

1. The wretched 'fly' wins. 
2. HUMAN B gets fired (if they are a subordinate) ...and a black eye for the trouble... 
3. HUMAN A gets a bruise on back of head, spilt coffee all over front, lap and new computer keyboard... 
4. Lastly, Tin-Tin (me!) gets total silence in the office for the rest of the day... YIPPEE... he, he... peace at last!

LESSON:

If you REALLY want to swat a fly, try to hit it in the direction you think it's going, NOT where it is!! The flies' reactions are 100 times quicker than yours!

...Or, bring in the SWAT Team... (that was a pathetic contribution from Tarquin... Sigh... see what I have to live with?)

Night, suckers...

Meanwhile, off camera: Tin-Tin shouting... Hey tarquin... SSssseeee... I told you that so-called joke would fall flat, you dumb-cluck!!

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com

If being Feng Shui'd wasn't bad enough, I've NOW been CHIP and PINNED!

In a new low in my life, and supposedly in an effort to stop my friends coming in for a chat, sharing my chicken (No way am I sharing my beloved prawns!) ...havin' a laugh at the humans... you know the kind of thing... cat stuff... bla bla bla!

Some bright spark in the office has had an electronic 'cat flap' (hate the term - sounds so uncouth, and deeply insulting)installed in my outside door. Now, as I go through it, I feel like a forgetful shoplifter making a fast exit, desperately trying to remember whether I have 'nicked' anything or not. Doesn't seem to matter anyway, as this wretched thing makes an appallingly loud BEEP every time I go through it - guilty or not.

It doesn't matter whether I'm going out, or coming back in, the wretched thing is a total giveaway to my privacy. I wasn't even consulted whether I wanted this wretched thing installed! Effin' cheek!

...just to make matter worse, there are two flashing lights (red and green) that just seem to have been installed to annoy me even further. Of course being a responsible citizen, and being fully versed in the highway code, I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to stop, walk, halt, wait, or just effin' headbutt the stupid thing.

Also, I don't know which clown is controlling these daft lights ...the door is transparent moron, and I can see there's no traffic coming, so whatever all this is about, just don't have a clue!

Then, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse (see the week I've had so far), I have today discovered just what makes this wretched thing work.

Talk about a police state, the lack of rights for the citizen: late this morning, I was carted off to the veterinarian, inappropriately handled, and had a glass chip thing jabbed and then injected into the scruff of my neck, without even a bye your leave. On arriving back home, I was once again picked up, and had my head shoved through the cat flap in the office door a couple of times to program this wretched thing into operation.

In, out, in, out, IN, OUT, IN OUT, ...beep ...b-beep, beep, the wretched thing would go each time my poor head was stuck through the hole... each time being thunked on the head by the flap itself.

Okay, okay, I give in. The effing thing is working!!! hoo ray, now get lost and let me get to my prawns! Still seeing stars just re-living all that!

Only, it wasn't that easy. Now, whenever I even approach the door, the lights start flashing, if get too close it beeps, and then clicks as the lock to the flap releases... talk about Colditz!

So, it's life in an open prison for me, heads raise every time the flap beeps (yeah, surprise, surprise! It's me! - who else? I'm the only one the dumb thing will let through the door... who do you effin' think it is, dumb cluck!

So, from now on, no sneaking in or out when I shouldn't. My only problem now is working out which side of the flap is the prison...

...How's your day been?

Night, night, cellmates!

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com

I LURVE prawns with a passion!

...and HATE all mice and rodents - they just give me heartburn... hic!

Over the course of the last few years, I have gradually noticed a behavioral change to the rodent population (what's left of the little tossers) in the garden. The little blighters have become more bolshy, and now take two swipes instead of my usual singular knockout backhands!

So, in my spare time I have been conducting an experiment in my laboratory under the garden shed. I have been gradually formulating and refining this set of experiments to frightening and extreme proportions…

It is an established fact in my world that cat wee scares away all mice… okay, FACT! But, I have discovered through meticulous research (okay, don't ask how it was motivated… ) but, I have also discerned that it also acts like an aphrodisiac to the females!! Shock, horror!!!

During my research, I have discovered that the odour makes male mice much more macho (ala Mr. T), helping them lure in more females (sneaky tossers) - even after I have bonked them on the nose for being bolshy, and just asking for a good punch up the conk!

In feline case-studies, my associates in controlled conditions found that cat wee typically caused mice to panic or flee (little chickens), although apparently it has been discovered that there is a rare species of parasite that can infiltrate rodents miniscule brains, lobotomize them and make them suicidal, by seeking cats out!!! Mmm… who are these parasites? Where can I meet one… Facebook?

I had expected that really stressing out a 'normal' mouse would really scupper its love life, and scared and whimpering mice are not sexy… well, I wouldn't really know (let's not go there… )

Yes, as I have said already, and I know this might sound weird, but I don't like mice or rodents… can't stand 'em... just not worth the effort of all that running, catching and all that. One chomp and they're gone. They are over-rated, and in my opinion are just nouvelle cuisine to the more self-indulgent glitterati of the feline world… tossers all!

Anyway, as part of my experiment, I wanted to see if a whiff of me might serve as a mouse repellent to help keep the wretched little rodents away, and out of my garden. So, despite earlier misgivings, I troubled myself to catch some prime examples of the little thugs, restrained them (garden tie-wrap is a wonderful thing) in my lab (tied to bamboo canes) and subjected them to about eight weeks of me 'watering' that part of the garden… ha ha!!! Revenge is a dish best served cold, only in this case not so cold…

Well, even a cat as intelligent as me can be surprised! Unexpectedly, after eight weeks of watering them with yours truly did NOT lead to more cowardly and cowering mice, as my calculations had predicted it should!

Instead, I found that the males became even more bolshy, and indeed in knockout punch measurements endured over twice as much punishment as normal! And, indeed the males started picking fights with the other males!

What's more, these new Rambo mice were much more delectable to the females. Females do tend to like the bad ones… such is life!

So, in conclusion (and to my surprise) I always thought my very presence in the garden was enough to scare off these little tossers, but my conclusions are that:

• Prolonged exposure to my esteemed presence (in all its forms) only makes the males even more of a blessed nuisance.
• What's worse, the females like the more aggressive males, that in turn promotes even more aggressive males that can survive the constant threat of my presence.

As Homer Simpson would say: "DOH!"

Guess I'm going to stay more in the office. At least it's warm - if noisy! (see yesterday)

Nighty night, suckers!



tintin@griffwason.com
www.griffwason.com

Oh, shite. He's going to recommend a Team Building Day off site at some crappy corporate retreat!

My routine and 18 hour working schedule were rudely interrupted today by the visit from a management consultant (no raised capitals as they tend to be a bunch of tossers!).

Anyway he was here to complete "a complementary assessment of the management effectiveness of the company", no less - in other words touting for business, and all this despite having been told weeks ago that Griff is away being repaired. Apparently that news had been a bonus, as it would give a chance for the remaining 'office workers' (don't you just love effing management speak… not!) to relax and 'interact' i.e. speak freely…

Listen chum! We ALL speak freely here...

As I lay there on the newly repaired UPS (Yeah what took so long) there was definite air of tension as this person waffled his way through his over-rehearsed intro patter. Oh gawd! Every now and then I raised an eyelid, and didn't even have to try to look bored. I tried to help the others by yawning and minutely checking my claws one by one, in time with each nauseatingly piece of marketing-speak. Gawd… this is effing painful I eyed to everyone, one by one.

We've all heard this tripe before, tosser! I unsuccessfully tried conducting his waffle to a premature close with the end of my tail (ala Zubin Mehta), but to no avail. He was determined to drag it out adnausseam.

Surely, even the dumbest of these 'suits' must realize that even a retarded ant can tell the difference between over-practised sales patter, and that of spontaneous conversation?? Maybe people such as this creep have been doing it SO long, too long, that they actually believe the substance of what they're saying… who knows, who cares?

Every now and then, the phone rang, and you could sense the atmosphere ease a few notches, and even more coffee was dished out. Raising my head in a "what about my effing prawns!" kind of look effected no response, and I knew why… we all knew where this was heading.

Oh, shite. He's going to recommend a Team Building Day off-site at some crappy corporate retreat! Ohhhh gawd!!!

Yeah.. I know the road to hell is lined with good intentions, but who are these guys? Which planet do they come from, and have you ever met anyone who grew up wanting to be a management/marketing consultant? Sheesh!!

Effing Corporate Team Building… CRAP! Quote: Give any new team a hard enough project or goal, and they'll have to get on with it, and team building will be a natural consequence… that's what my boss say's, and even he's got one of those MBA things.

Got sidetracked… Effing Corporate Team Building… Yes, CRAP!

You know the kind of effing thing; 'team-building exercises' where podgy, flabby managers have to figure out how to heave their fat-arse boss over a wall, praying silently for the tell-tale 'thud' on the other side, followed by a whimper or, even better, an eerie but ominous silence. Thank f***!

Then they all troop indoors, to be swathed in bandages and elastoplasts (medals of the day), to eat rubber chicken, and token salads… 'cos they're healthy… and make you feel good.' Never mind the fact that most of these bloated arse-wipes will be stuffing chips and pints within a few hours! Then they're presented with solid plastic little cups and medals to show the uninitiated at work the next day! Fu..Yuk!

Then onto the main event, dreaming up, and spouting forth a load of crap about the need for "synergy" and then to dream up revolting mission statements that are as convoluted and opaque as selected bits of Thomas Aquinas.

Next day, they all slouch back into their respective offices suddenly talking in tongues like some ungodly hybrids of Sun Tsu, Yoda, Clausewitz, and Attila the Hun, only with a “vision” supposedly amalgamating metaphysics, logic and war tactics…unholy claptrap… bet they've never even heard the word epistemology! Tossers all of 'em!

But the most irritating and mindless of all that team-building crap usually involves about six sad-looking past-it middle-aged desk jockeys, a milk crate, and an effing rope, who have to swing Tarzan-style (lard-arse on a rope) on the rope and onto the milk crate, where they have to figure out a way how to accommodate the whole filthy sweating half-dozen without tipping the crate or falling off it.

There’s usually only enough space on the average milk crate to accommodate one foot for each desk jockey. The counterbalance to the gravitational pull has to be established by clutching your colleagues in an revolting group hug, which, depending on what stage of the program this exercise takes place, elicits feelings of mild discomfort at the otherwise carefully avoided physical proximity to your colleagues, or full-blown explosive nausea triggered by rubbing against the sweat-soaked Kiss t-shirt that two decades ago used to be big enough to cover the clammy, white midriff of your supervisor. Oooo…. Yuk!

Whatever the point of this exercise effing is, I really don't think anyone effing knows.

Speaking as a cat with a brain: is the purpose of this disgusting display to suggest that people, by maintaining a tenuous, extremely uncomfortable, and slightly unappetizing balance aboard a milk crate, are actually furthering some common purpose?

What would be the purpose, then? Delay inevitable collapse of balance by desperately clutching the shirts of your co-workers until all go down together? Oh that's a team!

I have yet to have heard of a teambuilding “trainer” who does not wax poetic about the supposed value of teamwork in this situation. Would it surprise you that I think the desperate men and women on the milk crate should be severely reprimanded for not making the effort of finding a second or third crate to occupy? Or at least using a dull pencil or sharpened stick as a weapon to shove up the original consultant and trainers backside? Now that's initiative!

But then, what do I know? I'm just your not so average cat. Cat's do not believe in team-building, team, workgroups... we just effing get on with it!

Don't let these bastards through the door. Argh... now I feel a lot better.

Night, night suckers...

PS. The cost of this outrage would have kept me and my legion of descendants in fresh creamy Atlantic prawns well into the next century...

Oh, now I get it!

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com

Feng Shite for Cats!

...I just don't even wanna talk about it. I've been friggin' Feng Shui'd, or whatever the effing words are. Feng Shite more like...

As I am no longer welcome to sleep on the UPS (see yesterday), my bed has been moved to the floor, in a draught, and next to the f****** server! Sure, if you're human and hence deaf as a post, a server just hums. But, speaking as a cat, with hearing roughly 10-15 times more sensitive, my hearing range is 45-64,000Hz, compared to 64-23,000Hz in humans - Yeah, don't look surprised... I did maths! So don't look at me like that! So, being stuck next to the server is like trying to sleep next to a badly tuned Harley Davidson with the mufflers removed… sheesh!

So what am I expected to do?

I went and lay on one of the those gorgeous 17" made to measure Apple Shiatsu beds laying open on one of the desks! All the lovely smooth independently sprung knobs massaging by back and sides…. Oh yes!! Yes… Oh YES! Mmm… …and all those mesmerising colours swirling and swaying just send me off…. heaven...

...WHAT HAVE I DONE NOW? I just got chucked off the Apple bed… Shite! 

What! What have I done?

What is a self-respecting cat supposed to do now?

It's bad enough as it is trying to work 18 hours a day in here, without all the sound effects blasting in my ears from all directions. They know nothin' about me and my needs. My ears are the ultimate in feline engineering technology. In the same way as a sophisticated satellite dish rotates and adjusts in order to best position itself for receiving a signal, it's the same with my friggin' ears… most of which are not even perceptible by humans.

Are humans thick or what… "dogs (effing things) have fantastic hearing", Yeah right! Compared to a cat hearing, a dogs hearing is shite. People only have to whisper, and I can hear every friggin' thing, phone call, mobiles, next door, beep and hums, iPod ear plugs, I HEAR IT ALL YOU'S GUYS… so just turn it down… be a bit considerate!

It's all noise pollution. So stop being SO selfish, just 'cos you're not evolved enough to hear it!!!

BTW… It's brunch time. Well, where's my friggin' prawns?

…later ...much later!

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com

Okay. So i've got dumped on!

It seems I'm the only one always in the office, so it's down to me. They'll regret it though...

Okay, so Tarquin (the next door fleabag) told me that his girlfriend (yeah right... as if...) read in Cosmo that a cat is supposed to sleep 18 hours a day, so I'm in a really bad mood already, and apparently behind schedule. And now, I've got this effing blog to write...

Why am I in a mood? The effing UPS (whatever that is) is on the blink (new battery set needed or somethin') - according to Squitts (the creep who setup this Blog for me... what a loser). So, what that means is that I have nowhere warm and comfortable to lie on during my mandatory 18 hours sleep - yeah right! Fat chance now of getting that...

...and I wish they'd stop calling me friggin' Tin-Tin. My name is RAMBO FART the third!

And... there's this recession thing (whatever that is) that probably means I won't get any prawns for some time - at least until Griff gets back from where ever he is. What, where is this recession? What's it all about? Who started it, and what kind of friggin' lottery system is the stock market? Where is this recession thing, and where has all the money gone? It can't have disappeared, someone must have it. So who's got it? They've stolen my effing prawns!

...and just when it can't get any more stupid... banks, who are supposed to lend money (let's face it, what else are they for?) need money to get themselves out of the very crisis they created. Only who do they get it from? Yeah right, the government give them public money - my prawn money, f*** 'em! Then, when the public want to borrow money from the banks (the very money 'we' gave the banks to prop them up) the banks lend it back, only this time charging us interest on our own money ... sheesh, and humans think animals are stupid!

Anyway, that's more than enough for now...

Night suckers...

tintin@griffwason.com

www.griffwason.com