Thursday, June 27, 2013

A phenomena called as Manager

Call it a mere co-incidence or my sense of prejudice, but there are some very peculiar similarities, if not congruency between the words Manager and Maneater apart from the phonetics. Let us for a short moment ponder over the standard definitions of Maneater provided in various Lexicons. The referential meaning of the word is a woman who has illicit affairs with many men without actually loving any of them. The direct and obvious meaning is an animal who preys on humans and eats them. Now, if I join the above two statements and take the liberty of some biased assumptions, the meaning remolds itself to someone who is a dispassionate, heartless animal, is involved with multiple men and relishes the taste of their flesh above any tongue pleasing ingredient. Sounds familiar? I know.

So how do we identify these rotten sons of bitches? Well, we don’t have to because this species has a habit of making its presence felt with pig like expressions and an intimidating stench that would make you feel like throwing up (often on them). If you have ever been able to imagine a gigantic snake dressed up in crisp linen with its mouth wide open to sting you with ridiculous volumes of work and hissing in your ears every half an hour “so, what’s the status?”, you are a certain and unfortunate victim of a very common yet remediless bite of which eventually you would learn to get used to. Although there is no permanent cure of this pain, you can always try using the most vehement and wild abuses as an analgesic to soothe the suffering. It is very interesting to take note that the word ‘anal’gesic fits so naturally and comfortably in this context. It would not sound surprising to me if someday some brave language revolutionaries are officially able to make the words Manager and Pain-in-the-Ass synonymous to each other.Now talking of the methods of dealing with Manager-bite, the bigger the levels of cusses, the better you would feel from inside. In fact, every corporate office should have this weekly activity called as Cuss the Puss in which you get to shout abuses to your manager in the fiercest of your pitch in an open space with your colleagues, just like laughter therapy sessions. I strongly believe that no other thing on this earth would be more gratifying than this.Not even sex. Of course there are many other and better methods than this in my mind which regrettably cannot be written here for the sake of decency. May your imagination get the better of you.

Let me elaborate more on the qualities and virtues of the InCorporate Bastards. They are generally big headed with a thick skull protecting a useless and often absent lump of saturated fat which in normal terms is called as Brain. The most wretched thing with them is the universal fact that the ratio between their brains and mouths tends to zero (according to0/infinity rule). I just hope that your knowledge of rudimentary calculus is not as low as their IQs to get what I said. Now since their shit ball (I don’t want to flatter them to unimaginable and unrealistic limits by calling it a brain) is heavily guarded by an almost rock solid crust, it is absolutely impenetrable to intelligent and sensible talks as if they are weapons of mass destruction and allowing them to fall would yield in a terrible holocaust. Try telling them something which is even remotely intelligent and get the treat of your life by staring at the look of the stupidest look of bewilderment on their faces. Their defiance to logic is so murderous that even a dog would want to take a leak in their mouths if sometimes in the darkest moments of mankind and dogkind, the latter is compared with the former. But adopting a bit honesty there, I do not blame them for their condition because a long time of rear licking can cause such levels of mental disasters. Moreover, boot and booty licking require no brains and that is perhaps the reason why every good manager is an even better bootylicker. See, it’s an inseparable part of the parcel.

Their eyes are just like those of jackals. Miraculously divine co incidence yet again at the similarity between the words Jackals and Jackass. Those two gloating eyes staring down at you like an innocent and helpless prey who they can play with before killing it and finally eating it.

I’m not seeing any output from you.

You must do something to improve your performance.

I'm not happy with the pace at which things are moving from your end

You must stay back today to finish this off today itself.

Where are the results?

The list does not know the end. I’m not seeing any output from you. (I never knew you are fucking blind). You must do something to improve your performance. (How about killing you?). I’m not happy with the pace at which things are moving from your end (Oh I’m sorry, Would you like some lap dance?). You must stay back today to finish this off today itself (Because the world would collapse tomorrow and all the debris would gravitate towards your ass?). Where are the results? (Have you tried Colonoscopy?).

Now we all must understand that all managers can defecate from mouths as well. This is by far the most distinctive feature of them. Every breath they take out and every word they transmit into the air makes it even more polluting that it already is. I think that World environment forum should impose a lifetime ban on their speech for this because it is as threatening to the balance of the nature as the effect of Carbon Monoxide. Or our government which is so clever at levying useless taxes at us, should for once do something which would really benefit the entire nation and levy tax on every word at they speak. If that happens, I can bet on their idiosyncrasy, which also happens to be their most precious asset that you won’t hear even a squeak out of them. Just like they do when their managers are speaking to them. It is almost orgasmic imagining them standing timidly in front of their big daddies with tails curled deep in between their shivering legs.

Not very long ago, I came to realize a very sad fact when someone told me over the phone that while being in a corporate world, you never work for the company but for the manager and manager is always right. Even if he is an incurable asshole.


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