West-Wing Tech-Support Crew Be A Buncha Whack Bitches - H.K.
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<TITLE>West-Wing Tech-Support Crew Be A Buncha Wack Bitches </TITLE>
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West-Wing Tech-Support Crew Be A Buncha Wack Bitches</H1>
<B>By Herbert Kornfeld <BR>
Accounts Receivable Supervisor </B><BR>
<P> Yo yo yo yo yo yo, whassssup, bruthas and sistas of H-Dog,
Tha Lowdown Funky-Fresh
Gangsta Bad Ass of the Accountz Reeceevable Department of Midstate Office
Supply, Tha Righteous Funk Masta, Tha Stone-Cold Muthafuckin' Playa with
all tha dope spreadsheets and fly alphabetized invoice files and shit. Y'all
be down with the H-Dog, know what I'm sayin'? And those who ain't, y'all
can kiss my ass, muthafuckas. Some cocksuckas tried to fuck wit' the H-Dog
last week and got they fuckin' asses WHUPPED. </P><P>
The sorry cocksuckas in question was the Tech Support staff on the west
wing of the third-floor general administrative office. Me and my crew here
on the east wing of the third floor, we hate them west-wing tech-support
muthafuckas. They always be tryin' to muscle in on our turf wit' they muthafuckin'
control of the company's computa network and fuckin' wit' my accounting
software and otherwise tellin' me what to do and shit. Thass bullshit! The
only person who can tell the H-Dog what to do is his mama. And Allah. All
the rest of y'all muthafuckas can go fuck yo'selves. </P><P>
This whole east-west beef started about three months ago. Before that, it
was all good: All the departments be chillin', doin' they own thang, know
what I'm sayin'? But then, this past March, this muthafucka named Ted Wegerle
gets hired as the new Tech Support supervisor, and he starts makin' all
these changes around the office, devisin' ways to make the computa system
run more efficient and shit. </P><P> About a week after he be
hired, Wegerle send his computa bitches around
to check all the extensions and power cords and shit in every department
to make sure they be secure and don't need no replacement. So one of these
computa bitches rides up to my cubicle and starts snoopin' around on his
knees under my desk, his li'l Dockers-wearin' ass pokin' up like he gonna
give me head or something. So I says to him, "Yo, what tha fuck you
be doin' under there?" He raise his head and say that I gots too much
plugged into my power strip, including two adding machines and another extension
cord, an' that I should have nothing but my computer and desk lamp plugged
in there. So I say, "Well, then why don't yo' pussy supervisor get
my department bigger power strips, you wack-ass bitch?" When I says
that, the li'l bastard turns all red and runs back to his fuckin' turf.
He was shit-scared, I know it, 'cause I gots a rep for being the hardest
muthafucka on the whole damn third floor. </P><P> Then,
a few weeks after that, Wegerle goes and upgrades my accounting software
without consultin' me. When me and my posse logged on to Lotus, we got all
this weird extra shit I ain't never seen before. Man, I was so pissed, I
packed my Letter Opener Of Death and fuckin' invaded the west-wing turf,
demandin' to see Wegerle. So I says to him, "What the fuck y'all do
wit' my accounting shit? It was def before all y'all changed it. Change
that shit back before I cuts you and the rest of you wack computa bitches."
</P><P> I was about to go all American Psycho on those muthafuckas,
but Wegerle says, all cool and shit, "Herbert, the only real changes on your software
are some upgrades to the graphics, the addition of a few hot keys, and a
quicker downloading time. Otherwise, nothing has substantially changed.
If anything, you'll be able to do your spreadsheets much more efficiently
now." </P><P> So he talked me out of slicin' him
and his software-installin' bitches,
which ended up being the worst fuckin' mistake I coulda made, 'cause it
sent them the message that they could fuck wit' tha H-Dog. When I figured
this out, I decided to get me some allies against Tech Support, in case
those fuckas tried to invade my turf again. So I goes up to Myron Schabe,
the Accountz Payable supervisor. </P><P> Now, normally,
I just be laughin' at Myron, 'cause he be this old candy-ass
fool who wear Sansabelt slacks every day to work. But Accountz Payable be
in the middle of the third floor, in between tha east and west wings, so
they in the crossfire when the shit go down. They is, therefore, of strategic
significance and all that army shit. If Tech Support tried to invade our
turf, the Accountz Payable Krew could tell them to back the fuck off, and
ain't no way they could reach tha east wing. So I ask Myron to join my posse
and offer him some of my secret stash of Wisconsin Dells admission discount
coupons I be keepin' in my desk. </P><P> But Myron just
say, "I'm not getting involved in this, Herbert. If
you have a problem with Ted, you can take your grievances to Bob Cowan in
Human Resources." I shoulda known that dickless ol' bastard would say
somethin' like that. "Thass cool, sucka," I say. "When tha
shit goes down, you just be in tha middle anyway." </P><P>
Sure enough, last Thursday, the shit with Tech Support went down when I
made this hardcore, dope-ass image for my desktop. Man, that desktop image
was the shit. I went down to the Marketing Department and used their scanner
to scan this picture of a forest with tha inscription, "Attitudes Are
Contagious... Is Yours Worth Catching?" You ain't kiddin', muthafucka!
I saved it on a disk and loaded into my computer, so when I reboot, I get
this muthafuckin' dope-ass shit on my desktop instead of that goddamn Windows
logo. </P><P> The next day, the entire office be gettin'
these memos in they mailboxes.
"Lately, it has come to my attention that several people have been
creating personalized desktop images for their computers. We ask that people
stop doing this and return to using one of the default desktop images included
in the office-wide Windows 95 operating system. Aside from being an unnecessary
activity which wastes office time and resources, creating a desktop image
takes up a lot of memory and can create problems within your departmental
LAN. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. Have a good
day. Ted Wegerle, Tech Support Supervisor." </P><P>
It was muthafuckin' zero hour, man. </P><P> I stands up
on my chair and shouts across tha floor, "Yeah, I gots
a question, Ted Wegerle, you muthafucka. Why you be fuckin' with tha H-Dog
and the East-Wing Office Krew? I gots a vendetta out against you and the
rest of the west-wing tech-support bitches, 'cause you be dissin' me and
my posse and makin' me look the fool in front of my homies. You can't tell
tha H-Dog what to do. I gots seniority, muthafucka. I gots da money, da
shorties, <I>and</I> tha Employee Of Tha Month plaques to prove it. You
only been here three months and still be on probation, cocksucka. Just because
you know computa shit don't mean you can fuck everybody over. You think
you all that, but you ain't, muthafucka. You just frontin.' So fuck you,
bitch. Fuck you and yo' homies <I>and</I> yo' wack-ass Spiderman neckties,
too, 'cause you ain't no playa, <I>beeee-yaaaatch!</I> H-Dog over and OUT."
</P><P> I sits back down, and everyone in tha east wing be
whoopin' and givin' me
high-fives like they be on <I>Arsenio</I>. Myron Schabe be shakin' his head
and havin' this hangdog look on his face, 'cause he be in the crossfire
and can't get no work done. That was Myron's goddamn problem, though. He
coulda joined my dope posse. </P><P> The next day, there
be another memo in our mailboxes, this time from Lawrence
Kanner, the Midstate Office Supply vice-president. "In order to improve
the effectiveness of the Technical Support Department, we have decided to
move Ted Wegerle and the rest of his staff to the second floor in the space
adjoining the mainframe computer. The Marketing Department will relocate
to Tech Support's former offices on the west wing of the third-floor general
administrative office." </P><P> Like I said before,
those who fuck wit' the H-Dog get they sorry asses BEAT
DOWN. I didn't even have to say nothin' to the vice-president: He knew that
the H-Dog was out for muthafuckin' blood, and that he had to defuse tha
situation before things got violent. I gots more clout with Kanner than
that muthafuckin' Ted Wegerle pussy and the rest of his wack posse combined.
And, on top of all that, right before Wegerle left the third floor, I stole
the ball out of his fuckin' mouse, too. </P><P> I don't
expect no problems with Marketing, 'cause Marketing's full of some
of the flyest hos you ever seen, and they'll all be wantin' to freak tha
H-Dog, 'cause they know I be hung like a muthafuckin' horse. H-Dog over
and OUT.</P>
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