I feel like I’m in a fucking insane asylum listening to these people speak. It’s all phony nonsense.

Circle back
Put a pin in it
Touch base offline
Laser focused
Drill down
Frontlines (fuck you, we’re not at war here)
KPIs
Bandwidth
Synergy
Etc.

The newest one? Apparently we’re encouraged to not use the word “reuse” anymore. Now we have to say “upcycle” (ded fkin srs).

This is some Orwellian Newspeak motherfucking cocksucking bullshit.

Why do I have to talk like half a phag at work?

I’m just trying to earn money to pay my bills FFS.

Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays

...

"Morning.. how's it going?"

"Living the dream bro! Living the dream!"

Or...

"Just another day in paradise!"

My reps are on recharge so I'll have to put a pin in it and circle back when I find the bandwidth, but I want to commend you for your laser focused synergy on the frontlines of OB, a true KPI!

Let's touch base offline to further discuss

My old manager used this phrase all the time. There was always sorrow behind his facade though. He ended up dropping dead at like 39 years old from Covid (he was obese, probably from years of dat dere wagie lifestyle).

I pray to God I don’t suffer a similar fate…

Let's not get into the weeds too much

In the dim glow of his computer screen, GuineaDago585 stared at the misc section of the Obnoxious Brutes forum, teeth gritted, mind fraying, the newest thread practically whispering salvation. He had just typed out a post that perfectly captured his soul’s slow death by corporate bullshit:

“I feel like I’m in a fucking insane asylum listening to these people speak. It’s all phony nonsense…”

He hit enter and leaned back, feeling the gray walls of his cubicle close in. Around him, coworkers murmured in the sacred tongue of middle management: circle back… put a pin in it… touch base offline… — every phrase a little dagger in his sanity. Above it all, the office’s new white noise machine droned tirelessly, humming like some sinister mechanical god, a sterile river of static attempting to drown out human life, but really just making the cube feel like a coffin with a soundtrack.

Frontlines. KPIs. Bandwidth. Synergy.

He wanted to scream these words back at them, to shred them from their polished lips and shove the pieces down the throats of whoever decided this was “productive language.” But no. He was trapped, a human battery, chained to the fluorescent glow, forced to nod and smile as if “laser-focused” could magically turn this soul-deadening purgatory into something meaningful.

Then came the latest Orwellian decree: “reuse” was forbidden. Henceforth, it would be “upcycle.” He read it again, then again, making sure his eyes weren’t hallucinating. Upcycle. Ded fkin srs. He pictured himself wandering the office with a chainsaw, cutting the word “upcycle” out of the air and replacing it with “fuck this,” but corporate reality, like a cruel game show, demanded he keep paying bills and pretending to be human.

He returned to the misc section, fury bubbling:

“This is some Orwellian Newspeak motherfucking cocksucking bullshit. Why do I have to talk like half a phag at work? I’m just trying to earn money to pay my bills FFS.”

His post was like a flare fired into the digital void, attracting sympathetic nods, a few virtual high-fives, and the occasional troll asking if he really was that unhinged. He grinned, letting the chaos of the misc section fuel him. Here, at least, the madness had structure.

He imagined tomorrow, trudging back to his cubicle, the white noise machine buzzing above him like a tiny, unfeeling executioner. Meetings would drone on with the meaningless lingo: “synergy,” “bandwidth,” “KPIs,” as if saying the words could magically summon productivity from the void. He’d nod, he’d type, he’d smile. But secretly, he’d be rehearsing the perfect scream, the one that could shatter glass and decorum alike.

Because here’s the thing: the office wasn’t just a job. It was a horror show, a Kafkaesque sitcom, a daily grind of soul extraction. And GuineaDago585, armed with his forum-fueled rage, was the darkly comedic antihero, laughing into the void while the world insisted he “upcycle” his humanity.

Tomorrow, the white noise would hum, the buzzwords would fly, the coffee would taste like ash, and he would survive. But tonight, in the glow of the misc section, he was free. Free to curse, to rant, to be absurdly, gloriously human in a world that wanted him polite and compliant. And somehow, in that small rebellion, he felt victorious.

Get a tradie job or stfu

I woke up not feeling it today, so I just put working from home on my calendar and stayed home.

Can we add this column to the report (translation - can you add this column to the report)

This is what you get for working a job meant for adult women daycare

You'd be much happier as a tradie

jfl at peak goyim speak

tfw tradie so don't have to deal with that nonsense

That annoys me to no end. I think it probably has to do a lot with women in the workplace (no sexisto). Women are well-studied to have much less direct communication in general, and this speech pattern seems reflective of that.

I have to listen to this crap all day.....

"Hey man, how's it going?
-"Oh you know......Just living the dream."-"
-"Yeah me too. Just somebody's else's........LOL!"

this is why i lift. Test drops too low from doing office work srs

Perfect, let's put a pin on it, circle back and touch base offline another time.

Tabling this discussion until we can circle the wagons and re-engage

How did you become an officecel to begin with? All the men I know without a college degree are in manufacturing

Upcycle is the worst. It's up there with sustainability. I hate that word, too.

I’d rope

The shit I really hate is March Madness... White MFs who normally don't give one single shit about basketball suddenly become experts for a month.

"Oh man you crazy! Illinois got no defense!"

"Maryland was HANDLING that ball last night son!"

SO glad its only once a year.. So glad.

you don't sound like a real team player, we are all in this together.

try and be the first person in the office, and the last person to leave.

always remember to lead by example and pull the slack.

Op is microagressing

Retool for the upswing

Yeah man, it really does. I can feel it happening. My energy levels are down, my libido is down, I’m getting more visceral fat, even my voice seems higher pitched than before. These days I lift maybe 1-3 days a week depending how mentally fried I am. When I first started working here I was hitting the gym 5-6 days a week. I used to be fucking jacked bro. This office life has destroyed me.


I don’t even know man. I just kinda fell into it. After I graduated high school I tried applying to a bunch of different blue collar jobs. My ultimate goal was to become a commercial real estate developer, so I tried for related jobs. All of my applications were rejected. I ended up getting hired at a department store and took it because I needed the money.

A couple years later I got fired from that job and tried pursuing the tradie route again. Same result. Only this time I also applied to a few white collar jobs out of desperation. The one that hired me was an office based sales position. After that I went to a temp agency and because my resume was better suited for office work, that’s where they sent me. The rest is history.

I am the only man in my family or friend group that is an officel though. My dad was a janitor who owned a landscaping business on the side. My grandpa was a handyman and also owned a bar. My uncle ran a club. My cousins are butchers, plumbers, mechanics, etc. My best friend is a sheet metal union tradie. Another friend is a bus driver. I’m literally the only office worker. It’s humiliating srs.