Tuesday, July 17, 2012

5 Kinds of Moron At Every Job: #5 The Placator

5 Kinds of Moron At Every Job


#5 The Placator


I don't think I'm retarded--oh, you think...I'm retar--
then, well, yeah sure, sure I'm retarded.

      This--fucking guy,  is commonly mistaken for a "yes man". The mistake being that "yes men", assume that with constant agreement with managers and supervisors, they'll be rewarded with professional success. They do it to get ahead and are usually only a "yes man" at work. Usually.


Why?! WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS?!?

      Outside of the work, "yes men" have favorite teams, movies, turkey basting methods, etc., all of which they are more than willing to defend, against your onslaught of raging stupid inferiority. Captain Placate, however, agrees to everything--because he doesn't have the man parts, brain power or social standing to argue.

      Experience, I suppose, has taught him that being agreeable is a safer way to make and keep friends. Having your own opinion and sticking with it can bring ridicule, condemnation and your underwear being forcibly wedged in your ass crack. Who the fuck wants that? It's better to go with the flow, right?



Or is it better to stop the flow?

      While placating seems like the easy way to win the hearts and minds of an adoring public, it's actually--not. Kowtowing works well for a newly purchased sexual partner or winning board games against yourself but, it's not good on the job. Everyone just sees you as an idiot who's good for a "Watch! this malleable prick will agree to anything!" joke or two...and little else for a while. Then, it quickly moves onto annoyance induced anger...maybe a pepper spraying.

HOW TO NOT BE THAT GUY:

      It's okay to have your own opinion, I promise. Be it a tough stance regarding the masculinity of penis to penis touching, whether a popular cartoon is secretly a covert homosexual agenda or the "fuckability" of Paula Deen, most schools of thought are accepted by most. Your opinion doesn't even have to be a good one either. Thinking it's alright to touch your penis against Paula Deen's penis is fine, though it might not be the crowd favorite, dammit, at least it's your own!


Mine's bigger than yours is.

      You don't even have to argue it's superiority. If a disagreement arises, simply say, "Well, everyone's entitled to their own opinion." or a variation of that (the best usually end with a "...so, fuck yourself."). It might seem weird at first, but it's better than being the chump who agrees that "herpes gets a bad rap" and "everyone should try it at least once". That guy is ridicule fodder in a skin suit.

8 comments:

  1. You forgot 'let's agree to disagree!' lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Gah! You're right. It slipped my mind. That is a viable dismissal. Nice one.

      Delete
  2. What? Paula Deen has a penis? Actually that would explain a lot.

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    1. It's a throwback to her wild and crazy truck driving days of yore. Those heady years of living the "man life", when deep frying--everything meant freedom from the confines of masculinity and the stink of hairy arm pits.

      Delete
  3. IT'S NOT A PENIS, IT'S AN AGGRESSIVELY LARGE CLIT! Sorry, I may or may not have a crush on Paula Deen. You know she would be awesome in bed. But the clean up afterwards would be a nightmare.

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    Replies
    1. There would be a lot of grease involved. Though, I've never shied away from a good sexual buttering. Next time she's in town, she's getting a phone call!

      Delete
  4. The problem is, if you allow to share their true views, they may have utterly reprehensible opinions. Like, thinking that a Hitler-themed youth club might be a good idea.

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    Replies
    1. You know, that idea never occurred to me. Maybe, you're right. Still, as mean as it sounds, I secretly hope it is horrible...simply for the entertainment value.

      "So, who do you think is going to win the big game?"

      "Me? Game? Who cares? Worshiping the Devil is where it's at! That's what I wile away my days off doing. Praise Satan and all of his black magicky neatness. Bulla, bulla, bulla."

      I'd shit my pants with amazement and fill the air with awkward laughter.

      Delete

Comment. Lest your fear consume you, cry baby.