Oops!....I Did It Again

Trading places

Last night I hit yet another milestone. Or perhaps a new low, depending on your viewpoint.

It was a typical evening and I was casually going about my routine. I disrobed, preparing to shower, when out of the blue, a strong urge to defecate seized me. I quickly re-robed and made the 10-yard dash to the latrine. A bit close for comfort, but crisis averted.

I ambled back into the house and started showering, convinced that the last five minutes was just a single speed bump in otherwise smooth night.  Just moments after I finished rinsing my hair, a sudden, unmistakable feeling returned. It’s back for revenge.

Bent over in discomfort, I weighed possible options. I was naked and wet. Mr. Poo was not going to wait for me to find clothes, a headlamp, and make it to the latrine. Try again.

No time to find a plastic bag (that’s a story for another post, I promise). Plus, all of the bags are under the cot. Bending over at this critical juncture would be asking for a wall painting that would surely clash with our current decoration. The wife wouldn’t be pleased. Try again.

I was quickly running out of time and options. I looked around the room, grasping for ideas. What now!? My eyes came to rest upon the cat’s litter box. Hmm…

If it’s good enough for the cat, it’s good enough for me, right? Given Mr. Poo’s insistence, this was truly the only option. So I squatted over the sand, and let ‘er go. The first test squirt hit the floor, so I quickly adjusted the angle of my hips. The second, much larger release was an absolute success - nothing but sand.

Proportionally, however, I could have used a much larger litter box. Even with two well-fed cats we may change the litter box once a week. My one episode filled the damn thing. I surveyed the damage, hoping the cats didn’t have any of their own business to attend to – this litter box was officially closed for cleaning. I’ve clogged or destroyed many toilets in my day, but this was the first time I’d shut down a sandbox.

I stepped one foot to my right and finished showering. Weird… but handy. Clean up could wait until morning.

I dread changing the litter box on a normal day, but cleaning up an over-filled box of my own feces? Not the way to start the day. I considered leaving it there, blaming the cats, and once my wife returned home, nicely reminding her that it was her turn to change the litter box.  But being the gentleman I am, I faced the music. Husband of the Year nominee, perhaps?

I did some research for this post on the internet and I’m a little disappointed. Apparently, I’m not the first person to defecate into a litter box. A teenager did it as a party trick. He also taped it and posted it on YouTube. Not to be outdone, I’m posting a photo of my aftermath. Scroll down to see it, if you dare.

Normally, this post should go up on the “other” blog, since it relates directly to Peace Corps service. But I’m sure my better half is going to veto it. If you think it belongs alongside my other “gems” let her know!

Warning: you know you’re scrolling to a photo of poop, right?

Continue at your own risk.

You have been warned.

Moments after...

Organizational (D)evolution

The recent high-profile public resignations of Greg Smith (Goldman Sachs) and James Whittaker (Google) from their respective companies have created quite a stir and caused a recurrence of my own intense feelings of dislike for my former employer, OptumHealth (a subsidiary of UnitedHealth Group). Looking back, I wish I had taken the opportunity to leave in a similar “up yours” fashion. But hindsight is 20/20, so I guess crapping in the trashcan on my way out will have to suffice.

It’s hard to be excited (hell, not embarrassed) working for a company that is continually under fire for cheating the system and putting profits over customers. Examples include, but are not limited to:

• Stock option backdating scandal of former CEO William McGuire (2006)
• Current CEO Steve Hemsley’s option backdating scandal (1997, 2008)
• Leadership with ties to Arthur Andersen, Enron’s now defunct partner-in-crime
• Denying claims of thousands of policyholders
• Manipulating “reasonable & customary rates” (2008), costing customers millions
• UHG’s lobbying activities and political contributions during health care reform
• Pushing employees to contact congressman, attend town hall meetings, and help sway health care reform
• A list of lawsuits and settlements bigger than NYC’s phonebook
• Double-digit , above-inflation rate increases (sure, health care isn’t broken)
• Working to constrain benefits for people who are currently uninsured

I could keep going, but I’m getting writer’s cramp. I lived through the days of health care reform and it was entertaining to see how nervous management became over the idea of “a public option.” For a company so convinced that private is better, they sure tried hard to limit or block competition.

I wasted two long, painful years that I will never get back. But in spite of the soul-destroying work, the time at OptumHealth inspired my theory of organizational (d)evolution. I posit that like organisms, companies (d)evolve by means of natural selection – a gradual, nonrandom process by which specific traits become either more or less common in an employee population as a function of culture and promotion practices. The selection of individual traits affects the (d)evolution of the greater organization.

Day after day, I parked my 2007 Beagle at the shores of OptumHealth and observed life in cubeland. This routine allowed me to notice a few interesting characteristics that seemed to permeate the organization.

The wretched culture, tedious work, and lack of development opportunities caused abnormally high employee turnover. This toxic atmosphere caused the best and brightest employees to leave as fast as they could for greener pastures. It was so bad, that some employees even left in the midst of the financial crisis before they had another job lined up. We were chronically over-worked and understaffed. Management cared little since their budgets looked better - one less FTE (person) to pay. A few brave employees tried to stay around just long enough to reap the benefits of title inflation – rampant at UHG (I was CEO of my cubical region).

When it came time to fill holes, there were few quality employees to promote. So who becomes manager? The best of the worst. Management at Optum was incredibly inept. This promote-the-last-man-standing phenomenon only made a bad situation worse. Bad managers then hire people with traits similar to their own (more poor employees) and simply drove out good employees.

At UHG, the number of hours worked is continually selected as the single most valuable employee trait. It’s no wonder they demand and reward long hours from employees. When left with a company full of average to below average employees, UHG leadership must fully embrace the infinite monkey theorem – with a sufficient number of monkeys working on Excel spreadsheets long enough, they will eventually stumble upon the correct analysis. Or calculate exactly how much money UHG is stealing from its customers and the health care system.

So in the end, UHG sees their most capable, intelligent, “strongest” employees leave for better companies, leaving the less talented, less intelligent, morally bankrupt employees to promote into management positions. My theory suggests that if and when the devolved UHG is forced to play fair or face a real competitive environment, they will be the first health care company to go the way of the dodo.  You won’t be missed.

The Baby Explosion

Dear Facebook Users,

There is a problem of increasing severity plaguing Facebook. There has been an explosion of baby photos and the crisis hasn’t been contained to just albums - profile photos, the new large “timeline” photos, and continuous status updates are all affected. Babies are taking over Facebook.

Not everyone is fond of baby pictures. Babies doing baby things just aren't interesting or newsworthy and every time I login I feel like I’m walking though Babies ‘R Us.

Luckily I have a simple, painless solution: Sign your baby up for its own Facebook account. Those who care about your specific baby can friend it. Those who don’t care to see baby’s first poop can remain friends of friends. The solution allows mothers to continue posting photos, without cluttering the news feed.

I’m not alone. I posted a very short version of this entry on my profile and within minutes “likes” were pouring in like sperm racing to fertilize an egg. The overwhelming majority supported the idea and was equally fed up by the near constant procession of babies.

Dear Mark Zuckerberg,

What did you think would happen when Facebook’s 2004 college adopters started reproducing? The time has come. I understand Facebook currently has a 13-year old age minimum, but my solution is in the best interest of Facebook, its shareholders, and the future of the internet.

If you’re not a “fan” of simply dropping the age restriction altogether, perhaps you can start by requiring sub-13’s to have a guardian account co-owner. Parents can sign up their children and monitor their kids’ accounts (if they’re not already the ones posting all the photos). If parents want to post photos of their kids all over the internet for pedophiles to stalk, it’s their decision. Free country, right?

Mark, think about the explosion of users! You want to reach 1 billion? This is the fastest way. Want to boost that IPO valuation? Eliminate the age restriction and support children accounts. Plus think of that ad revenue and market data. I can hear you salivating.

Dear Facebook Users,

Thanks for staying with me. Those who have married, changed names, and use a baby photo as their profile photo – I don’t even know who you are!

I understand your desire to share your baby photos with close friends and families. But I don’t believe Facebook is the best venue. Your profile is about you. Naturally, that would warrant posting photos of family and friends. But some of you have reverted to a single topic: baby. Single topic internet sites should be contained on a separate blog. Friends and family can follow baby there.

Some loving mothers countered my argument with:

“just unfriend me” or “block people with babies”

This solution defeats the purpose. I want to be friends with you. I care about what goes on in your life. If there was a “block babies only” button I would use it. But alas, there isn’t. So here we are.

If you sign up baby for its own account, someday it will thank you. When you turn over the reins to its account (13th birthday perhaps?) baby will have a timeline/scrapbook of life events.

Problem solved. Facebook saved. You’re welcome, Mark. I got your back.

Respectfully yours,

clocksucker

clocksucker

I’ve been considering starting this blog for some time but it took a perfect storm of events for me to take the plunge.

I’m not going to admit that I lost any blog competition – this is a marathon, not a sprint. John’s new Away From The Cubicle blog, however, upped the ante and I need more frequent, more entertaining posts. While I am somewhat limited by internet access and time to write, consider this the competition.

My other blog provides a fine venue, but it’s targeted to a different audience. It’s supposed to be about Peace Corps experiences (and it’s being watched by big brother). I’ve written many posts that get rejected by my better half on the grounds that they are off-topic or will offend our readers. My dreams and creativity are crushed because of easily offended prudes and children. For that, I don’t like you.

Released from the shackles, clocksucker will allow me to write on a wider variety of topics meant to entertain and offend a larger audience. I am free to develop strange new products or reflect on current events. I can provide commentary on the idiocy of American politics and pop culture. And I’ll simply observe the reality in which we live.

clocksucker Rules:

· If you’re easily offended, do not read

· Don’t be full of yourself. You are not the inspiration for the post, so don’t be upset with me.

· Waste time & come back often

clocksucker: two parts brain fart, one part brilliance.

Dookie Cup

While prepping for Peace Corps service in Africa, I spent an abnormal amount of time in REI buying and perusing outdoor gear. Bug huts, air mattresses, headlamps…it became so excessive that employees knew me by name.

Looking back, all that time and money may or may not have been worth it, but I learned of an incredible product that I never knew existed - The Diva Cup. When I first laid eyes on the DivaCup I initially thought it was a joke, yet I wasn’t in a windowless store on the outskirts of town, surrounded by truckers. As I read the package, it seemed legit. I soon learned that many women in my life already knew of this product. Some had used it themselves or knew friends who had.

Visit www.divacup.com to learn more about his fascinating device.

However, once in Peace Corps Africa, I learned that while caring for menstrual cycles is extremely important, it isn’t the most basic need of volunteers. Menstruation only affects 50% of the population, 25 % of the time, but defecation affects everyone. Every day if you’re lucky. And not only do Peace Corps volunteers defecate abnormally often, they frequently fill their pants, and even their beds. It. happens so regularly that it is said that you’re not a true volunteer until you have soiled your pants. And so an idea was born.

The Dookie Cup

The Dookie Cup is an eco-friendly alternative to adult diapers or simply crapping your pants. The Dookie Cup is a non-absorbent fecal cup that collects anal flow. The Dookie Cup is inserted into the rectum and sits comfortably on the anal sphincter. When placed properly it cannot be felt nor will leak. It protects against “sharts” and all other forms of anal seepage.

The Dookie Cup is the cleanest, most efficient way to protect against anal incontinence. It can be worn up to 12 hours or until full. But once filled, it can be easily removed, cleaned and re-inserted with no mess!

The Dookie Cup is a perfect alternative to adult diapers. More eco-friendly, more respected.

Have you ever…

• Backed slowly out of a room of your peers praying your briefs will support the added weight of your newborn
  

• Awoken in a pile of your own feces, forced to change the sheets, again

• Waddled to the restroom (or latrine) to survey the damage of a sudden surge

• Mistaken a fart for a “shart”

• Been forced to shower after an especially messy visit to the bathroom

• Embarrassed yourself by leaving a trail of feces trail while walking or biking

• Allowed a skidmark to ruin a romantic encounter
  

Dookie Cup Features & Benefits:

Sleek and discreet – no one knows you’re wearing “the Dook.”

Great for any occasion! Worn internally, thus can be worn with swimsuits, with thongs, dress slacks or anything!

Eco-friendly : each year millions of adult diapers and soiled underwear are thrown into landfills

Available in two sizes: regular and “inmate”

Avoid unsightly skidmarks – save hundreds on stain removers!

Lose the all-too-noticeable panty lines of diapers

Avoid hot, sticky plastic briefs or sheets

The Dookie Cup significantly reduces your eco-footprint while providing the most convenient, clean, reliable, and comfortable way to address the inevitable issues associated with fecal incontinence.

Dookie Cup. Live with confidence.