Office Scramblings from Cubelandia


What I’ve learned from Cubelandia thus far…

1.      Washing your hands is challenging when wearing dress shirts

2.      Bathrooms are a good place to take naps.

3.      Clipping your work ID to your belt is convenient but people can see your smiling face in the bathroom stall next over when you’re pants are huddled at your ankles.


Why do so many of us take our jobs for granted? There are a plethora of unemployed out there who suffer from the daily realities of poverty. I saw a lady get fired today. The first thing I did was post on Facebook how scary it was.


Facebook is a disease; a compulsion driven by the inner rage for sexy time. Some people believe that to give up Facebook is to give up possibilities of a promising sex life. Other people claim they don’t want to get rid of Facebook because they fear they will lose touch with people, which of course would happen upon deactivation.


How many people do we need in our lives? If those people are important to you, you shouldn’t lose touch with them… right? What you do lose is the opportunity for a more active sex life because you have contact with fewer people and thus statistically fewer women. Ergo, talk to fewer potential mates.


Yet this opportunity for procreation is only perceived. It’s not like having Facebook increases the number of men and/or women you sex a year. Or maybe it does. I should conduct a study.


Office work. It’s everything I wanted in life. My very own cubicle. No having to stand outside in the cold telling people urgent political messages. No cultural barriers that come with underdeveloped countries. I get weekends off, can afford something other than the dollar menu, and can chug all the free coffee I want. Yes, I have become a model member of the dysfunctional corporate work force. Unfortunately, I’m getting used to it. What was luxurious at first is now routine… a routine that feels slightly more anesthetized each day. Soon my very means of fiscal liberation will be my imprisoner. My cubicle walls will close in on me, giving me the impulse to fuck shit up and tell co-workers they are racist.


Keeping amused is the best way to prevent the meltdowns articulated above. I do what I can. I recently came down with a case of the shingles. Shingles kept me busy for a few weeks. Every time I took a breath or swiveled in my chair, I felt the sharp neurotic wrath of God shoot through my left rib cage into my soul.


I didn’t get any skin diseases when fighting the good fight in Honduran jungles. I had to come back to America to get this non-sexy version of third-world herpes. To fight the pain, the doctor at the urgent care center gave me a bottle of percocets. The shingles and pain went away about two weeks ago.


I developed several techniques to stay amused at work.

1.      Chugging lots and lots of coffee

2.      Frequent bathroom excursions resulting from chugging lots and lots of coffee

3.      Percocets for the headaches resulting from chugging lots and lots of coffee… only a few more left. This option will soon come to a close.

4.      Scramble With Friends while sitting in the stall during the frequent bathroom excursions that result from chugging lots and lots of coffee

5.      Perfectly sizing and manipulating my web browser to avoid detection and chastising from the boss

6.        Work


Office scramblings brought to you by a cubed revolutionary, CG³



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Debbie, Me Love You Long Time

Yes, everyone has seen the Debbie me so horny, me love you long time Super Bowl ad. I wonder what the actress thought when shooting this commercial. She must have been thinking in a Chinese accent with broken English to not foresee any repercussions for this racist-ass commercial.


Supposedly the actress is well educated and boasts an impressive resume. She is UC Berkeley educated and started her own non-profit organization for at-risk youth. So why did she start singing my mother is Chinese, my father is Japanese, and look what they did to me on national television while slanting her eyes up and down?


Do I have sympathy for her because of the vengeful fallout she must be receiving from the community she sold out? Not really. But I’m not angry with her either. Truth be told, the commercial didn’t even make me angry. A voice in my head said,


“Hey Cho Guevara, that’s not cool. You should be mad.”


Instead I laughed. Of course I laughed at her, not with her – a genuine laugh at her oblivious clowning and lack of self-respect.


But now I’m annoyed. The commercial wasn’t even a parody of some sort. It was a serious political message during an intrinsically American holiday. And if it was meant as a joke, it would make me even angrier knowing that a white politician thinks it’s an appropriate joke for him to make.


I often forget that I am a minority. Last week, Amurica reminded me when I went out to drink in Brooklyn and some wealthy hipster tried to take my glasses off and spoke in Chinese to me. In his defense, he may have actually known how to speak Chinese. In my defense, it sounded like he was saying ching chong to me. I don’t speak Chinese all I heard were offensive syllables.


I often forget that mainstream America still views me as foreign. But the media and the little comments you hear from people here and there serve as little yellow flagged reminders.


We are still just ninjas in this round-eyed world.


Paz y Mucho Amor,



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Canvass Colored Eyes

I work for a political mobilization group that specializes in face-to-face interaction. We fundraise on behalf of women’s rights, anti-poverty and some other shit. Basically, I’m that wide-eyed smiling fucker who waves to you on the street like he knows you and asks you to become a child sponsor for a starving child in Africa.

What made me take this path when many more mentally stable positions are available? I want to save the world? I need to experience poverty in the developed world after getting a taste of it in the third world?

Initially, the most difficult aspect to adjust to for this job was the hate I received from strangers on the street. I see you America. I see your faces. Happy faces. Sad faces. Non-charity giving Asian faces. Douche bag faces.


Hey Sir :). How are you today? Do you have a moment to help fight child poverty?


Fuck off. I have a moment to help fight children.

Note to self: Stop stopping homeless people. Try to take a look at their shoes before you strike a conversation. If they aren’t wearing any, odds are they are homeless.


Hello sir :). You look like you care about the environment.


(Man scoffs, throws cigarette butt in my direction.)

Note to self: People are assholes.


Hello sir :). Would you like to help fight for women’s access to birth control?




Oh… thank you for this Hitler pamphlet comparing birth control pills to eugenics.

Note to self: Fuck you.

I’ve been working on a new conversation starter rather than the typical smile and a wave. Here’s what I have so far.

Hey you son of bitch. You better fucking stop and talk to me or I will slap you, you stingy piece of elitist Republican shit. Now sponsor this mother-fucking child or I will smack you with my clipboard.

The variety of people I interact with in a day and random love/hate from strangers immerses me in a wide set of emotions: grief, joy, insanity, rage, hysteria, pride, and giddiness.

Your typical activist keeps a tally of the number of people who stop to talk. Seeing as how you can expect to interact with about 20 people in a 5-hour shift, it can get boring. To keep from acting on the urge to stick my leg out when people walk by or throw a stick into people’s bicycle spokes, I keep a modified tick sheet.

Wednesday’s Tick-off Notes
2 fuck offs
1 baby killer
20 hello backs with smiles
Damn this person is yelling at me right now… :(
Fucker fuck shit shit
Don’t pretend like you don’t see me. I SEE YOU. I SEE YOU!
1 phone number from elderly Columbian tourists that asked me for directions and invited me to stay with them in Bogota the next time I go backpacking through Latin America
Bitch cock shit
2 homeless people

My first day I only raised $30 dollars. I wanted to cry and thought I may be the worst and most violent prone activist known to man. Was it my smile? Was I not non-threatening Asian enough? Did I give off a FU aura? Should I change my hair style?

Apparently, activism is a skill. And with any skill, you need practice to develop and improve.

*** Stay tuned for the next blog post… training montage in the art of canvass.

Paz y Mucho Amor,

Cho Guevara, The Grassroots Ninja

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Cultural Implications of the Halloween Harlot

The history of slutty Halloween costumes has been well chronicled since its inception in the 1900’s. But why do we wear slutty costumes? What are the cultural implications? How did a holiday meant to celebrate pagan fertility rituals turn into one that celebrated meaningless hookups? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Just curious.

I guess it only makes sense that the oldest Halloween costume tradition stems from the worlds oldest profession. In the end, aren’t we all prostitutes whoring in some form or another? The HBO series Hung tells it best. Don’t front. We are all either metaphorical or literal hookers.


Men and women alike use Halloween as an excuse to be what they secretly desire year round and it’s allowed because it’s a costume. Halloween is the one time of the year when we can take off our 364-day a year costume we call life and be what we want to be.

You don’t agree?

Look at the Crucible for your empirical data. Witches, entities commonly attributed to Halloween, were most likely burned at the stake in the Quaker days because of their adulterous ways.


Just look at that fatass. Seductive


Trick or treat?

Sounds like something a hooker would say. We learn at an early age to prostitute ourselves for the first drug we were introduced to as children – some of that sweet sugar.

Look at me. Pay me. I will wear this ridiculously awesome costume. Just gimme that Twix bar.


Halloween is the time of the year to express our inner harlot. Happy Halloween everyone. May  your inner hooker run rampant :).

Paz y Mucho Amor,

Cho Guevara

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Remake Rebuttal

Dear Cho-d,

First of all, no one can be perfect for the role of Lieutenant Kimball, Kindergarten cop. No one except Arnold Schwarzenneg circa 1990. I might accept Dwayne Johnson as Lieutenant Kimball under 2 conditions.

1. He does the movie in an Austrian accent.

2. The director recreates the fight scene between the Rock and Ernie Reyes Junior AKA Kino and Surf Ninja.

Colin Farrel as Quaid in Total Recall is a bust no matter how I look at it. Pure bullshit to have Bullseye be the younger generation’s Martian Right’s Activist. For the love of God. Think of the children.

Seeing a three boobed prostitute in Total Recall psychologically damaged me as well. Visually, two boobs would never satisfy me again… until I saw the three nippled fortune teller from Mallrats.

I will watch this movie because John Cho is my hero. John Cho or Harold from White Castle. I still have not sorted that out.

Since we are talking about new remakes… have you heard they are making an American version of the movie Oldboy?  Originally, sources said that Steven Spielberg would direct Oldboy and cast the Fresh Prince as the lead. Now the project is going to be directed by Spike Lee with Josh Brolin from W. as lead. I see some potential there. Personally I think Tim Burton should direct it and cast either Denzel in dreads or an enraged Johnny Depp. Maybe Mickey Rourke if he didn’t look like Jack Nicholson. Actually, Jack Nicholson would have been perfect for this role.

Paz y Mucho Amor,


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Ramenface-itis – though technically not a medical condition till the turn of the decade, Ramenface-itis originated during the onset of Japan’s Edo Era. In 1603 feudal Japan, local villagers often referred to the condition as Fatface-son or Godzilla. Although the Japanese invented ramen, Koreans elevated ramyun to a whole new level… 300 percent of your daily sodium intake.

The chain reaction that leads to Ramenface-itis:

  1. Eat ramen noodles
  2. Drink the delectable salt infused soup
  3. Fall asleep from the MSG content

The Average Chos warn that you will wake up with a face twice the normal size and experience symptoms comparable to a hangover.

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Remake Rant

Dear CG,

They’re remaking Total Recall.

Wtf?! They’re remaking Total Recall?!

Wtf. There seems to be a theme of  remaking Arnold movies – I believe a Conan the Barbarian movie is being released as well. I wonder if Cameron would ever allow a Terminator remake? And then there’ll be a Predator remake. And then a Kindergarten Cop remake starring Dwayne Johnson (you KNOW he’d be perfect for that role.)

But Total Recall…I hold some strong feelings for that movie. I mean the first time I ever saw it was when I was 6 or 7, but the plot is just so good. And who could ever forget the reason no one could ever find Kuato, the renown fortuneteller, was cause he was fused into George’s stomach?!!?? Kuato comes out and probes Quaid’s (Arnold) mind…. “You are what you do. A man is defined by his actions, not his memory.” And then as he’s dying, “Quaid, Quaid…Start the reactor. Free Mars… ” SO GOOD.

This movie was also the first set of boobs I had ever encountered in my life. An alien prostitute tries to entice Quaid by flashing him all three of her boobs… that was confusing for me at the time…

You would think I would be super pumped for a movie I am raving about to be remade, but I stare at the IMDB page in disgust. Total Recall (2012) will be starring Colin Farrell as Quaid. Ugh, really? It sounds like one of those “couldn’t find anyone else” situations. Although, Kate Beckinsale and Jessica Biel are playing the evil/good babes (also John Cho playing McClane) – I just can’t get over the Farrell.

I will most probably be watching it opening night.



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