Corporate Debauchery- escaping the monotony of your 9-5 job

For those unfortunate to be in a job you don’t like, here are a couple of interesting exercises to relieve the repetitiveness of your daily grind. It should be noted, that assessing the ineptness of your immediate supervisor or HR manager before carrying out such activities is very important.

Maximizing your lunch time

A much often overlooked and under assessed loophole in corporate Jamaica. Take your packed lunch to work and under the pretense of going to the bathroom; chow down on your food. The result will remove your hunger AND still allows you a one hour break to either visit your significant other for a quick shag or get interviewed for that job opening without letting your boss know your business.

Office Olympics

Leaving an active lifestyle at college or high school to enter the mundane tasks of a job can have disastrous effects on an individual’s mental health. For those who are used to having an active lifestyle, engaging in some blood pumping Office Olympics is the right way to regain that lost adrenaline rush. There are a number of things you can do, but this activity requires some amount of space so choose wisely. It’s always suggested that the activities have a reward, such as the victor buys lunch, etc.

Office Hurdles

Place about three to five desks in front of each other and see who can jump over each faster. This is a true test of endurance and will get your blood pumping and even make you sweat, so reserve this one for when your boss is guaranteed not to be back for an hour at least.

Office Equipment Hammer

Sick of that old wired mouse or keyboard on your desk? Too embarrassed to carry your significant other in your office, fearing ridicule. Stationary Hammer get’s rid of any prehistoric equipment and forces your boss to get on board with wireless technology. Stationary Hammer works with immediate effect, is gratifying and requires the least exertion of energy for entertainment. Whether it be stationary, or electronics, simply grab any tethered piece of office equipment, whirl it around your head and aim for the coffee mug by the annual report. Your boss will realize the disastrous effects wired technology poses to the continuance and timeliness of the organization and upgrade to wireless technology.

Partition Pole-vaulting

A must have for this exercise is a mop from the janitor’s closet and …well a partition. I recommend that you not use partitions higher than 5ft for obvious reasons. Simply get ready your mop, make sure that partition isn’t wobbly, that there’s a decent landing space behind it (void of thumbtacks) and hurl yourself over it!

Politically Correct Sexual Harassment

Unfortunately in Jamaica, we’re a nation believing in cheap labor, so most females at an office aren’t rather appealing to the eye. For obvious reasons, this doesn’t seem to apply to females working at Air Jamaica or Scotia Bank though.

For those in drab 9-5 paper shuffling jobs, you have to resort to females that unfortunately smell like Brut aerosol, constantly scratch their heads to alleviate the symptoms of wearing cheap horse hair (weaves) and leak folds of skin from the openings of their uniforms.

Use this approach if you so happen to be blessed with a lil browning at the office:

For the first few days, give her a head nod in the morning followed by a quick, “What’s’ up?” After that’s been done, ask her for her MSN name and start including her in the forwarding of nasty emails you ever received, but be sure that you also email everyone in your list. Depending on her response, you can then assume she’s a prude or she can be hit be hit on. Either way you’re technically not in trouble and you have actually found out if she’s a freak or not without having a five minute corridor meeting about her exes.

God’s gift to employees- MSN Messenger

And on the third day, god created the horse, which through the centuries, evolved into use as a beast of burden- carting mail in the 17^th century and then was taken over by the internet. If there was anything more necessary to getting through a paper shuffling day, it would be this program. Be careful though, the more boring your job is the more likely you’ll get caught using it.

My Seed Is My Own!

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You know you're getting old when a bunch of college friends are falling into the social trap of marriage or producing babies.

Not that I haven't been propositioned a few times for the ‘bliss’ of the old ball and chain routine, but the circumstances were all a bit peculiar. The females were more interested in commissioning me for my essence in order to produce the perfect offspring. In their eyes, it seems, my mojo, but the lack of my actual person, would contribute to producing the perfect child, as I am of good build, lacking in excess fat, smart, amusing, and I have “nice eyes”. There was one particular female, who a bit on the plump side, raved constantly about not wanting a fat baby- that being the main reason my seed was in high demand.

As females get older, it’s quite obvious that they have a yearning to get knocked up. Unfortunately for them there is not enough males in their age group that are willing to facilitate such actions, as for men, the older they get the less likely they want to knock a female up. As each year passes and another conquering notch is added to a man’s belt, he realizes that this mating routine can be followed for the rest of his days. Why limit yourself to a measly vagin-a-day, when there is a fruitful abundance of naïve, impressionable young lasses, fresh into University that need some father like guidance in the areas of love. If all middle aged men were to be wed at 30-35, who would be there to guide the 19 year old females in the becoming of age positioning orders of, “ No honey, turn around...that’s right, arch your back and raise it up for daddy now...” ?

For some reason the media normally portrays males commissioned just for their sperm, as packers of fudge (fudge-packers). I’ve never had the slightest inclination to take part in such activities. It’s probably a period of dementia that’s experienced by females as the biological clock ticks. Sperm hungry, and wanting to nurture they're out and about sizing up any male they're close to for a ‘smalls’. This eagerness to ‘spit one out’ probably can be linked to all the cases of teacher on student sex that’s been taking place. Unfortunately I never got to experience that....bleh!

Dear Portia, Jesus himself isn't capable of turning your frog into a prince.

Dear Portia,

We've all been victims of the mindset caused by fairytale books during childhood. We should probably believe that because of your rough upbringing and lack of 'the finer things in life' due to your childhood poverty, that you would have been void of such a mindset- but obviously not.

Errald Miller, your husband, sadly, is ugly. There's no kiss in the world even from the lips of one who does the bidding of God, that shall change him from a purple, spotted, CWJ employee, to a handsome and slender prince. He's always been ugly and will continue to be so until he has been seen the bottom of a vehicles tire, trying to cross the road, after hopping out of a nearby water source.

Toad-like resemblances and having a boatload of money doesn't necessarily mean that a man is attractive. Then again, when you think about it, if both individuals in a relationship have similar disguised aesthetic 'qualities'- you and your infamous wig and Errald and his unassuming face of success, then maybe, just maybe you where both made for each other...

Portia Sends Subliminal Message to The Country

Thanks to one of my minions for making me aware of this picture in the Observer.

During some debate the other day Sista P was photographed doodling on a piece of paper. What many aren't aware of is that this was an actual planned subliminal message leaked to the public about her true feelings on the Trafigura incident. As the leader of any country, it's recommended, as well as being standard procedure, to back and defend members of your team that have dealt in shady or immoral negotiations. To do otherwise would mean to cause ill-will to your party and not have ‘backatives’ when you ass is also on the line and being speculated as to why you have to keep purchasing a spanking brand new Mitsubishi Pajero, each year, when you really don't need one.

The doodles are easily deciphered by persons keen on subliminal messages. Since I've had the pleasure of seeing many of my male friends get subliminal messages given to them by females totally un-interested in their advances, watched all the “Indiana Jones” movies and predicted my grade 6 teachers demise after using a Ouija board, I think it makes me a master in decoding anything.

The man drawn is clearly Colin Campbell, based on the "V" shaped receding hairline. Who else would she be drawing? There isn’t a bigger upset going on in her life- other than her husband’s capabilities in the bedroom- and the picture is obviously not representative of him. For this to be Errald Miller the doodle would need vast amounts of body fat located in the mid section and a frog like appearance with supporting pizza face.

The two cups/ mugs/ glasses/ represent the solidification of a deal. When persons/organisations made less than desirable deals in the 17th century, a deal was bonded by the drinking of an alcoholic beverage. Nowadays with the introduction of paperwork and the paper trails they leave, this tradition is more relevant and necessary.

The triangle makes reference to a standard black-magic symbol called the "Uthurak". The symbol is used in black- magic as a placeholder for the infamous "666" symbol. Each corner represents three countries, each with 6 members dedicated to doing the bidding of the dark lord, Mufasatinoram. Based on the local political atmospher, we all know that Jamaica is one of these countries and one of the members in the league is undoubtedly Omar Davies.

Portia has made it common knowledge that she has rooted herself as a vessel of the almighty lord. She does ‘HIS’ bidding and is incapable of backing any unchristian like conduct 100%- hence her 'leaked' picture to the public- it is the result of the clash betwee her consciousness bothering her and her role as a political leader. Unfortunately she has made it her mission to merge church and state-a bold move, but any one knowing of history past surely knows of all the circumstances and moments that such a move has sunken nations into oblivion.

More Sista P updates coming soon...

J. Sheezy goes corporate...bitches!

Ya that's right, your boy J. Sheez got published..twice!

Look in stores for the latest publication of High Society's Entertainment Magazine to see my reviews on Busy Signal and you guessed it...relationships, entitled," There is no Ms. Right", with 'stunning' life-like graphical representations of the hooches mentioned within.

Unfortunately the latter article has been wishy washed down a lil bit on the creative side, so if you want to see the uncensored version check out the link on ma blog page!

Holla!
J. Sheezy

What you SHOULD HAVE given your mom for Mothers Day

This mothers day, try and take the Jim Screechy approach: against social norms. Try something unconventional and witty.

This mothers day I'm giving my mother the ultimate gift, the gift that keeps giving and also affords me the oppurtunity to NEVER have to buy her another gift for the rest of my life!

I say try it. What's this gift? It's called "Continued Independence from your parents"- I won't ask you for anything, you dont ask me for shite for another couple of years mom. Holla!

J. Sheezy

Portia 'Sista P' Simpson spawns a plague of uppity females in Jamaica

Uppity Yardy Female: any female, post- Portia winning the election, that has a revamped sense of 'feminine pride' generated by the actuality that a lady originating from the working class of Jamaican society has elevated herself to the elite heights of a Country's Government.

Ok so Portia won. The mystique has caused somewhat of a feminine uprising Yardy style. There seems to have been the start of something called “The Sista P Woman’s Nationalist Front”- No pun intended. Her victory has done more than just make history as Jamaica’s first female Prime Minister; it has inspired and created a horde of females riding the band wagon of her fame and success. Females that haven’t achieved a tenth of her accomplishments, but now have her attitude, or the attitude of a bitch (for lack of a better word) and are popping up islandwide, justified by mere association of being a female.

During my daily routine tasks of being “just some dude”, unfortunately I have come across the unsolicited wrath of such females. They range from scabby security guard to corporate elites. One thing for sure is that despite their occupation, their self esteem and confidence have reached bloodthirsty, castrating- feminist proportions- which poses a near physical, emptional and verbal threat to Jamaican males.

1.Male/Female/ She-He @ Burger King, Barbican Road

Unfortunately, for the sake of my mental health, I came across this human deviation while getting food. This attendant, while taking my order seemed to be going through a personal dilemma in his/her life, but seemed to draw strength from Sista P’s success. He/She while taking my order gave me an attitude while I merely fumbled around in my wallet trying to find my debit card. For some reason unknown to me, I guess he/ she thought I wasn’t important enough to be waited on, and started looking from side to side in disbelief and disgust as I was baffled as what to choose on the menu.

Sorry Mr. /Ms. Important Burger King cashier for taking time out of your highly stressful job of pressing buttons on a keypad, and salting the fries, to attend to me, the dude that helped pay for those ghastly floral shirt you and your cronies wear.

2. The absent female employees of Michaels Restaurant, 141 B Constant Spring Road.

I live in the Kingston 8 area and being a bachelor I need my cooked food when necessary. The females at Michaels Restaurant sure do cook a good BBQ meal and prior to the elections have been very accommodating to my whining and haste at the counter as I grovel at the smell in the restaurant.

Post elections, upon entering the premises, I have almost always come across this image. Not one subservient female in sight as I walked through the front doors of the restaurant.Even after the door squeaks open, they still wait for you to bang on the rusty bell, placed on the counter before they come out to take your order.

3. Feisty Cashier at office compound tells me I can't bore in the line, even if I pre-ordered my food.

Where I order my lunch, there are one bag of grease-laden, smelly college students, and I sure as hell am not fighting through a lunch line, like the days of high school , only to get my fancy office attire all messed up. To prevent this I make sure to call the cashier and give her my order.

All of a sudden after Portia winning, I man have to stand up in line JUST to pick up my order. What a brute! I also have to find exact change quick, quick so as not to hold up the line! :S

4. Miscellaneous walk foot Gas Station Attendant @ Texaco in Barbican (foot of Jack’s Hill)

This uppity bitch had the nerve to ask me if MY 1993 Toyota REALLY used 90 Octane?? What the hell is she trying to say- that my car is old and only look like it can use 87 octane??

After I put her in her place she ALSO has the nerve to walk of and say to her grease laden colleagues how,”Everytime da bwoy come here, is pure $100 gas him a buy!” Not only do I NOT see this woman driving to work in her OWN car, she has the nerve to talk down to me because a nigga is on a budget? Who does she think she is?? I hope there's a gas leak at that station and she bites the dust like Joan of Arc did- on Fire!

Fassy of the Year

Fassy or Fossy (fossy ’ē), n. pl.-ies. - individual deemed to be unsupportive, pessimistic of methods and logistics of another person . “Bad minded” personality and criminal intent can be also factors of subject. Also, just being a plain out meanie and grump! :-(

Hello minions, there is someone fighting out the struggle for free speech, opinion, and rhetoric!

If you see this vagrant please wipe his window at a stop light, beg him for money or slash his “Right down to the wire” tires. (No I’m not talking about the hit Kanye West song)

Subject can be seen frequenting the area of Kingston 5 as well as that there swampy part of Portmore via the causeway bridge. He is sometimes hidden under the inexpensive disguise of a raggedy, sun burned, blue New York Yankees baseball cap that has seen better years…about say seven years ago! If that disguise evades your person, you can unquestionably identify him driving on the road. Firstly you will be duped into believing an old dump truck is approaching, but on receiving a confirmation visual, you’ll realize that the truck sound that you heard approaching is non other that the engine of the jalopy heap that he somehow relies on to get him from point “A” to “B”.

Not only has he been against the Jim Screechy foundation; in earlier years he had proved extremely unsupportive and critical to anything not originated solely by his person.

After which, while seeing the success of your plights, not to mention the mad groupies rushing you, he will attempt to rip-off your creative ideas in the guise of coming up with the same exact idea that you had. These attempts although similar in nature will reap the spoiled fruits of unoriginal behavior and soon will have amassed internet cobwebs, six-legged creatures and most compelling of all- ZERO COMMENTS on each and every article posted on his blog, resulting in the haunting of his psyche and most embarrassing- asking The J. Sheezy for creative help! Punishment is not yet served!

If you capture the individual you will be rewarded a meet and greet with me, where you will be expected to buy my person a tasty meal. You may or may not be allowed to come in contact with me- that decision is solely dependant on the presence of you owning real live pear shaped boobs and a killer ass, after which the decision will gravitate to a “Hell Yeah!” (Disclaimer: No hermaphrodites, sex change patients need not apply!)

One photo opportunity is included in the deal, all else will have to be paid for and those proceeds will be put to a worthy but expensive cause- visiting my friends in Portmore.

Chiney pinches, Noogies, gut punches and constant kicking in the ass are acceptable as punishment. Theft of the tarnished silver chain he holds dear to his heart, found around his neck is suggested in order to bestow extreme emotional distress. But please don’t kill him- he’s my best friend.

Ask Jim Screechy!

Have ANY question you would like to answer?
ANY question? Why use a web search or flip through a dictionary when you can ask Jim Screechy.

I offer personalised detailed answers to ANY question that you may pose whether it be solutions to everyday questions that are boggling your mind, political questions, social questions, I'll answer them free of cost!

To hell with Ms. Cleo and those psychic wannabees! I'll give you the real deal, straight up!

Just leave your question in the form of a "comment" and I'll be sure to reply!

(FOR EACH QUESTION POSTED, THERE WILL BE A $500.00 DONATION TO THE LISTA GILBY SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF, SO DO YOUR PART TO CONTRIBUTE!)

Holla!

J. Sheezy

Maroons Angry??

"What you talkin' bout willis??!!"

It seems the USA is bringing its domineering power to the Caribbean.

Some fancy shmansy US company wants to build a casino in the Accompong village in JA.

Did some research on why US companies like to make cash cows in derelict places, no matter where it is:

What the f*&ck are you still doing- wearing traditional outfits.

It seems that US stance in developing the area is more of a friendly caring push to us natives to ask ourselves “What the fuck are we still doing- wearing traditional slave out fits? It’s the 20^th century!”

Do you notice that the majority of these casinos are built in places, where locals still hunt for food instead of buying it? Where the language is still” abba dabbo doo daa” and not “May I have some grey poupon please?”

What benefit is it to still have Jamaicans walking around in post slavery garments beating dutch pan covers together and stamping bare feet in the dirt?.

Other than the obvious, “To keep or heritage.”, please leave a suitable comment….