We have a new MBA on our team. He's taking over my job (and I gotta say, an MBA taking my job is pretty sad; he's gonna hate it, or he's going to be a lot better at it because he's actually organized). He's a Honky; that's what they call Hong Kong Chinese in the expatriate community. So the guy comes into my cube and we're talking about the process to get invoices paid, and I told him that our secretary is nice and all, but when she puts an account number on an invoice, you can't trust it.
"Can't truss it," he says.
"Yeah."
"Can't TRUSS it," he says again in his foriegn accent.
"Yeah, you can't," I say.
"No, man! Pubric Enemy! It's a song, man!"
I Google it and find that yes, indeed it is a Pubric Enemy song. 'This guy is cool. We're going for beers after work.
The JobBlog. Finally.
. . . 