Possible. But requires multiple sessions, and probably paying a lot of money because the skill required is not common. Worth the funds if you are paying a good artist. Do lots of investigation. LOTS.

I’ve been scouring portfolios for artists who have abnormally clear and crisp lines, but I’m not sure what other skills I should be looking for. Cost isn’t an issue—if I’m getting one piece of work, I want it perfect. I think I’d spend up to about a thousand (not sure if that’s a realistic figure for the work that would need to be done) if it’s done right.

I’ve thought that maybe the watercolor type artists may be the best bet, but I don’t know. 

For people with an intimate knowledge of tattoos

how hard would it be for an artist to pull of a pattern like this in a clean and beautiful manner? (band around upper forearm)

cwj replied to your post:Besides Outright Firing
Send out an email to everyone announcing the cctv system that was installed in the room last week.

Ha! I actually thought about starting a rumor that the security camera guys are coming.

Something like: “Guys, some security camera guys are coming in today to fix some playback issues we’ve been having on the stored indoor camera feed. If you see them can you let me know? I need to show them where to find the recording server.”

I would have to put up that old passive-aggressive stand-by “your mother doesn’t work here” sign that says “clean up your own wet spot”

I just hope they didn’t use my end of the conference table…I bet they did…So many Lysol wipes are going to be used.

Make sure you’re doing a crossword puzzle, ask them each to come in and tell them you’re looking for a 10-letter word that rhymes with “buck-stain”.

"9 letters…_exat_ork…rexatfork? That can’t be right, guys…can it? rexatwork? Hmmmm…"

um… give them both high fives? Man idk tell them they have to sanitize the room of all their love juices and that next time they have to tape the act for your benefit

Or post it to YouPorn. A sensible and wise man, that Ianbrooks.

Without ever mentioning them by name, give a presentation for the team showing a selection of prohibited office activities, accompanied by illustrations that show them as the offenders.

And just edit the faces and photoshop on his arm tattoo.

The Monday morning meeting could be LEGENDARY.

sit them down. Tell them you are watching now and so is everyone else and they all know and if it happens again, fire them. But let them know they are under the gun.

This is the likely outcome, but I would like to get creative in letting them know I know without letting them outright know I know.

I was thinking of handing them cleaning products and having them clean the conference room because I noticed a putrid smell. Something along those lines, maybe.

Would they be ashamed if people knew? I’d keep intentionally and publicly throwing them together to do things in a very obnoxious manner.

The girl would be, I believe. I would never want to shame a woman publicly. It’s not in my nature.*

*my grandfather was born in 1880, if that gives you an idea as to my outlook on those things—although I view the sexes as equal, I tend to protect women as much as I can from ridicule or gossip. Guys? Well, we need to be shamed sometimes. We tend to be cunts.

Besides Outright Firing

What is the best way to punish two employees who fucked in the conference room?

(An impeccable informant gave me word today. It happened last night.)

old tumblr fuckers where you at?

making-stuff:

killaguhrilla:

vasolinejesus:

soulsistrin:

mrsock:

prettypurplepancake:

moobadoo:

only20seconds:

randomkeith:

miladapted:

curiouslyhigh:

30+ let’s do this shit

32 holla!

34,

35 in December.

Fucking pups. 44.

41

Ha ha fuckers

Oh my god. You’re all BABIES. 50 here.  FIVE OHHHHHH.

Born in 1975. Do the math kids.

1973.

1972

Todd and I are the same age. I find that amusing.

Oh, you kids! 57
Now get off my fucking lawn.

Todd and Killa’s age.

(Reblogged from making-stuff)

Thank you, France

America, fuck yeah!

slappnuttz:

He’s such an arrogant SOB, and I love it.

I met someone named Ragnar today. I asked if he had a son named Ivar. He didn’t, but he winked and went on talking in the singsong Swedish manner while I daydreamed about going viking. I snapped back to reality when I thought about the stench of wearing the same clothes for weeks upon weeks. People have traded their dreams of freedom for less than clean clothes. I’ve traded dreams for less. I’m not ashamed.

(Source: sikanapanele)

(Reblogged from slappnuttz)

derekzane:

thunreswine:

oeste:

misterhippity:

I tried a 2-D printer once, and the paper jammed.

So now I just painstakingly re-create my paper copies by hand, like a medieval monk.

i tried using paper, but the edges crumpled

so now i just chisel my commandments into stone, like old testament god

i tried carving in stone, but the chisel chipped

so now I preserve my history and law in oral tradition through generations of trained storytellers

I tried storytelling, but I developed a stutter. So now I simply point at things and grunt, like cavemen before the invention of language.

I tried pointing at things and grunting but my finger is crooked so now I just secrete pheromones like our animal ancestors.

(Reblogged from derekzane)

It’s hard to find what to post when posting has been so infrequent

Though not much has changed in my life over the past two years. I changed companies, have climbed in position (though that part is meaningless in the overall context—money comes in an exchange of sweat, stress and less job security) and developed a greater breadth of skill, I still only work and sleep. At many points in time my head tilts back in a tense meditation as I wonder what I’m working toward.

One small trifle that may ease my concern is an immature love of wearing that one perfect watch. The perfect watch isn’t the same for everyone, of course. Some look good in a thin, delicate thing complete with gold and lace, but my perfect watch needs to have a rougher touch to it. Heavy. Steel. Something that almost looks as though it’s noisy.

I’ve narrowed it down to two watches:

The first watch doesn’t have a date function, which is almost a mortal sin. It gets a special papal dispensation for the ridiculous beauty of its face. It almost begs a comparison to Sinead O’Connor’s shaved head circa 1988, but that would be a stretch, so I won’t try to do it…oh…well, it’s like that.

The second watch, although handsome, lacks a certain dinginess that endears places and objects to me. It’s bordering on being too clean and too mechanical. Something six months of wear may hopefully change. A ding here, a scrape there and it may end up looking alright.

For more advanced players, the first is a 2824 movement, and the second a calibre 17, which is based on the 2824, though reworked. I don’t quite understand all that mumbo-jumbo, but they both tell time (from what the manufacturers seem to say). 

Which does it for you more? Red or Blue?