It’s Not a Crime if It’s Only Virtual

I think I’ve grumbled before about the lack of staffing around here. Surely I’ve bitched about everything by now. (Oh, I’m not nearly done yet. Not nearly.)

As I was looking around the site here, I realized the design needs an enema. FCS, it looks like one of those underground sports rags we used to publish in college because we were so hip, passionate and SUBVERSIVE, the only place that would print our material was a Kinkos. After hours.

I was scratching out a few notes on updating the design so it’s not quite so “Post-EQ Angry”, but then I hatched an evil plan to hijack one of the office interns to do it for me. It would be crazy easy to pull off. About a month into the gig, the interns are so starved for any assignment that doesn’t involve visiting the local Starbucks, they’ll do just about anything that even remotely stinks of real life professionalism.

Like updating my subversive, underground gaming blog.

“They did teach you CSS in school, right?!?!?!?! Jesus, how do you expect to make it in this business without a working knowledge of CSS??”

What they don’t know …

The only reason I’m slightly (as in, very slightly) hesitant to hijack an intern is that last summer’s intern announced to his college professor, about midway through the assignment, that he had changed his mind about his intended career and wanted to study pottery or some shit instead.

Which really wasn’t my fault as that kid was whacked. I’d explain a project to him and he’d give me this blank stare — no evidence of any brain activity whatsoever. “You’ll probably want to write some of this down,” I’d say. “Ok,” he’d say, then wouldn’t.

I’d check on his progress later and discover that he’d been googling pork futures or some crap for a week, which had absolutely nothing to do with the project. Again, we’d go through the exercise of me explaining, him staring, me handing him paper and pen, him staring. Week later, all he’s got to show me are more commodity googles.

So then I turned him over to a subordinate, in the hopes that she could get some better googles out of him. My only contact for the rest of the summer was saying, “hey” to him in the morning, which meant “why aren’t you back at school yet?”, or more succinctly “die in a fire.”

Seems to me, hijacking an intern to do some underground CSS work is preferable to driving another one out of the profession.