Yoji Pop Asano, is an instant celebrity for doing something 99.999% of the world does? Singing poorly! I love the early stages of American Idol where the Yoji's of the world compete wholeheartedly for that "Willy Wonkaish" Golden Ticket to Hollywood.
Yoji, is without a doubt a superstar in the making and we'll track and blog of his successes here! For now, all you followers of Yoji and Slamtees are in for a treat. We created the first official T-shirt commemorating Yoji's great status in American History...the very unique and original Yoji "King Of" Pop T-shirt for only $12! (Shipping included).
Check back often and make sure you share this link Slamtees with your friends and share the original Yoji Pop Facebook page with your friends Yoji Pop Asano (American Idol) we’ll see you soon!
Now if Yoji would only sing "Pop That Coochie," man wouldn't that be awesome?
The Chronicles of "DEX": Accountant turned International Blogger at Slamtees
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
De Facto Chief Decider - Dex
So our big year-end sale was supposed to be called the "Hurry Up 2011 Sale" offering an 11% discount. Turns out the text read "Hurry Up 2011% OFF Sale". Now everyone wants a free t-shirt! I even got a call from a guy claiming to be a lawyer. He threatened to sue if we don't send his client a provacative Slamtees T-shirt along with a check for $382.20. But he'd settle for just a shirt. After all, he acknowledged, it DOES start conversations. He demanded to speak with the owner who, unfortunately, is still missing. As de facto Chief Decider here at Slamtees, I have a responsibility to make certain difficult decisions. As the company's order processor, I have an unspoken latitude in handling its shipping policies. As a professional accountant, I practically have an obligation to lie. So I told Mr. Laywer to expect a $382.20 check along with a free T-shirt. And checks they shall receive---all dated December 1st, 2010 and stamped "Not Valid After 30 Days".
However, in addition to uncashable checks, I decided to send out complimentary t-shirts to everyone screaming false advertising. In fact, right now in cities across the country, statistically speaking, not only is everyone aged 18-35 wearing a Slamtees T-shirt, but they're also carrying one in each hand!
In a related email testimonial, a satisfied customer described how his new WikiLeaks T-shirt, which he'd worn proudly to a New Year's Eve party, ended up provoking the entire crowd! A rash of independent thinking broke out. Casual conversations became spirited discussions as core beliefs were called into question. Ethical rhetoric escalated and the timid ducked behind legalese. Paramedics had to be called in. By the time it ended, several guests were being treated for exhaustion and dehydration. The retirement home would never be the same.
WARNING: our shirts start conversations!
However, in addition to uncashable checks, I decided to send out complimentary t-shirts to everyone screaming false advertising. In fact, right now in cities across the country, statistically speaking, not only is everyone aged 18-35 wearing a Slamtees T-shirt, but they're also carrying one in each hand!
In a related email testimonial, a satisfied customer described how his new WikiLeaks T-shirt, which he'd worn proudly to a New Year's Eve party, ended up provoking the entire crowd! A rash of independent thinking broke out. Casual conversations became spirited discussions as core beliefs were called into question. Ethical rhetoric escalated and the timid ducked behind legalese. Paramedics had to be called in. By the time it ended, several guests were being treated for exhaustion and dehydration. The retirement home would never be the same.
WARNING: our shirts start conversations!
On Vacation and Loving IT!
Dex here. Yeah I know I haven't posted anything to the "blog" in some time but that's because I was on vacation. The way I see it these guys have me wearing multiple hats so I'm going to take the vacations of multiple "employees." I am now back and ready to give you the latest from Slamtees. By the way, anyone know where I can get a double coupon of Peach flavored Jello redeemed?
Friday, December 31, 2010
Talk to the money guy
"Talk to the money guy." That's all his email said. My boss throws
his Blackberry into the Ganges, cancels his email account, saddles a
Nepalese mule and casts himself into the Himalayas. In his only
communication since, you'd think he might try to reassure me about the
pay situation, namely that I still haven't gotten any. You'd think
he'd see the sales numbers and thank me for my tireless dedication.
You'd think he'd at least tell me where he is. Nope. Just "Talk to
the money guy."
Just before getting on the plane last month, the boss slipped me a
crumpled business card and whispered cryptically, "You'll know when,"
then turned and boarded. Now in front of me, the card is quite plain.
Just a local phone number, the name NICK JAMES, and below that his
title of DRIVER. Up top in parentheses my boss has scribbled "Money
Guy".
You'd think the international accountant slash order processor slash blogger, which is me, would be considered the Money Guy. Guess not. Maybe this guy
is gonna pay me. Finally!
On the phone, he is short, suspicious of me. In the background I can
hear cartoons. Bravestarr, I think. After a long pause, he asks what
the problem is. I tell him I don't know, the boss just told me to
contact the Money Guy. "Ohhhhhhh," he says like Archimedes in a
jacuzzi, "you have to sell everything by 2011." Why? "Because that's
when the laws change." What laws? "Never mind that. Hey, aren't you
the guy with drink coupons for me?"
I told him about the situation at the Come On Inn (the bartender no
longer honoring the coupons) and the fact that I had actually been
hoping that he, the Money Guy, might be able to get me compensated for
my past, present, and continuing services. When it was finally agreed
that neither of us had any money for the other, he asked me for a ride
to the bar. But aren't you the driver? I asked. He hung up.
I didn't get a chance to tell him about Dex's Hurry-Up-2011 Sale. From now until 11:11am on 1-1-2011 you
can get the most talked about WIKILEAKS T-shirt on the net for 11% off
with FREE SHIPPING. Act now! Slamtees: pissing Dex off task after task at a time!
his Blackberry into the Ganges, cancels his email account, saddles a
Nepalese mule and casts himself into the Himalayas. In his only
communication since, you'd think he might try to reassure me about the
pay situation, namely that I still haven't gotten any. You'd think
he'd see the sales numbers and thank me for my tireless dedication.
You'd think he'd at least tell me where he is. Nope. Just "Talk to
the money guy."
Just before getting on the plane last month, the boss slipped me a
crumpled business card and whispered cryptically, "You'll know when,"
then turned and boarded. Now in front of me, the card is quite plain.
Just a local phone number, the name NICK JAMES, and below that his
title of DRIVER. Up top in parentheses my boss has scribbled "Money
Guy".
You'd think the international accountant slash order processor slash blogger, which is me, would be considered the Money Guy. Guess not. Maybe this guy
is gonna pay me. Finally!
On the phone, he is short, suspicious of me. In the background I can
hear cartoons. Bravestarr, I think. After a long pause, he asks what
the problem is. I tell him I don't know, the boss just told me to
contact the Money Guy. "Ohhhhhhh," he says like Archimedes in a
jacuzzi, "you have to sell everything by 2011." Why? "Because that's
when the laws change." What laws? "Never mind that. Hey, aren't you
the guy with drink coupons for me?"
I told him about the situation at the Come On Inn (the bartender no
longer honoring the coupons) and the fact that I had actually been
hoping that he, the Money Guy, might be able to get me compensated for
my past, present, and continuing services. When it was finally agreed
that neither of us had any money for the other, he asked me for a ride
to the bar. But aren't you the driver? I asked. He hung up.
I didn't get a chance to tell him about Dex's Hurry-Up-2011 Sale. From now until 11:11am on 1-1-2011 you
can get the most talked about WIKILEAKS T-shirt on the net for 11% off
with FREE SHIPPING. Act now! Slamtees: pissing Dex off task after task at a time!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Disgruntled Employees Cost More Than These Darn T-Shirts
Dex here. I hate not getting paid. The bar stopped honoring the drink coupons. So no more free lunches at the Come On Inn. The boss hasn't been seen or heard from since boarding a train in Nepal. And we've only sold eleven units. -jk. The number is actually closer to 17,000. In fact, statistically speaking, if you look out your window right now in select cities in New York and Ohio, every male between the ages of 21 and 35 will be wearing one of our hip conversation starters, a provactive Slamtees T-shirt.
It's safe to say, when the boss vanishes in the Himalayas and your last conversation with him about payment includes the phrase "calling card credits" employee morale suffers. It's been raining all day. The custom sunroof on my Ford Fiesta leaks. And I'm struggling with the realization that I now spend less time doing what I was hired to do, more time doing things I'm not getting paid for, and the remainder worrying if I'll ever get paid for what's already been done!
I'm so fed up with these pro-bono assignments that I'm seriously considering handing off this blog. I already subcontracted my Twitter responsibilities to a homeless guy. I found him at the library. He's got access to free internet all day. He says he's an inventor, or at least he used to be. In fact, he says the word "inventionaire" first appeared on his personal business cards in 1963. I told him I'd never heard of it. He said, "Of course not," on account of my being too young. Inventionaire or not, I figure he can tweet.
Correction: Contrary to the claim of yesterday's guest on Tyra, the word "yeppers" was coined in the fall of 1987 by an up-n-coming slacker named Raj. I know this because I was there. It was late, and we were arguing over the last square of Pino's pizza. Raj had just reached for his third can of soda when B.K. scolded him. "You really gonna down three Dr. Peppers?" to which Raj rhymed, "Yeppers!" It happened just like that, in a partially finished basement in Loves Park, Illinois some ten years before "lifecasting" pioneer Tyler was even born. As for other examples of Tylerese (like "awesomelicious" and "yola") I have no idea.
It's safe to say, when the boss vanishes in the Himalayas and your last conversation with him about payment includes the phrase "calling card credits" employee morale suffers. It's been raining all day. The custom sunroof on my Ford Fiesta leaks. And I'm struggling with the realization that I now spend less time doing what I was hired to do, more time doing things I'm not getting paid for, and the remainder worrying if I'll ever get paid for what's already been done!
I'm so fed up with these pro-bono assignments that I'm seriously considering handing off this blog. I already subcontracted my Twitter responsibilities to a homeless guy. I found him at the library. He's got access to free internet all day. He says he's an inventor, or at least he used to be. In fact, he says the word "inventionaire" first appeared on his personal business cards in 1963. I told him I'd never heard of it. He said, "Of course not," on account of my being too young. Inventionaire or not, I figure he can tweet.
Correction: Contrary to the claim of yesterday's guest on Tyra, the word "yeppers" was coined in the fall of 1987 by an up-n-coming slacker named Raj. I know this because I was there. It was late, and we were arguing over the last square of Pino's pizza. Raj had just reached for his third can of soda when B.K. scolded him. "You really gonna down three Dr. Peppers?" to which Raj rhymed, "Yeppers!" It happened just like that, in a partially finished basement in Loves Park, Illinois some ten years before "lifecasting" pioneer Tyler was even born. As for other examples of Tylerese (like "awesomelicious" and "yola") I have no idea.
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