Go away and let me do my job

You know what? Make up your fucking mind! You want me to be on top of the quality contol of my products, ask me to keep a running sheet, paper trail and proof of all the problems that have been cropping up. So I do this, thinking all the while that it will hopefully make a difference. So now you have tangible proof in your greasy little fingers and have the nerve to say “wut? looks fahn ta me.” I bet. Let me crap in your coffee. Would look fine to me too.

I know you’re new to the magazine pub industry, so let me make it simple for you. Everyone working here thinks their job is the most important. Sales, Editors, Art Director, Production Manager. And they’re right. Nobody would pick up the magazine in the first place if it wasn’t pleasing to the eye (Art Director), but nobody would continue to read it if there wasn’t any substance (Editors), and no one would receive a paycheck if Sales didn’t sell and Production made sure the ads were right.

So when time is spent to coordinate wardrobe, background, photographer etc., for a shoot, I care about how it looks. Which is also why I sent it out for a scan, color adjustment and color approval. Its also why I took hours to whiten eyes and teeth, remove 5’0 clock shadow, adjust color again, lay it out three different versions to see which colors blend best, and proof it again to make sure I did it right. I cared so much that I sent you this proof and said “Make it as close to this as you can.”

Look at that statement. No word is larger than five letters. I said it in this way so that the four fingered monkeys you are obviously using to train on press would understand. Show it to every person you consider to be knowledgeable enough to be a graphics person, and even as their heads rattle up and down in agreement with you, I still don’t care. Get glasses Alice. Those two people sitting on our cover look much like scarecrows with pumpkins for heads. That’s how off your color is. All of your taste is in your mouth, you hick, white bread, bean-counter ignoramus. And I doubt that’s a great taste either since you’ve had your head so far up the boss’ ass for so long, that daylight hurts your eyes. That would explain the need for glasses.

Fuck you, and the livestock your father calls sweetheart. May you and your sister both bear the fruit of your husbands’ loins on the same day after 24 hours of labor without drugs.

I had a similar thing happen. The majority owner spent about ten seconds ruining a page that it took me two days to make as I painstakingly coordinated every element into a dazzling gestalt. He turned it into a cyan and red nightmare with a couple of global replaces keying on “font-color:”. AND THEN HE SAVED IT. The moron. And as if that ain’t bad enough, he looks at his horrible creation, tilts his head, and says, “I kinda like it.”

:rolleyes: color. not font-color.

This was my first (yay) pit rant, so I was nervous, but I feel much better about it today. Especially since my own boss rallied behind me. (yay)

Very good rant, mia. You should come and rant more often.