Here are the subjects of the last four emails in my work inbox:
OOTO
FTP GET from IBM
stsa,b,d,g maint level problem r
PROD SVC DUMP
OOTO means out of the office.
In my job, we basically speak in acronyms. One that we invented is GABC: goofey ass bridge call. These occur when there is a problem and 50 people who are trying to cover their ass get on a phone call to harrass the three or four people who would otherwise be able to work on the problem. There is a certain type of person who apparently loves these calls and will keep them going for hours, continually demanding that more people be forced to call in. Sometimes a discussion about whether or not to end the call will go on for 30 minutes.
Another acronym I like is PEBCAK: problem exists between chair and keyboard.
From EAS we get an RWT and an RMT, we schedule the SOSS to timeshift on DAD-1 or DAD-2 from DDU, DDQ or DDW and route to DAT, MD or CD. We can bring in a source from Z5L and Z5R to C20 in MCR and send it back out by ISDN. There are undoubtedly a lot more codes and jargon that we use; it’s just that we use them so often, we don’t notice we’re speaking another language that nobody else outside the business (and some in it) would understand.
Me and Willy were lollygagging by the scuttlebutt after being aloft to boy-butter up the antennas and were just perched on a bollard eyeballing a couple of bilge rats and flangeheads using crescent hammers to pack monkey shit around a fitting on a handybilly.
All of a sudden the dicksmith started hard-assing one of the deck apes for lifting his pogey bait. The pecker-checker was a sewer pipe sailor and the deckape was a gator. Maybe being blackshoes on a bird farm surrounded by a gaggle of cans didn’t set right with either of those gobs.
The deck ape ran through the nearest hatch and dogged it tight because he knew the penis machinist was going to lay below, catch him between decks and punch him in the snot locker. He’d probably wind up on the binnacle list but Doc would find a way to gundeck the paper or give it the deep six to keep himself above board.
We heard the skivvywaver announce over the bitch box that the breadburners had creamed foreskins on toast and SOS ready on the mess decks so we cut and run to avoid the clusterfuck when the twidgets and cannon cockers knew chow was on.
We were balls to the wall for the barn and everyone was preparing to hit the beach as soon as we doubled-up and threw the brow over. I had a ditty bag full of fufu juice that I was gonna spread on thick for the bar hogs with those sweet bosnias. Sure beats the hell out of brown bagging. Might even hit the acey-duecy club and try to hook up with a Westpac widow. They were always on the dance floor on amateur night.
I used to work with children. My co-workers and I started saying “Lost my business” instead of “Lost my shit” (which is the hip way of saying ‘laughed my ass off’). Eventually for something so funny that “lost my business” wasn’t good enough to describe it “I went bankrupt” was used.
Well I could interpret near all of it myself as well. However, Westpac Widow merely rang a bell and so a Google search reveals, well… it wasn’t actually from your navy days now was it? Cheeky boy.
Well, the weatherguessers predict WOXOF, but outside OPS its CAVU. Tell the sweaties that we’re launching ASAP. CP, you go to the jet and program the INS. We’re using the NATs on our way to EDAF, and we’ll be flying in RVSM airspace. Calculate an ETP, and advise CP (a different CP) that our MEDEVAC PAX need to be on the bus in twenty minutes. Make sure ATOC knows about the HAZMAT that TACC wants to put on board. BTW, the return flight is an OME for a new AC, so do your best to make sure he doesn’t Q-3.
Meaningless to most, but anyone who flew airlift for the USAF knows what it means!
My contribution (this has been real dinner conversation before): I was 33 traffic down Broad on a 10-86 when I ran into a 10-14 to Roselawn. No 10-25 at the address so I went 10-8, 10-98, 10-19, no report, 10-7.
I used to work with BDs and EDs out of MHMR, setting up ITPs and maintaining their PFs until I got my TC. Now, instead of ITPs, I do IEPs, and frankly, I work with a better class of BD and ED, to the point where I never have to do hard TDs or soft TDs, much less four-points or thorazine screams. Admittedly, working with the SD is different and somewhat more of a PITA than dealing with MHMR – the SD is much closer and more in my face, poking around, screwing with things – but the kids really make up for it. I don’t think anyone’s spit in my face or tried to bite me since I changed careers, not even the worst EDHC we have.
Now, all I have to really worry about is the serious DMFs.
BD: behavior disorder
ED: emotional disorder
MHMR: Texas State Bureau of Mental Health and Mental Resources
ITP: individual treatment plan
PF: permanent file
TC: teaching credentials
IEP: individual education plan, required for children recieving special ed services
TD: “takedown,” a euphemism for “physically preventing a child from harming himself or others.”
four-point: a type of restraint where a mental patient is literally tied, spread-eagled, to a bed
thorazine screams: howling for the nurse to bring you a trank because this patient is about to chew his own lips off and then try for yours
SD: school district
PITA: pain in the ass
EDHC: emotionally disordered hard case
DMF: dumb…
Every morning at work I get ~150 pages of morning reports covering all of our active wells. After almost 24 years I still occasionally encounter some acronym that neither I nor my colleagues can decipher. The pages are, I suspect, wholly incomprehensible to the uninitiated, full of GIH (going in hole), POOH (pull out of hole), WOO (waiting on orders), WOW (waiting on weather), TIH (tool in hole), squeezing, reaming, etc.
