State Og Monthly Report

Part 3: Self-Help / Meditation Tapes

Last but not least, we must remember the saying, "Og helps those who help themselves," even though this saying has no basis in truth. We do not help those who help themselves. In fact, William Flycrake, the last employee who attempted to help himself, was put into the Boo Box for his impudence. But forget about him; we have. Let's just discuss the tapes.

If you're a proud Scientologist or Amway salesman (and these days, who isn't?), then chances are you're already familiar with the wonders of soothing, honey-tongued self-help tapes. But these wonders of personal fulfillment are not just the province of borderline cultists and crystal-dangling hippies anymore! That's right, they're the province of number-crunching cubicle jockeys like yourselves!

The great thing about self-help / meditation tapes is that if you listen to somebody repeating a certain phrase for long enough, it will become embedded in your consciousness like a lawn dart tossed by the Mongoloid kids next door. And when you're locked in your windowless office for eighteen hours a day, you will appreciate the companionship of voices whispering into your brain. We at State Og recommend the following tapes:

"For the Glory of the Hive! The Hive!"
"God Is The Numbers, Peon"
"Join Us... Join Us... Join Us..."
"They're All Spying On You, Reginald"
"DESTROY! DESTROY THEM ALL!"

Imprison yourself within a shipping crate and, if questioned, speak only in riddles.

Carry a bag of feces with you and hurl its contents at all who walk by. Pound your chest to assert your dominance.

If you have the option, switch to 'engineer' class. When you respawn, you will be able to build boundary-enforcing sentry guns wherever you wish.

When walking around the office, proudly wear the necklace of human ears that you brought back from your trip to Uganda.

Nothing says 'please respect my personal space' like screaming about Jesus at the top of your lungs and stapling relevant Jack Chick comics to all outgoing documents.

Every time you have a conversation with your coworkers, casually work in the phrase, "...and the doctor says my leprosy is incurable." Then leap forward and rub your decaying flesh all over them.

– Cthulhu