This one comes straight out of the jargon basement
for all you real jargonauts out there,
I’m waxing poetic with my warm bowl of nothing
on the back-of-the-envelope,
From the get-go I’m thinking outside the box
with my buzzworthy ideation,
Being not just human capital
but the Uber-Queen of the Pigs
doing the Muppet Shuffle,
Wallpapering fog,
Performing the bait and switch,
I’m the gatekeeper reinventing the wheel by
repurposing, recontextualizing and wordsmithing this resource,
Unpacking uptilting language not fit for purpose,
Enculturating the windowlickers,
It’ll probably be my resume stain,
My work of shame,
Ready, fire, aim:

I’m giving you the heads up,
Putting this on the front burner:
I am game-changing,
Outbeating these other clowns
with my blow by blow blue sky thinking,
Juggling my balls in the air,
Testiculating wildly,
Coming in by the back door
to this Babylonian orgy
of a  turkey farm beauty contest
with its mad money,
Economical with the truth
from its Rectal DataBase.

They tell me that I’m betamaxed,
But I can hack it
as the Big Enchilada with the Juice,
The major player In The Loop
evangelizing in this fishbowl,
Climbing the food chain,
Head shunting the old boys club,
Nailing the jelly to the hothouse wall,
This is not my first rodeo,
Though I am the Johnny come lately
on the map from out of the woodwork,
But I’m no McJob meanderthal,
No Mickey Mouse goldbricker,
No Tony Bagadonuts,
This is my meat and potatoes,
But please excuse my meta ignorance,
It’s just my new guy gene,
Forget all the tribal knowledge,
For this is a one-man show,
But you can’t tell me that I’m undertooled,
This is no band-aid or cabinet condom,
No management porn,
I’m making waves as the imagineer
with my high-wire act,
Above board with my bleeding-edge,
It’s a real barnburner,
All part of the game plan,
But it ain’t rocket surgery,
This magic bullet’s straight out of the box
into my battle rhythm
and the reverse logistics are complicated matrices.

Now we’re teed up nicely…

To hell with belts and suspenders
I’m nutting-up and rolling the tortoise,
This is mission critical,
My Window Of Opportunity,
The tailwinds seem favourable,
I’ve been weighing the pig in my wheel house and I’m good-to-go,
Floating a trial balloon over you,
I just hope I’m not boiling the ocean,
Wagging my finger in the headwinds
and hanging the bell on the cat,
Can I stir fry an idea in your think wok?
I don’t expect a quick win,
But you’ve got the WOW factor I need
my blue-ocean green field baby,
More than just my flavour of the month,
This is just a Wild Ass Guess
from my Endless Pit Of Need:
We can hit the right cadence together
on our glide-path to the big haul,
This could be our heyday,
Our banner year,
I’ve got the required table stakes
to stay competitive in this whore’s market,
I’m ramping up to black sky thinking,
Beefing up my claim to extract the max,
Feeding the gorilla
to gain traction in the right seat on the bus,
I’ve got my road map before me,
We need some face time to touch base,
have a robust dialog, talk turkey, break bread
and work the problem over a three-martini lunch,
I’m flush so it won’t be on the cheap,
We need to fish or cut bait
and hammer out a deal offline
hand-grenade close
and get into bed,
But getting you to interface in real-time
is like herding cats,
You always out-of-pocket tap dancer
with little on your plate,
So give me a jingle and I’ll hum a few bars
and jawbone you to hunker-down with me.

Don’t throw the dolly out of the pram,
You can’t tell me you are acluistic,
We’re nearing the ninth inning,
I want you to ride heard with me,
But you’ve got your red flag up
Negatron,
Blowing hot and cold
and it’s really rubbing my rhubarb,
You’re more than office pretty,
No business provocative O Ho
or tarted up talent,
But the best in breed,
My golden goose,
Real keepage
and that’s not just ear candy,
You’ve spliced my organisational DNA
and I’ve built a twobicle for us,
But come up against your glass ceiling.

You’re base-tending telling me you’re time poor
prescribed to greater fool theory,
Playing for foot on the ball time,
I won’t triangulate in a bag of snakes
jockeying for position
jumping the couch with anyone not wearing trunks,
I’m no easy mark taking a bath or a knock for someone else,
Send in your hatchet men and hired guns
and I’ll be the fall guy?
Not In My Back Yard,
You have to get up at 0’dark thirty
to apply the mushroom principle
or boondongle me by boiling the frog,
I’m not your flunky,
Your gofer doing the Turkey Trot,
I’ll let no scraps hit the floor
leaving me behind the eight ball,
I’m sick of turd polishing
in this Goat Rodeo,
Don’t gazump me with your golden handcuffs,
Give me a binary answer
and not a rubber cheque,
You only have to give the nod,
It takes zero time.

Bend Over Here I Come Again…

Stop creating issues you hardnosed firestarter
and eat a reality sandwich
before you’re one of the blue hairs,
Let’s not get into the weeds
but get down to brass tacks,
Open the kimono
and put meat on the bone,
When you run it up my flagpole
I’ll rub you with my royal jelly,
Don’t tell me the juice is not worth the squeeze,
Don’t throw me under a bus
or give me a Bronx cheer,
I won’t play a zero-sum game,
I can’t run a race without a finish line,
But I can fit into your timeframe,
Though I’d rather an answer extrapediately,
Just give me some wiggle room,
You will be my take home,
I won’t accept your hush money,
I need income not if-come,
I’ll spare you the granular,
I just want some bang for my buck.

The upshot is we’ve come to the business end,
I’ll bottom line it for you,
When the rubber meets the road
even dead cats bounce
and bouncebackability is my forte,
I’m future-proof,
It’s a win-win situation I bring to the table,
It’s all gravy at a free lunch
fashioned in the bucket shop of my heart on the take,
But I shouldn’t have to grease your palms
when we can walk together in gracious space
beneath open skies from womb to tomb,
This is my oxygen-move,
So move the needle
and quit your Kabuki Dance,
Why do you keep your powder dry?
You’ve got me hot under the collar,
Give this dog a bone
before he’s hosed on the carpet
and F****ed Up Beyond All Repair,
I’m not prepared to geek out just to get the axe,
There’s no golden parachute you can offer me,
Just rubber stamp me baby,
The eleventh hour will be too late,
I won’t retread these steps again,
I’d rather up sticks with the fallen angels,
This dog won’t hunt anymore.

This is not the long pole in my tent,
I’ll probably eighty-six it in the round file, file thirteen,
Though maybe I’m sprinkling fairy dust on my zombie project,
You don’t need a witch hunt to ascertain the culprit:
Ben Slade on the air: benslade78@hotmail.com

For full translation, visit the The Ridiculous Business Jargon Dictionary