what's the frequency, kenneth?

aint no shiny, happy people at that office

There's already an entire thread about working for puddles...that should cover the "worst experiences"

I've heard James Corner is the pits to work for.. he rips off limbs an' stuff for fun, which is why, rumor has it, he has no more employees

He dresses really nice, that’s got to count for something?

You could always cum to work for me...darth vader!

Great.. you can admire his tailored beauty while he rips off your limbs. Cool :)

I'm thinking things aren't so great FOG

FOG is great to work for - relatively high pay, good insurance, plentiful clean, new office space, as many expensive awesome model supplies and tools as you could ever desire. The only drawbacks is the hours are often somewhat long (or really long, depending on the project). Other than that it's really a class act.

What's wrong with working for REM? I kind of want to work for him or maybe Rex or Eisenman. I figure everybody must maintain some semblance of decency in their offices, right?

you know what's worse than working for a starchitect? Working for a boss that thinks he is one.

I was once told "everyone thinks what they're designing is amazing, or they wouldn't be doing it." I've subsequently come across MANY crap architects who just can't understand why their work isn't published and/or famous.

The last guy I worked for simply couldn't understand why he wasn't as famous as Rem. He had a huge ego and listened to no one in the office. Yet his work was really sloppy on detailing and really ill-conceived. Every good employee who came to work for him, he alienated (mainly because they tried to make the work better, thus pissing him off.)

blame it on the black star

you're dirty mdler.

radiohead, dude

aaahhh...so perhaps ether it is you who are dirty.

welcome to the club

aaahhh...so perhaps ether it is you who are dirty.

welcome to the club

aaahhh...so perhaps ether it is you who are dirty.

welcome to the club

i get home from work
and your still standing in your dressing gown
oh what am i to do
i know all the things around your head
and what they do to you
what are we coming too...
what are we gonna do...

blame it on the black star...
blame it on the falling sky...
blame it on the satellite
that beams me home

(skip a bit)

i get on the train
and i just stand in the back,
now that i dont think of you...
i keep falling over,
i keep passing out
when i see a face like you
what am i coming to...
i gonna melt down...

blame it on the black star...
blame it on the falling sky...
blame it on the satellite...
beams me home