A couple of weeks ago I decided that I’d use the word “orgy” at least once in every meeting I’m invited to at the office. “Orgy” is an excellent word in that it has enough legitimate meaning to justify its occasional use, but when you use it, every single person in the room mentally pictures the Orgy Guy – A hairy chested, mustachioed man who shows up at the front door wearing nothing but a kimono and an expectant leer. It’s wonderfully off-putting, and every time I do it, I surreptitiously scan the room to see if anyone is lost in a fond remembrance because you never know when that kind of information might come in handy. Hard work may be the surest way to the top, but extortion is a hell of a lot faster. Continue reading