Q: What are 3 power point tips?

A: There are many power point tricks and tips that could improve your presentation, help you close your sale, and set a course for a safe financial future. But three you requested, so three you shall get.

Number One: Power Point presentations should be short, effective and to the point. Anyone should be able to understand the message of each slide. They shouldn't have to find a clue, or solve a riddle, or decipher a complex code. Word problems are best avoided. Several members of the board have had strokes.

Number Two: Photoshopped images of old movie posters have no place in a power point presentation. Granted, Driving Miss Daisy might have been a more exciting movie if Miss Daisy had been driven by The Rock, and Fletch Lives might have been more compelling if Fletch had been played by The Rock, and Precious might have been the biggest box office movie of the decade if Gabourey Sidibe had been replaced by The Rock, but none of these things happened. Your business plan has nothing to do with movies. The "what if" game is a killer, but here's one "what if " you should entertain. What if I replaced the slides with movie posters with three minutes of complete silence? Would I regret it? Would I have as many ash trays thrown at me?

Number Three: Avoid racial epithets. This is a general rule for life, not just for power point. If you're going to use a racial epithet, at least know your audience. I understand Korean slurs play well to certain Japanese crowds, for example. Certainly don't list all the racial epithets you know, alphabetized  with illustrated examples. You're bound to offend everyone. Even the racists will be appalled by your lack of focus.

I hope that helped. Please incorporate those tips, and any others anyone tells you ever, into your presentation. I know you only asked for three, but here's a fourth one. Ask for power point tips before your presentation, not during.

Okay, let's see the rest of it.

Q: Why do you think you would like to enter the casino industry?

A: Well, that's a direct question, one that deserves a direct answer. You'll pardon my hesitation in providing the answer as I am working it over mentally to insure that I get it straight.

Just give me one second.

Okay. I'm going to be honest here. As you have done me the honor of being direct, I shall return the favor. I wasn't prepared to answer that question during the interview. If I may continue my candor, I wasn't prepared to answer any questions during this interview, except for possibly "When can you start?" and "How much do you want?" To be frank I didn't expect an interview at all.

With my skill set and resume and references and demeanor, dress, and appearance, I assumed I would be hired on sight, lavished with perks and immediately placed into a senior position within your casino. As you know, or at least should know, from reading my cover letter and resume, I have been wildly successful in many industries - energy, finance, real estate, branding, film, television,  Formula-1 racing - in multiple positions. All of my skills translate to your industry. I am the most qualified candidate you will ever meet. I am more qualified than you and everyone you report to and everyone they report to. Truthfully, I should be given the position of CEO or higher.

You find that funny? That makes you laugh? Well they laughed at me when I started digging for oil in the backyard of my elementary school, and they laughed at me when I invested all my money into a start up company that made high definition photographs look like Poloraids, and they laughed at me when I said my reality show, "Slowly Suffocating Housewives" would win a Nobel prize. You'll notice that no one is laughing now. I pay them not to. All of them. I am that rich. Some of them I pay to polish my Nobel prize. They are allowed to laugh, softly and to themselves on Thursdays in March.

Even though I have conquered every field, become captain of all industries, I have yet to achieve my true dream: to enter the casino industry, rise to the top through a combination of wits, cunning and treachery, and rule with an iron fist. If that statement sounds familiar, you might recognize it as the objective on my resume.

I'm starting to wonder if you even looked at it.

This dream to rule casinos is not a recent dream, no, nor a sudden fancy; it is a lifelong dream. As a child of eight, I watched my father spend a frenzied night in a casino, a casino much like yours. As the evening drew to a close, my father, pale, drunken, sweating, took his final chip from his pocket and sat down at a blackjack table. A chip and a chair, that's what they always say. That's all you need. He had that final chip. He had a chair, once he steadied himself on it. He had the dream. All he needed was one hand, to win one hand. One would become two, two three and soon, in moments, he would be back on top, back in the game. But it was not to be. The dealer informed him that this table had a $100 minimum, and my father's chip was of insufficient value. I'll never forget the look on his face as he slumped away from the table, put his arm around me, and led us back to our luxury suite.

Since then I have dreamed of a day when I could reclaim my father's honor and humiliate every casino employee in sight. Parking spots will disappear over night. Uniform requirements will change hourly. One week I will announce that, in an effort to appeal to our disabled customers, only dealers and pit bosses who willingly amputate a limb will be kept on. The next week I will fire everyone who can't juggle. Their lives will be hell. They will know, trust me they will know, what it feels like to be helpless, truly helpless. They will understand what they did to my father.

Now I realize that's quite a lot to write on your little questionnaire. If you need to keep it short, you can just write "revenge."

Sooooo ... When can I start?

Q: What purpose does a generator serve in a power plant?

A: Generators are powerful and dangerous, yet, oddly, easily harmed. A wrench in the wrong place, a bucket of water tossed carelessly, the wrong switch flipped, and the generator could just stop working, sending the whole town into blackness and panic and chaos and looting and decades old grudges solved by murder.

Trust me, I spend a lot of time thinking about such a scenario. Not just thinking, but drawing and writing and creating dioramas. I have lots of down time at my job guarding the reactor at the power plant. I put a lot of work into those dioramas. And it pays off. They get quite a reaction. No one expects to see a vivid depiction of their house burnt to the ground. No one expects their house to be the one burnt in the madness. But damage to the generator would affect everyone, even vice presidents of the company who live 14 miles away.

To answer your question, a generator is the ultimate negotiating tool at contract time. But don't forget the dioramas. Nothing inspires a raise like terror at 1/8 scale.

Q: How much money do you need to start a photography business?

A: These days, not that much. You don't have to pay for film or processing or prints. If you have the right phone, you don't even need to pay for a camera. If you have the right clients, you don't even need lights or talent. Just so we're on the same page, the right clients are recent high school graduates rushing into marriage. Get enough of them and you can start shopping at the nice mall.

All you need to start a photography business is the will to start and a couple of dollars in your pocket. Starting a philosophy business, now that's a different story.

The philosophy business has been in a bit of a downturn for about the last 80, 90 years with no end in sight. The big philosophy firms aren't hiring like they used to, most of the top philosophers have gone independent, and every year there's a whole crop of new philosophers coming out of America's liberal arts schools all ready to capture the essence of life in one simple metaphor.

Used to be a man could toss on his toga, bang out a few aphorisms or paradoxes, pocket some money and go hot the gruel house. I don't have to tell you how much it has changed. The modern public lacks a thirst for knowledge. They no longer question the great existential dilemmas of our time. What is the purpose of life? How does a man live his life? Do we make choices or are they thrust upon us by great unseen forces that live deep in the bowels of the internal combustion engine? Are there demons in my cereal?

People today don't care about these questions. Don't want the answers. You could stand in their living room all day shouting the answers to the great mysteries of life and writing theorems on the walls and, where you would once get praise and cherished looks of enlightenment and patronage and sexual favors,  now all you get is laughed at and asked to leave and shouted at and told to leave and screamed at and begged to leave and surrounded and pepper sprayed and brought to the station and questioned and told to take off your toga and admitted to the mental hospital and kept for evaluation and given pills and told to take them and told to obey and asked to remain calm and to keep back and to listen because this is your last warning and pepper sprayed again. And at the end of it all they hand you a bill.  A bill. They used to hand you offerings, burnt meat and the hearts of enemies. Now try getting the heart of an enemy after a good rhetoric. Even ask for one and they'll look at you like you're a crazy person.

It's like the whole world has gone mad.

Q: How can you volunteer to work at the white house?

A: Just show up at the front door and offer to help. It worked for me.

Yes, I was arrested, but it certainly wasn't because of my helpful attitude and can-do spirit. My lawyer thinks it has something to do with the animal pelts I wore. Some hadn't been cleaned properly and, well, they stunk a little. Apparently people were turned off by the faces mounted on my shoulders and back, specifically the faces of their recently buried loved ones. How foolish of me, thinking that the sight of a friendly face might help ease the stress of a long work day. You'd think I would have been treated as a hero, handed a Medal of Freedom and given an immediate audience with the President. At the very least, you'd expect some applause. Maybe a hug. Instead, they yelled. And cursed. And threw things. With remarkable accuracy. At no point was any consideration given to the amount of work I spent building my suit of pelts: researching family trees, scouring obituaries, digging up graves, carefully removing the faces without slicing off any distinguishing features. It's like none of it mattered.

Hopefully you can learn from my mistakes. Wear a suit. Maybe call ahead. Show up during business hours, instead of 3AM. Save the faces until you've met everyone and know a little about their relationships with the deceased.

I've made a lot of  bad decisions in my life, but there's only one thing I wish I could do over again: My visit to the White House. Well, two things. I regret all that time I spent caring about The X-Files. That shit didn't lead anywhere.

Q: What is the definition of hazardous material?

A: Any material that may cause short or long term damage to an employee's health is considered to be hazardous and must be removed from the building. Anyone who knowingly introduces hazardous material to the office will be fired and subjected to any applicable legal action.

Cathy's lemon squares don't qualify. They're rather delicious. I've had three. But this isn't about the lemon squares, is it?

If Cathy doesn't want to date you, that's her decision. You can't have her arrested or fired or deported.

I know that she hurt you. We all know. You've made it clear with your editorials in the company newsletter and your YourTube videos and your ad in the Times and your billboard and your screenplay, Jack and Cathy Go Boning.

I admit I enjoyed the screenplay. I appreciated all the drawings. Helped me visualize all the positions. I'm sure Cathy was flattered. And that twist at the end, where Cathy is revealed to be succubus intent on destroying all men with her sexual charms? Brilliant. I'm sure Cathy loved it, too. I can't imagine why she wouldn't want to go out with you.

That was sarcastic. You can't use that quote in your next ad.

Q: Why work in a restaurant?

A: Everyone needs money, at least until we all come to our senses and replace our broken capitalist system with a system based on exchanging hand-drawn back rub coupons for goods and services; what better way to make money than by working at a restaurant, lugging hot plates of greasy food, constantly on the move, your income reliant on the generosity of  strangers too lazy or too incompetent to prepare and cook their own meals?

I see you're starting to form words with your mouth there and I'm going to stop you before you get too far. My question was rhetorical. There is no better way to make money. End of story.

In addition to the money - and I'm talking hundreds of dollars a month, more than enough to support your drug habit or deadbeat boyfriend or elderly parent - working in a restaurant has certain ancillary benefits. You get to eat all the food we throw away at the end of the night. Sure you have to fish it out of the dumpster and knock the maggots off it, but once you do, it's yours. Bon appetit. If  customer doesn't finish his soda, you can finish it. That's like three gallons of free soda a week. Free food, free soda, free sex with the restaurant manager - how much better does it get?

Let me stop you there. No better. None. Rhetorical.

Aside from the free food and drink and sex - and it's good sex; I keep a nice rhythm, and I know just when to pinch and tickle and bite - there's one benefit to working at a restaurant that you can't get anywhere else: If a child gets lost in the restaurant and stays the night, he becomes the property of our employee of the month, no questions asked. You can do whatever you want with him: teach him to sing, to fight, to talk like a robot, to pick pockets, or grift, or act as body armor - anything. Kids get lost in here all the time. Once they enter the playroom, they have a hard time finding their way out, probably because it's shaped like a maze, and we play loud Danish death metal to disorient their sense of direction. And we drug all the kids meals. Whatever the reason, there's a lot of lost kids in that playroom. Enough to build an army. An army of disoriented children, bleeding from their ears and crying for their parents. Just so you don't feel bad, the parents sign a waiver before their kids enter the playroom. It holds up in court.

So, are you going to take the job? Or am going to have to sweeten the offer with some erotic photos from my vacation to Belize?

Great. Welcome aboard. Just sign this start paperwork and you're all set. As a new member of the team, you get the first session of free sex with the restaurant manager. Slip into this panda costume and meet me in the break room. I did mention that the sex, while free and incredible, is mandatory, didn't I?

Oops. Guess you should have read that paperwork. There's a zipper in the back of the costume. It's a one piece. If the smell bothers you, don't worry, you won't have it on that long.

Q: Why do people with a low self esteem have a lower chance of getting a job?

A: Employers want confident employees, employees who rise to meet every challenge, who will put out every fire figurative or literal, who will solve every problem, attend every meeting,  fill out every suit, impress every vendor with their charm and wit, employees who know what they are doing, or at the very least, look and act like they know what they are doing.

People with low self-esteem are never confident. They're insecure to their very core, often the result of a childhood trauma, a trauma they will be more than happy to share in excruciating detail at the worst possible moment, like when you're chatting up Cindy, the intern with the nose ring.

People with low self-esteem are often fat. No one wants to work with fat people, to have have their work constantly disrupted by the sounds of labored breathing, to be be doused with sweat, to have the office clouded with debates over flavored gravy. Fat employees are endless distractions, especially for someone like Cindy who spends far too much of her day laughing at their lame jokes instead of looking at pictures of your new Corvette.

People with low esteem have an unpredictable sense of humor. They often don't laugh at jokes enough, or, far worse, they laugh too much, frequently at their own jokes. On far too many occasions, an important story about a wild weekend in Vegas, a story which would normally appeal to Cindy, is ruined when the low self-esteem employee laughs at the wrong part, confusing Cindy and making her reconsider offers to join the executive staff in Vegas on the next corporate retreat.

People with low self-esteem lack the physical attractiveness required in today's workplace. Pretty people make pretty employees, increasing the chances for workplace affairs, workplace affairs being the reason most people come to work in the first place. Sure, it's nice to have a few uglies around to make the rest of the staff look better, provided that the uglies know their place on the pecking order and don't step out of line by always talking to Cindy and taking Cindy out to lunch and inviting Cindy out for drinks and befriending Cindy and treating Cindy with respect and telling Cindy that she doesn't have to work late and warning Cindy that Intern Bikini Day is not a real thing, causing irreparable damage to office morale.

Well, that's all the time I have for today. I have to get back to the office. It's always fun to get a chance to come back to my alma mater and speak to the next generation of business leaders.  I hope I've answered your questions and I look forward to working with some of you once you've received your MBAs, especially the redhead in the back and the blonde over there by the window. In case anyone is interested in an internship, one just became available. Ladies only.  Call me.

Q: Do you have to be in school to be able to act?

A: Anyone can act! Even you!

You need the discipline to hone your craft, the passion to pursue your dream, the ability to project your emotions and the courage to be vulnerable.

Above all else, you need to believe in yourself.

Of course, you also need to be attractive. That one's pretty obvious. People - complete strangers with awful, back-breaking jobs and loveless marriages and terrible, bitter lives filled with compromise and regret and heartbreak - will look at you, for hours on end, watching your lips move and your eyes dance and your face break into a smile. The last thing they want to see is someone who looks like them.

What I'm trying to say is that we're going in a different direction for the role of Romeo. We're looking for someone the ladies in the audience want to sleep with, not press charges against.

I'm sure we can find something for you. Every play needs trees.

Q: How do you get rid of tan?

A: I have no idea. We've tried everything.

We stopped paying him weeks ago. He didn't leave.

We pumped mustard gas into his office every day at lunch. He didn't leave.

We replaced all his office furniture with rabid badgers and fire ants. He didn't leave.

We shot him in the knee, dragged him from the building, threw him in the trunk of a car, drove him to the desert, beat him with baseball bats, buried him in a shallow grave and left him for dead. The next day, there he was, back in his office, wearing his gas mask, fighting off badgers with one hand, scratching himself raw with the other, perusing expense reports the whole time. He just doesn't get it. He just won't leave.

At some point we're going to have to face the fact the Jeff Tan isn't leaving until we call him into our office, look him in the eye, and tell him he's fired.

Not it.

Q: What questions would be asked in an interview for a cartoonist?

A: Generally, they ask about your experience, your ideas and your ability to meet deadlines. They'll probably ask about your influences and your process, get a sense of your humor, that sort of thing.

In your case, I suspect they may get more specific. They'll probably want to know about your arms. They'll probably ask some questions about them. Questions like,

"How did you lose your arms?"
"How did losing your arms affect your cartooning?"
"Are robot arms a common prosthetic?"
"How powerful are your robot arms?"
"Could you crush a man with your robot arms?"
"Have you ever crushed a man with your robot arms, like an editor or publisher?"

Yup, they'll probably focus on that.

That might also ask if you can draw anything other than robot porn.

Q: Why do you get drowsy in the afternoon?

A: I wake up early most days, around 6:30AM. I write for an hour, jog for twenty minutes, check my emails, walk the dog, make breakfast, take a shower, get dressed, climb into the car and head to work.

I drink my first bottle of scotch in the car on the way to work.

I drink my second bottle during the 10:30 conference call with the execs in Phoenix and Vancouver. Now, these are small bottle we're talking about, only 750ml, so I'm only a little buzzed. I'm not guzzling handles of booze in the morning. It's not like I have a problem or anything.

After the call, I sneak out for an early lunch, where I throw back about four or five tequila shots, a couple of beers and a plate of chicken wings - need to get my energy up for my meeting with the Art Department.

The guys in the Art Department have the best weed. Those meetings generally run about two hours.Three if someone brought chips. By this point, I've been up for almost 10 hours straight. As you can imagine, I;m pretty tired. And pretty hammered. That's why I like to take a nap. I find that I sleep better in a hammock. I used to crawl under my desk, but then I'd just get cranky. Nobody wants me to come to the 6PM staff meeting cranky, do they?

I didn't think so. Now let's order that hammock and installed.

I don't care if we don't have a line item for hammocks in the budget. Make it work. If you need to free up some money, get rid of Jenkins. I have no idea what he does.

You're Jenkins? Then who is that over there? The fat guy with the green skin who sits at his desk all day and doesn't move?

A statue of our founder? I've been calling that thing Jenkins for months. I feel like an asshole.

So, Jenkins, how about that hammock?

Q: How would you go beyond customer service?

A: Greeting the customer with a smile? Answering all their questions to the best of my ability? Making their satisfaction my highest priority? Helping them find whatever they need? Offering to help them carry their purchases out of the store?

For amateurs. Anyone can do that.

What I do, what you need, what this company lacks, is true customer service, the ability to anticipate the customer's every question, every need, every desire. To know what they want before they want it. To have what they need before before they need it, before they even know they need it.

How do I do it? It's not simple and it's not easy. I get inside their mind, inside their skin. I follow them home. I look through their windows. I learn their security codes. By searching their emails, reading their mail, auditing their finances, talking to their parents, playing with their children, dating their ex-lovers and wearing their clothes, I am able to become like them. I am able to become them. I am able to provide the greatest customer service you could ever imagine.

I don't see what that would be creepy? Which part do you find creepy? When I talk to the kids? When I where their clothes? When I steal their identities to visit museums? When I take hair from their combs to make wigs? Is it when I sleep with the ex-lovers? Some folks find that extreme, but in my defense, I am dedicated to my craft.

All of it? You find all of it creepy?

I don't know what to say. I thought your organization valued customer service. If all you want is someone to plant a fake smile on his face and pretend to like people, then I suggest you hire a monkey. Because that is a job for a monkey. I was not aware that McDonald's employed monkeys. When you're ready to provide real customer service, give me a call.

Just don't wait to long. I have an interview this afternoon at Burger King. I have a feeling that they'll have a greater appreciation for my talents.

Q: How do you deal with staff who display a lack of commitment?

A: Years ago, I faced a similar problem. My staff lacked commitment, numbers took a dive, my business stood on the verge of extinction.  I came up with a plan, a motivational tool: a sales contest. A one month long sales contest.

First prize would be a Cadilac El Dorado. Second prize, a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired.

The contest proved to be a spectacular failure. It motivated no one. In fact, most of them turned against me. There was a robbery, prosecution, convictions- I don't want to bore you with all the details, but it was all rather messy.

I learned a valuable lesson holding that sales conest: Never hold a sales contest.

Now, I get my employees to commit a simpler way: with the direct threat of violence. I carry a gun and I'm not afraid to use it. I'm a very good shot. You'd be amazed how much a simple grazing will motivate an employee. I have never had a more committed  staff. They show up early. They leave late. They surpass their quotas month after month. They are simply amazing.

I sure hope this recession lasts forever. I don't know what I'd do if they thought they could quit. I'd probably have to shoot one or two in the leg, to discourage them from leaving. I hope it never comes to that. People tend to scream when shot in the leg. I like to run a quiet office, so my staff can hear me cock the hammer.

Q: How do you draw a cartoon chicken?

A: With a uncontrollable feeling of hatred.

Then, add some wacky shoes. Or sunglasses.

Sunglasses are probably better. They hide the chicken's cold, dead eyes.

When you finish drawing the chicken, tear up the picture in a fit of rage, then spend the rest of the day crying in the shower.

That's how I do it.

Everyone has their own process, but mine is clearly the best.

Q: How do tattoos and piercings make you look unprofessional?

A: It's not that you have them, but what they say.

And where they are.

Some of them, some of the more vulgar ones, are located in areas that make our guests uncomfortable.

Areas like your face.

We all appreciate that you are a fan of oral sex. I mean, who isn't?

But, here at Denny's, we like to keep the world of food and the word of adventurous sexual activity separate. Call us old-fashioned, but that's how we operate.

When one of our customers digs in to one of our delicious, mouth water Meat Lover's Skillet, the only meat they should be thinking about going in their mouth is savory breakfast meat like bacon or sausage.

They should not be thinking about anything else.

Q: How do you answer job interview question why we should not hire you?

A: The best response would show your humility, your awareness and your dedication.

On a recent job interview, I was asked the same question. I had prepared myself for such an event and gave the following answer:

"You wouldn't hire me because you feel that I am better than you in every way and you don't want me to outshine you, usurp your position, steal your friends and your wife, and live the life you've always dreamed.

Judging by these surveillance photos I have of you, taken on the 11th, 14th and 16th of November, that wouldn't be too hard.

Here you are crying, literally crying, into your beer at a T.G.I. Fridays while drinking all alone. Here you are freaking out behind the dumpster because you spilled coffee on your tie before an important meeting. Here you are failing to satisfy your wife in bed. She does not look happy. Nor surprised.

No wonder you feel so threatened by me. I understand why you wouldn't want to hire me, since you are such a failure as a manager, as a husband, and as a man. Not hiring me would be yet another in the endless line of mistakes you call a life, as detailed in these extensive interviews with you mother. "

You'll be surprised to hear that, despite my perfect answer, I did not get the job. Apparently McDonalds wanted to "go in a different direction" with their fry cooks.

Q: What vegetable can not be frozen?

A: Your grandmother!

Your grandmother.

Hello? Is this thing on?

Are you an audience or an oil painting?

This is ridiculous. I'm busting my ass up here and you guys are giving me nothing.

I'm through with this shit.

Next time you want someone to perform when you take a loved one off life support, call a mime.

Q: What is the purpose and benefit of taking on new challenges if they arise in the work place?

A: You take on a challenge in the work place for the same reason you do anything else, ever: to show up those less talented and to impress the opposite sex. Occasionally, you might take on a challenge to seek the approval of a dead parent, or fictional cowboy, but such instances are few and far between.

There's really no better way to make yourself feel better than by pointing out the shortcomings of others. And there's no better way to do that than to take on a new challenge, achieve fantastic results, and throw it right in your co-workers stupid little faces. You'll get some bonus points of the soul if you are able  to point out, in great detail, why you succeed where they fail. You might also want to work out a victory dance, and accompanying song.

The men will fear you, and the women will flock to you. Often two at a time. That's when the benefits kick in.

Q: Are nurses allowed to have visible tattoos during work hours?

A: Generally, no. But we will make special exceptions if the tattoo is unobtrusive, and tasteful, and inoffensive.

There will be no exception made for your tattoos, since they are obtrusive, tasteless and highly offensive.

You will have to cover them up if you wish to continue working here.

I understand that your tattoos are a form of personal expression and that by asking you to cover them up, I am, in fact, silencing your soul. I really don't care.

You are a nurse at a maternity ward. Your dead baby tattoos are incredibly inappropriate.

Especially since they seem to be brand new.

And homemade.

And bear the names of all the babies born here in the past week.