Contest!
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Your task is to guess how much change I have saved up since I moved into my apartment about 9 months ago. This is going to be the down payment on my house so I'm hoping it is in the thousands. I have made my guess, but now it's your turn. Guess to the nearest cent.
People from countries outside of the USA will win all ties because they probably haven't been in a lot of American money contests. All guesses not in USD are disqualified because I don't want to convert. Coins are all pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters. Price Is Right rules DO NOT apply because life is not a game show. Whoever is closest over or under the amount is the winner.
Hey man, can't I just have some?
Hint: The bags are so heavy that I can't lift them with my broken left side.
It's big but it's worth the same.
The winner will get some kind of prize so you know this is for a good cause. I might send you a post card if you get it right. And if you don't want to give me your address you can just give me your name and I'll send your postcard to someone else. You can also give me your neighbor's address because that will give you a good excuse to search through your neighbor's mail and find out if he really is a child molester.
The contest ends when I go to the bank. I'm not allowed to drive yet so it might be about a week.
This was in the original pile but I threw it away since it isn't really money. DO NOT count this in your guess because I don't want to do any compound fractions.
posted by Ghengis @ 10:21 PM,
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Road Block
Friday, April 22, 2005
Always
Wear
Your
Seatbelt;
Not
All
Semis
Stop
On
Red.
Now I understand why everyone was freaking out at the scene and not laughing at my light hearted jokes. Oh well. I have to kind of be proud of this in a creeped out sort of way. If this can't kill me, I don't want to find out what can.
posted by Ghengis @ 10:30 PM,
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Domestic Warfare II
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
This weekend I bought a house. We drew up a proposal on Friday and submitted it on Sunday. My realtor and I were fairly sure that my offer was a little too imbalanced in my favor and we would probably get a counter offer. My offer was accepted only three hours after it was submitted. My first reaction was surprise. My second immediate reaction was maybe I offered too much money. Or was it that I was actually hoping it was rejected so we could continue this parlay further?
See, I've spent part of my free time lately playing Civilization III which I stole from my roommate. I build, control, trade, and lead my people to war and diplomatic agreements with other civilizations with the ultimate goal of taking over the world. I've also been reading a book about a bunch of genius kids who saved the world from an alien threat and how after that threat was eliminated, their respective countries are using their children's genius military prowess to wage war against other countries who are no longer unified by a common threat. Meanwhile, one other kid is trying to unite the world in one government.
Needless to say, the gears in my head have been set on world conquest mode. I don't plan on taking over the world but I have been passively over-analyzing the simplest of situations and making it appear as if the world hangs in the balance depending upon what decision I make. At work we were dividing up territories at a meeting. I felt like I was already at an advantage because I was given the largest territory to cover. It wasn't until later that I realized that I would be doing the most work.
The washer and dryer were not to be included with the purchase of the home. My realtor and I conspired to slip in the means to acquire those with our offer. We were sure that the seller had his heart set on keeping his precious washing machines. But, the bastard beat us but dangling them out in front of, knowing that we would try to get them. We were washer/dryer blind to what we could have made it. We should have set our sights higher. I regret that I didn't try to get one of his gold mines or oil drilling rights.
I did have a contingency plan in case things did go awry, but he accepted too quickly for these plans to be put in motion. Now what am I supposed to do with these?
"I bought a two bedroom house, but isn't it my choice how many bedrooms there are? This bedroom has a oven in it. This bedroom has a lot of people watching TV. This bedroom is A.K.A. the hallway. This bedroom's in that guys house. Sir, you have one of my bedrooms. Are you aware? Don't decorate it." - Mitch Hedberg
posted by Ghengis @ 10:49 PM,
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Village Idiot
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Wandering solo around the country, I get to pick my lunch time. Lunch usually happens at 11:00. Sometimes it's 1:00 if I lose track of time with my thrilling work or if I find myself pinned down by a dog for hours after falling in a ditch and only having a cattail to fend it off. Dogs chase cattails so as long as there are some available for picking. I can throw them away from me and try to run.
Trying to eat at noon in the city is like trying to get this year's Tickle Me Elmo of presents on the day before Christmas. They drive like maniacs to find a place to eat. There are people crawling out of their burning car wrecks, bleeding and charred, but able enough to run to their McDonalds so they can stand inches behind whoever arrived before them in a line wrapped around the building. Some people bring in their shiny broadswords in an attempt to thin out the crowd with a single swing. I have heard that some women let their fingernails grow extra long so they can claw other people's eyes out so they can't see the picture menu and point at what they want. It's an ugly sight that is best avoided.
It's noon somewhere.
I'm responisble for about 3 places that could be described as cities and that's where a majority of my time is spent. The rest of my time is spent in the towns, villages, hamlets, and people crowded around campfires. I've noticed that the common lunchtime of the villagers is 11:00 AM, MY 11:00 AM!. The village and townie lunchtime rush is a lot like the city lunchtime except with a lot less shirts and more curse words.
How did this happen? Which village idiot had the idea to steal my idea for having lunch an hour early? I thought the town people were all backwards idiots... what with their lower taxes, larger but cheaper houses, less crime, cleaner air, and people who know how to use their turn signals. What a bunch of idiots.
Sure, you can argue that it probably has something to do with the type of work in different areas. The city people go to work at 8 or 9 AM so they can sit in their office and read the Internet. The village people get up at 4 or 5 AM to dress up like a police man, a construction worker or an indian.
I still think the villagers stole the idea from me. It's not coincidence that every Subway is packed at 11:00AM in the villages.
posted by Ghengis @ 10:36 PM,
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Neighborhood Slut
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Everyone said that house hunting was going to be fun. Everyone is right.
This is a great hunting activity that I can even do when I'm at work. If I tried to do real hunting at work I would get fired when someone heard the gun sounds. People get nosey when they hear guns shot in their neighborhood (even if it is from their future neighbor!) They'd call the police and my truck isn't very fast so I probably wouldn't get very far before they shot out my tires. I bet it would be over so quick that I wouldn't get my own personal media frenzy. It seems like anyway can get their own media frenzy these days.
When I drive through a neighborhood that looks like it may have what I'm looking for I get in the hunting mood. I put my head on swivel in search of the different colored signs in people's front yards. Most of those signs also have a tube connected. These tubes contain the all important information that is required to make the life altering decision to buy or not.
When approaching the info-tube I usually don't want to owner of the house to see me taking interest in their merchandise. I'll usually park a few houses down and saunter over to the tube whistling a tune while pretending to be walking door to door selling Bibles. Sometimes, when the terrain permits, I can dart from tree to tree or crawl on my belly until I reach the tube to obtain the objective, unseen.
This might sound pretty insane but if the owners think no one likes their house, they might lower the price. In fact, if the owners think that everyone hates their house, they may lower the price even further. I'll go on home tours armed with a book of post-it notes and a Sharpie with the intention to nit-pick every single defect I can find.
And they'll know who it's from too.
If it takes these insults to heart, the house will fall into a deep depression. The owners will do all they can to figure out what's wrong, but the house will just regress further and further. Eventually the house will sneak out late at night dressed in revealing clothing and drinking and doing drugs. It'll have the reputation of the neighborhood slut.
When I find the house dancing on top of the bar showing its thong and spreading its garage doors to just about anyone is when I can move in with my dashing looks and charm. The owners will do anything to relieve themselves of the burden of raising a proper home and just about give it away to someone who they think will take care of it.
It'll take time to convince the neighbors that the house is not really a slut anymore. We won't worry about image until it's time to sell.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
posted by Ghengis @ 11:15 PM,
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