The Mongolians

Happy Christmas

2007-12-11T17:38:00.000-05:00

At some point I am going to make a new site to post things, but this time I plan to tell real people that I have seen in real life before about it so they can keep up with all of the insanity that gathers in the space behind my eyes. I'm having trouble making up a name so any suggestions would be worth the gold.

Until then you should have a good Christmas.

To: You
From: Some guy on the internet

Milestones

2007-10-30T22:38:00.000-04:00

It was over a year ago when we discovered doggy steps and a new milestone in human invention was marked. I was really gunning for the inventor of doggy steps to be this year's Nobel Peace Prize winner. There's always next year I suppose...

I can run really fast

2007-10-04T23:38:00.000-04:00

There are a lot of ideas floating around in my head for things to write about but they refuse to land.

The 4-year-old demon child that lives next door is exactly like the Retarded Policeman - all the way from his looks to the way he asks questions. I haven't been home much lately but if I was I'm sure I would have to turn down his pleadings to do cocaine with him.

Please Read - No Root Canal Required

2007-08-27T22:57:00.001-04:00

The summer has been good to me. Even though in the working man's world there is not a lot of time to write about irrelevant things on the internet because at the real work place they don't give me 3 to 4 months of vacation time to find a summer job to use for drinking money; the summer is still warmer than the winter and it is easier to be outside without a lot of clothes on.

The hummingbirds are enjoying the weather too because I put some red juice inside of a fake plastic flower and hung it on my window for a nice place to eat. I have never fed a hummingbird before but apparently, in nature, they are used to having their red juice boiled by the flowers. Since I am a working man I do not have time to boil my own food and the red juice so I bought the special kind of feed that subverts mother nature's flower boiling techniques.

Today I had to refill the feed since the hungry birds ate it all. I went to the special hummingbird store and told them that I wanted some more of the special no boiling red juice for the birds. They laughed at me. Apparently there is nothing special about not having to boil your bird food.

I drove home feeling like a fool. I saw birds flitting past, mocking me in my drive of shame. One of them pooped on my window. It was a bird's way of laughing I am sure.

I wonder how many other products use this technique to trick you into buying their product. I went to Meijer because I need a new garden hose. Each hose guaranteed to bring water from one place to another. One of those hoses made all of the claims that the others did but it also said, "NO ANIMAL SACRIFICES NEEDED". I assumed that since none of the other hoses made that claim that I would have to sacrifice an animal to use those so I bought the sacrifice free hose and have never been happier.

Have a good rest of your summer for the next 20-some days.

Indiana

2007-08-04T11:58:00.001-04:00

I don't git it

I don't go to the BMV often enough. It is one of the few chances the government has to bring people of all shapes and flavors together in a utopia of lines and waiting. The only other place you can this special mix of people is at the Halloween store and state fairs.

Like at Burger King, you can have it your way at the BMV if you yell loud enough, say the same thing over and over without going back home to get the correct documents, and convince the people on the other side of the desk that you are the only person in the world.

Some of the things I got to hear:

"Well the computer doesn't show that your license is suspended... If you want you can voluntarily suspend your driving privileges."

"Sir a copy of your birth certificate is not valid."
"But you took it! They have it here! She took it!"
"Sir we don't keep birth certificates here."
"That's what I'm saying! They have it here! She took it last time!"

"You don't have ANY insurance what-so-ever, you didn't pay taxes last year, you do not have a job, you are pregnant, you do not have any form of identification, and we are supposed to give you the privilege to drive?"
"Ain't my problem. My husband does all that. Here is my gas bill."

"You can try the written test again tomorrow."

It was a good feeling to remove my eye restriction from my license. This is not so apparent in the subsequent mug shot they took.

The Pack is only as Strong as its Weakest Member

2007-07-27T16:58:00.001-04:00

If Vick really was a 'looser' he probably won't be in all of this trouble.

I heard someone on the radio with the idea the beginnings of this idea - All celebrities should all be issued a list of regular non-celebrity people and their phone numbers who they can call if they find themselves in a moral dilemma.

Examples:

Hello? Jacob Smith? Hi! It's Lindz. This is a two part question. I have had three 8-balls and 14 vodka martinis tonight. I drove my car here. First question is how fast do you think I can drive my car and get home but not actually kill the kids that I hit but maybe put them in the hospital? Second question. Do you have any coke?

Hello Tiffany Brown! It's Jacko! Hey I am spending time with my favorite neighbor children. Do you have any extra Jesus Juice laying around?

Hey Dan. I hear you have all but one letter in each word on the Subway Scrabble game. Haha. I bet you just needed Boardwalk to win the $1 Million in McDonalds Monopoly! Later looser (sic)!

Stop Wining

2007-07-12T21:09:00.000-04:00

I woke up late for work the other day. I keep my boots in the truck so when I walk to the garage I am in my socks still. On my way out I stepped in something wet. There was a narrow, straight line of water on the floor going between the two counter tops. I looked at the counter and it was wet too, with a straight line of water inline with the water below on the floor.

I checked the ceiling but there was no cracks or wet spots up there. It was also impossible for the ceiling to leak because that would require some sort of water such as rain. Remember when it used to rain? I can't wait to tell my grandkids all about rain.

The cabinet was also wet. Actually the cabinets were wet on both sides inline with the counter top and the floor line of water. I smelled the counter top. It hardly had a smell but it was bubbly and had a hint of yeast to it. So some food thing exploded? I didn't have any food things that had the energy to explode let alone the intelligence to go in a straight line.

If I had ever watched CIS I probably would have got it right away. The spray pattern, the smell, the cork sitting on the counter for no apparent reason... It took a few minutes but I finally realized that Mr. Wine did it with the Bottle in the Kitchen.

This can happen to anybody.

It's said that wine improves as it ages. It turns out this is only true if it stays in the bottle. Adolescent wine often takes the opportunity to revolt. Sometimes it succeeds. This wine was in its "terrible twos". It wants to be out of the bottle partying with everybody and cannot wait until it has a firm hold on reality. It needs to get its tongue pierced, drink a lot of upside down margaritas, and wake up next to someone whose name it cannot recall while gathering massive debt on college loans but never actually graduating. I was in no mood for partying at 8:00 AM.

The wine that stays in the bottle is more responsible. It waits around for the party. Responsible wine has a steady job of giving me a headache and making me fall asleep while everyone else is still awake and they think about what to draw on my face.

I had received the explosive wine as a gift so I wasn't upset about it. Plus it was WHITE wine which is only for girls and the kids that hang out at the Neverland Ranch. I had to mop the floor 3 times before the sticky started to go away. The 3 bottles of red wine I currently have were chortling at me during my cleaning task.

Screw you, wine. I'm sticking to beer.

Club Safely

2007-07-10T19:46:00.000-04:00

We went to the local "club" this weekend. I haven't been there for years. It's the place to go when whether you're looking for 21-year-old college hoochies or 40-year-old drunk white trash guys. Take your pick. Oh and drug dealers too. I think I got a contact buzz off of a guy's shirt who was walking in front of me.

This is the first time I have been patted down to get into a bar in my big little city. They would not let me take my multi-tool attached to my keys into the bar. They must have run into some trouble with people coming in and fixing stuff. I promised not to take out the pliers and loosen any bolts but they had a legitimate fear that I could take out my 1.5" knife blade and threaten to temporarily cause slight discomfort for the guy who was smoking pot out in the middle of dance floor. There was also the fear that I might have met a girl with a hang nail and we could have bonded over the fact that I had the means to file it down smoothly.

I learned to Wake Surf this weekend. I never knew you could follow a boat without holding onto a rope. I also never knew that you could go faster than the boat you're following, lose your balance, and fall into the boat that you're following.

My Dad Totally Owns this Dealership

2007-06-27T19:06:00.000-04:00

I went to say hi to the girls we usually talk to at my neighborhood bar. They already had a frat guy looking gentleman suitor talking to them so I had to wait my turn.

"Oh my God. You have THAT cell phone service?" he said incredulously glaring with his Lance Bass crazy eyes. He looked at his friend and bumped him with the back of his hand, "She has THAT cell phone service!" His friend laughed on cue. "Baby you gotta dump that shit. I'll hook you up. I got my own cell phone store."

The girl took the bait, "Which store?"

"Man, I got my own store. The one in the mall. That's why I have that Jag out front."

One of the other girls said, "Oh I have a friend that works for your company. He works at the one across town."

He opened up his crazy eyes again and laughed, "The one across town?? Hah!" He bumped his friend again. "She says he works at the store across town." His friend laughed again like a trained dog. "You mean the AUTHORIZED DEALER? The authorized dealer, HAHA! Baby you can't get a ride like the Jag I have out front working at the authorized dealer!"

"Oh I didn't know there was a difference. So that's your store at the mall?"

"Yeah! Why do you think I have that Jag out front?" he said proudly, pointing with two fingers and a thumb to the alleged Jaguar on the other side of the wall. "Come over. I work tomorrow. I'll hook you up. That's how I got that Jag out front by hookin' people up and they keep coming back!"

I was tired of this so I had to say something. Dufus hadn't noticed I was there so I acted like I just walked up. "Hey ladies, how's it going? I just saw them towing the asshole who parked in the handicapped spot out front."

The guy bumped me with the back of his hand like he did his friend, "Dude! Was it a Jag?"

"I don't know. It's dark out there but whoever it is wasted a lot of money on those wheels."

"Oh shit! Ladies I gotta bounce. See ya'll tomorrow at my store! It's the kiosk across from the Gymboree!"

When he finally left I said, "Did he have the Jag out front?"

You Eat Too Much

2007-06-23T15:11:00.000-04:00

Mongolia: The Batsuuri family of Ulaanbaatar

Food expenditure for one week: 41,985.85 togrogs or $40.02
Family recipe: Mutton dumplings

I have no connection to anything Mongolian (other than people accidentally clicking on this when they're searching for something else), but I do have a strange craving for some Mutton dumplings.

Nothing in this study is very shocking or ground breaking, but it is interesting. Something about the German family pisses me off though. What's with their smug looks and how many bottles and cartons of liquid do you really need? Luckily this expert Indiana resident has a blogger account and a critical knowledge of what you need and what you don't need.

Poker Conversation Template

2007-06-16T02:40:00.000-04:00

I used to love to play poker. Now I hate it. Not only has televised poker made it one of the worst things in the world, it has turned some of my friends into poker robots... and I ain't no friend to no robot. (Except the roomba, which died after only 5 months of service. It was under warranty though, so they are sending me a new one. Is robot warranty the same as robot reincarnation?) My friends always like to tell me about "this one hand". There is not a phrase in the English language that raises the hair on my neck more than "this one hand." Every poker story follows the same inane template that makes me want to shoot myself in the face:

Hey you won't believe this! I was playing poker last night!

Oh, great.

Yeah. There was this one hand...........

I got . It goes around the table .

Then the flop came .

So now I have .

So then some more .

Then the turn came !

Now it's and

I have .

The best this guy could have is .

But then !!!

So finally the RIVER comes. .

Now I have !

.

We flip them over.

He has !

I have !

The result of this made me:
A) Happy
B) Sad

Oh.

"Fergie and Taco Bell" or "Not Proud to be Right"

2007-06-05T23:14:00.000-04:00

I bet everybody cringed in vicarious embarrassment when I posted the subliminal Weird-Al-ified lyrics to Fergie's Taco Bell song. At least I cringed with little bit of direct embarrassment.

I don't know how long Fergie has really been obsessed with Taco Bell because I don't read Us Weekly or spend too much time searching for pictures of famous people eating breakfast or walking from one place to another, but I knew I wasn't alone in being mind controlled into eating Taco Bell while sober. Apparently her mind control powers go all the way to the top of Yum! brands.

Fergie, if you're reading this, you have my permission to sing this song at Taco Bell or in your imminent commercial spot. I wrote half of it in my head during work and the other half when I was a little drunk so I'm sure you can relate to 50% of it.

After this blows over we can go back to pretending neither of us exist.

How About This Heat?

2007-06-02T14:32:00.000-04:00

Every day I look at the temperature and say to myself, "Hey Dan I bet you think the temperature is around 78 degrees." I nod in agreement but when I look at the temperature it tells me it's a brain melting 93. But I am physiologically none the wiser. I can see why old people move to Florida.

I'm just glad to be able to go outside again. At the end of May I finally got my bee killing machine working to make them stop spreading pollen which turned my nose and eyes into a leaky faucet this year. It causes bees to get Colony Collapse Disorder and makes them leave the hive where they go find a free computer where they play World of Warcraft until they die.

On Memorial day I enjoyed the day by trying to sweat off the previous two day's alcohol in a chair in the sun. I actually fell asleep outside, which is unusual for me to do, especially with all of the lawn mowers running and kids screaming. There's nothing like sleeping in the sun. It's that shallow sleep that's spread over your whole body while you're sunk down into the chair that gives the impression of deep sleep but slightest poke or sudden loud noise would bring you back to attention. I think.

It was the peaceful of peaceful until the Demon Child and his Brood Mother came outside to play Throw the Ball Against the Fence as Hard as You Can. Oh that brought me back... Don't you remember the times where you would go outside with your brother and sister and play Throw the Ball Against the Fence as Hard as You Can. Mom would be at your side screaming, "Throw the Ball Against the Fence as Hard as You Can! Come on pretend it's the Evil Shredder! Pretend it's Skeletor! Pretend it's your daddy! Where is daddy?! Make daddy come back! MAKE THE FENCE PAY!!"

Oh yeah I finished this on mother's day to give my mom something to watch while my dad and I worked. I planted a blueberry shrub in the corner. They are supposed to get full light so I put it where the sun don't hardly shine. I am hoping that will make it blossom the little tiny shriveled blueberries you find in instant oatmeal and breakfast cereals.

FREE SONG LYRICS Fergie Glamorous Lyrics FREE SONG LYRICS

2007-05-23T17:52:00.000-04:00

Every Fergie song always makes me think of food. I swore the lyrics to My Humps was:

"She's got me spin-dip
Oh, spinach avacodos on me
and spinach chips on me"

I also thought that a Fergalicous would probably make a pretty damn good steak sandwich.

But the song that every girl has on their myspace page has subconsciously forced me to drive to Taco Bell on more than one occasion. I broke the subliminal code of the song. Don't let your free will be taken over by the music or your stomach may hate you forever.

"TacoBell" by Fergie
(feat. Ludacris)

If you all want some tacos bring your drunk ass down
You say: If you all want some tacos bring your drunk ass down
T-A-C-O-B-E-L-E-L, yeah T-A-C-O-B-E-L-E-L
T-A-C-O-B-E-L-E-L, yeah T-A-C-O-B-E-L-E-L

[B-Section:]
We trashed on Wednesday
Up in the bar
Poppin' tequila
And maybe Highlife
Now we hungry
And I want my change
At the TacoBell, oh the crunchy crunchy

[chorus:]
The Tacobell,
The TacoBell, TacoBell (the TacoBell life)
By the TacoBell, oh the crunchy crunchy

[Verse:]
Order guac and sour cream
Everything with extra cheese
Chalupas and lemonade
Stopping for Bellgrandes
I be at the drink machine
Munchin on my Crunchwrap supreme
They don't clean, floors of slime
Make it lean, how bout this line?
I still work at Taco Bell
Lobby, what's that smell?
Grilled Stuft, make me squeal
No matter how many burritos they sell
After the show or at the Track meet
I like to cool out with a Baja Blast
Sippin', reminiscing on days when I had a Meximelt
And now I'm in...

[B-section then chorus]

[Ludacris:]
I'm talking Cinnamon twi-i-ists, Apple Empana-adas
You deserve nothing but all the spicy thi-i-ings
Now this whole world has no clue what a pizza is
I've got enough money on this card for the value stuff
Plus I gotta keep enough lettuce
To support your taco fetish
Lifestyles so hot and zesty
Robin Leach will get gorditas
Half a buck for the soft shell
Taking trips from here to Dong
So If you all want some tacos bring your drunk ass down
T-A-C-O-B-E-L-E-L, yeah T-A-C-O-B-E-L-E-L

[B-section + chorus x2]

[Verse:]
I got drive thru duty here
I've got people in my ear
Wanting all these crazy things
That we don't even sell (cheeseburger)
I've got no money in the bank
And I'd really like my break
For all the beer I'd like to drank
Thank you come again
Cause I remember yesterday
When I dreamt about the days
When I'd work at Micky-D, that be really dope
Damn, It's been a long road
And the double decker's cold
My daddy wants nachos, he made his daughter go. [x3]

Best...
Wedding...
Ever...

Dear Neighbor

2007-05-12T21:06:00.000-04:00

ear Trailer Park,

Thank you for making me aware of things such as cooked spaghetti being left out in the grass and hillbilly speed bumps.

I guess.

Trailer Park, thank you for sending your white trash friends to live in the house behind me.

I was thinking of building a fence but this will work too.

Trailer park! Your friends are turning my new fence into hay!

That's right. You didn't think you were going to be blogged about when you woke up at the crack of 2:30 this afternoon.

While the white trash neighbors were destroying, I was creating.

Braggin' on myself like Dr. Phil said to do.

Bonus: The bunnies are living and growing up in my plants. They are learning English but do not know that welcome mats are not always all inclusive.

Why do pests have to be so cute?

Trading Cards for Demon Children

2007-05-08T21:48:00.000-04:00

Most of the neighborhood kids are nice and considerate and make it pleasant enough to live around them. However, they are slowly being indoctrinated by the demon child next door. I like being outside, but for some reason I am fascinating to the demon child and he needs to inquire about everything I am doing. The peacefulness of the outdoors has been ruined by, not the kid, but his lazy parents who can't entertain him or teach him simple things like to not leave his scooter in the middle of my grass while I am mowing and then watch me mow from the grass in front of me that I am about to chop down. And I bet I'd get in trouble if ran him over!

His parents have also failed to show him the episode of Sesame Street where Oscar gets increasingly annoyed with Elmo when he comes into his garage without asking and asks what every single tool hanging from the wall does.

Last week the demon child convinced one of the other neighbor kids to help him kill a bunny. His strict parents kept him grounded inside for half of a day before re-releasing him into the wild. It was a nice half day.

I only have so many excuses I can use to convince the demon child to do something else and temporarily return peacefulness to the neighborhood. Since kids love to collect worthless junk, I made a series of trading cards to start passing out to the pester demons (not the nice ones). Do not try to collect them all.

Manor Farm

2007-05-03T00:16:00.000-04:00

I just...

don't...

get it.

Kill A Watt, Eat for a Lifetime

2007-04-26T18:38:00.000-04:00

I don't want to be a hippie. I don't want to be "green". I do not, under any circumstances, want Al Gore to give me a pat on the back. I would be wary of any politician touching parts of my body because I am sure it leaves a slime that never goes away. I really hope my mom never let the mayor or county commissioner kiss me when I was a baby because that's disgusting. If you see me doing anything environmentally friendly, I am only doing my best to try to keep that scary Mayan snake thing from consuming the world just as he consumes his tail.

In order to beat back the snake, I have issued a personal Jihad on myself to cut down on mindless wastefulness. I could list all of the environmental things I do as a self-congratulatory pat on the back, but to do so would be worse of a sin than saying aloud what you wished for over your birthday cake.

Anyway, I'm not an electrical engineer, but I do play one at work. Sometimes working on electricity messes with your head and makes you think about irrational things... like how Taco Bell flowing down your stomach is exactly like electron current flow. The experience at your mouth is positive but the only way to have any EMF is if for your stomach to become negative, so very negative.

Awhile back I remember a lunatic environmentalist lady telling me that I should unplug my cell phone charger when I'm not using it because it did something awful in the Rain Forests to make female gorillas go in heat, but not put out. This would cause the male gorillas to tear down acres of rain forests in fits of frustrated anger. I wanted to find out for myself if this was true. I bought a Kill-A-Watt meter to check how much gorilla anger not unplugging your cell phone charger really causes.

So here is the raw data to glaze over so you can decide for yourself. The Kill-A-Watt meter will tell you how much power in used in KWH. From the amount of time you leave the tester plugged in, you can calculate all kinds of nerdy numbers. From my electric bill I figured out that $/KWH = $0.082 (that's 13 blades of grass, Mongolian).

Device	time/day	kw	kw/day	kw/yr	$/day	$/yr
13" TV	2	0.036	0.073	26.545	$0.006	$2.177
13W compact florescent* (60W equivalent)	24*	0.010	0.240	87.600	$0.020	$7.183
60W Lamp*	24*	0.060	1.440	525.600	$0.118	$43.099
23W compact florescent (100W equivalent)	1	.023	.023	.8233	$0.002	$0.675
LED Lamp post (8 LEDs)	12	0.000	0.004	1.460	$0.000	$0.120
Cell Charger Standby	24	0.000	0.000	0.000	$0.000	$0.000
Desktop computer always on	24	0.177	4.257	1553.747	$0.349	$127.407
Desktop with hibernate	24	0.105	2.508	915.561	$0.206	$75.076
Freezer / Refrigerator	24	0.084	2.016	735.840	$0.165	$60.339
Ionic Breeze	24	0.007	0.174	63.553	$0.014	$5.211
LED night light (5 LEDs)	12	0.000	0.000	0.000	$0.000	$0.000
Uranium Cyclotron	24	4000	96000	35M	$7872	$2.8M
GE Microwave 's Clock	24	0.005	0.120	43.800	$0.010	$3.592
Roomba (Charged)	24	0.005	0.120	43.800	$0.010	$3.592
Roomba (Charging)	1	0.009	0.009	3.266	$0.001	$0.268
Shreader on Standby	24	0.001	0.021	7.831	$0.002	$0.642
Washer (2 loads/week)	.023	.293	.007	2.463	$.001	$.202

* KWH and Cost based on leaving the light on all the time like a filthy animal

--Pansonic 37" Plasma , Toshiba HDMI dvd player, Denon reciever, Nintendo Wii, Comcast HD cable box--

Device	time/day	kw	kw/day	kw/yr	$/day	$/yr
TV + DVD + Receiver	2	0.269	0.537	196.119	$0.044	$16.082
TV + Receiver + Cable	3	0.300	0.900	328.500	$0.074	$26.937
TV + Wii	2	0.288	0.575	209.875	$0.047	$17.210
TV OFF + Cable + Music	2	0.080	0.160	58.400	$0.013	$4.789
Entire system standby	24	.060	1.44	525.6	$0.118	$43.099

Lessons Learned

I used to leave the computer on all the time unless I was going on vacation. Now I let it hibernate after a few hours. Hibernation should save about $50/year.
People will still pay over $100 for an Ionic Breeze, and all it does is effectively shred $5 a year.
The Comcast cable box on idle is like leaving a 60W light bulb on all the time. I'm getting rid of Comcast and throwing the box into the river.
Making tables with blogger is really hard.
A nice man from Oman has offered to buy the Uranium Cyclotron. Now I'll finally have some beer money.
LEDs are expensive but hundreds of times more efficient than compact fluorescents. Most indicator lights on your electronics are LEDs. The power use of many standby items is next to zero. Leaving something on standby does not necessarily mean that you'll bring down the entire power grid.
And finally - CELL PHONE CHARGERS DO NOT CAUSE MONKEYS TO GO IN HEAT. My charger said it used ZERO power, but I am sure some trickled through the transformers. However, unless your charger has a 100W spotlight indicator bulb when it's idle, chances are polar bears will have just as much hunting ground in the summer whether you unplug it or not. Unplugging your charger is the equivalent of letting Al Gore goose you while you're bent over and will never solve any real problems.

Have a nice belated Earth Day week (observed).

Mommy, what does nappy mean?

2007-04-13T19:00:00.000-04:00

Hey I don't know if you guys have heard or not but the radio and TV have been telling me about this guy name Eyemist. They have been going crazy talking about this guy. There are so many differing opinions on this guy, you could probably fill an entire month of nonstop news coverage and never hear the same thing twice.

I bet this guy could use all of this publicity to launch into a career in radio... maybe even be on TV! He could probably even talk about himself just like everybody else.

He looks like he is 157 years old. I guess the old adage is true; good things come to those who wait.

In other news there is a nice lady named Anna Nicole who had a baby. The baby is either a boy or a girl and its weight was measured in pounds and ounces. I am sure she and her husband are so thrilled to have been blessed with a human life. Lets hear it for the new family!

That is all of the news that happened in the last two weeks. Please continue to have a peaceful and stress-free life.

Magical Prophecies

2007-04-07T12:18:00.000-04:00

The Illusionist was a pretty good movie. It made me wonder how long those old time magic shows would go on. Would people get all dressed up in their Sunday dresses and best suits and hats to pack into a dimly lit theater to watch a performer on stage show them a neat trick? In the infancy of modern magic tricks, would people sit there and be satisfied with a simple 15 minute show where a man tricked them into believing that two solid rings could be linked together and then pulled back apart just as easily?

The movie made me wonder if the attention spans of today's society could be captured by a live performer showing them one trick in a short amount of time. Would it delight them so much to tell their friends and create a local, national, or even worldwide buzz? My first thought was that with so many different people with so many different interests, such a performer could not exist these days. When I popped out the Illusionist DVD, my answer was on there playing for free on Showtime.

I was looking forward to seeing An Inconvenient Truth because I always like to see the science behind a theory so I can understand exactly how the use of 30% of the earth's surface can have such a profound effect on the upper stratosphere 10-50km away. That kind of stuff interests the hell out of me, but sadly this movie had nothing to do with that. The title should have been more specific - An Inconvenient Truth - An hour and a half introspective of how ice melts when it gets warm. I learned that from Mr. Wizard when I was 7. You can learn a lot from an old man that invites children over to his house to film them one at a time.

The plot of this movie was stolen by Underpants Gnomes

I'm not really a skeptic of this climate change stuff, but I don't think the whole truth is being told. There are plenty of other theories out there as to why climate is changing other than people. Sunspot cycles are hardly ever mentioned in these discussions. To take it a step further, the Mayan Calender runs out in 2012 during a sunspot festival and the earth is supposed to turn sideways and fly through-out the galaxy bouncing off of planets and stars in a game of heavenly billiards until we are sunk in a black hole for eternity.

That snake thing scares me most of all

Perhaps the best theory is that of the Titanic. Ol' Unsinkable angered the ice when it intentionally engaged ramming speed and crashed its pointed bow into that poor defenseless little iceberg that was minding its own business on that crisp April evening in 1912. This sent tremors through the iceberg community and they vowed to get revenge on the human blight. However since icebergs communications are slowed by the cold the message took a long time to reach the entire Arctic community. Coincidentally the 100th Anniversary of the Titanic's murderous rampage is 5 years and 7 days from the day I am writing this. April 14th, 2012. That is the date we all need to look out for. That is the date that the icebergs will launch the attack.

With permission I plan on making a sequel to Gore's film. An Inconvenient Truth II - April Snow brings May Controversy. From my back porch, we will be lying on our bellies with our heads cupped in our hands while kicking our feet in the air, with a camera trained on the snow, waiting for the spring sun to bring its melt on. Can you say Academy Award?

Not that this means anything...

I spelled Curmudgeons right on my first try

2007-03-25T23:10:00.000-04:00

Lately I have found myself being vocal to companies that displease me. I have been complaining about irritating radio commercials and poor product craftsmanship. Luckily most websites are already set up for complaints with a convenient little box and a send button with a confirmation that your words will be ignored in the order that they were received.

In the past I have left these powers of complaint to frustrated curmudgeons that live in their mom's basements, but every once and awhile a company needs to know that its product was mistaken for a dead animal smell.

Have you been melting plastic or is that Old Spice Clear Gel under your arms?

Roomba Review

2007-03-13T23:05:00.000-04:00

For a long time I really missed my dog. She is still alive but she is not at my house. When I drop pieces of food or things that look like food on the floor I can not yell for the little furry vacuum to come and fix it. It's a joke to think that I am going to actually bend over and pick these things up or plug the real vacuum cleaner until at least two weeks from any given moment.

I was at a loss and thrown into a carpet cleaning depression for a long time. That was until one day, WOOT! appeared over the horizon with the discounted anti-depressant cure that I needed - a robot dog.

It took a while for the Roomba and I to get along. The normal everyday setup of my house was not conducive to a the robot's daily activities. He made a list of demands and refused to work until they were met. I paid the ransom by taping down some speaker wires, moving a table a robot's width away from the wall, making sure blankets were not on the ground, and blocking off areas that the robot found to be inescapable robot-purgatories where only robot-prayers can relieve you of cleaning a 3'x4' square over and over until you die of battery exhaustion.

With all this work I had to do to make my robot happy, it did not seem like the robot was the time saving device that it was touted to be. I felt like the robot had actually bought me and I was part of some kind of psychological experiment to see how much work humans will do for a robot. That's when I found the camera!

Now, the folks at iRobot will never know that I was watching PTI this afternoon.

Most of the issues were solved, but the robot still thinks that the air vents in the floor are giant caverns where robots go to die. When he drives near these seemingly bottomless pits he has a panic attack. The robot screams in a way that only a robot can, and immediately skitters backwards. In the moment of panic, the robot loses all self-awareness and finds himself stuck half way up the wall. It then sits there crying at regular intervals until I come home from work to free him.

That's when we had the talk. I agreed to free the robot if he ever got stuck again in exchange for non-stop cleaning action while I am away.

The robot now understands his subservient role to man. Since I removed the camera he now has no one to run to since that was his connection with iRobot psychological network headquarters. Sometimes when the robot acts up I will stand over him and eat crackers with my mouth open to remind him what he is there for. If he doesn't clean them up posthaste, I pick him up by the handle and dangle him threateningly over one of the floor vents.

I don't physically beat him because it is a fragile piece of equipment. However, one time I caught him flirting with the tall and slender Ionic Breeze. I knew what had happened. The ionizer was laying on its side fizzing heavily and the carpet all over was torn up and matted. The Roomba was hiding under my bed with a very drained battery. He knew he did wrong so I rubbed his nose in the carpet and said, "NO" really loud. I hid the Ionic Breeze in the closet and told the Roomba that I sold her to an online scrap vendor on eBay where she will spend the rest of her life filtering cigarette smoke and nerd sweat.

The Roomba is one of the greatest things I have ever put money on since I opened an illegal gambling account. No longer do I need to cup my hand and pour crumbs from the kitchen counter into it and carefully carry it over to the trash. Anything that can be swept to the ground with a sweep of the arm is taken care of as such knowing that it will disappear minutes after turning on the robot. I feel my carpet and flooring investment is in good hands with this little guy. This is the next best thing to having a woman clean your house.

The Roomba earns the top honor of 4 Shrugs

Fark TV

2007-03-07T16:34:00.000-05:00

I post as a public service, but mostly because last night Darth Vader came into my room and said he would melt my brain if I did not share Fark TV to anyone who may not have seen it yet.

They are all funny, but Presidents' day and Holy Fish Sandwich are my favorite.

LDS: The Mind Drug

2007-02-24T20:08:00.000-05:00

Two thousand and six was the year of the No French Fries diet. I made it 365 days without passing a deep fried potato through my lips. Now, after unceremoniously bringing fries back to the menu, it's fries here and potato wedges there and Pittsburgh Style salads all of the time.

Lent is always a great time to renew your new year's resolutions. A lot of Catholics will use these 40 days and nights to give up something in order to try to be a better person, but the effort is usually only given towards a trivial goal. Giving up smoking when you have never smoked or swearing off sex with prostitutes (except weekends, holidays, and whenever the urge strikes) is disingenuous and rude towards the pre-Easter season. I know a girl my age who is still giving up "candy and pop" like a 9-year-old.

But the point of all of this is not to pull the specks out of other people's eyes. It's about removing the plank from your own eye and swinging it wildly as a weapon of justice in Jesus' Holy Militia. That's why, this year I am not going to give up something, but instead I am going to make something of myself. For the next 40 days or so I am going to be a Mormon. I'm not sure if the Pope will be to thrilled at this idea, but the great thing about Lent is that you can make it what you want.

Forty days is not long enough to do all of the Mormon activities so I am going to have to pick and choose like a cafeteria Mormon. I do not plan on getting dressed up in my little outfit and go door to door to tell my neighbors about how Jesus chilled with the Indians back in the day. Swearing is too important to daily life to give it the ax and nixing the caffeine is laughable when I live less than a mile from Starbucks.

I suppose that only leaves one LDS tradition to uphold. No consumption of alcohol. For a month and a half these lips will not allow mind altering libations to pass forth. I do not believe this feat has been attempted since I turned 21*.

This is going to be more difficult than giving up fries. When I was not eating fries, I did not have friends calling me up asking if I wanted to go hang out at Burger King and have a box of fries or two ... or 5. People don't say, "You have to help me finish this keg of fries!" We never played "Fry Pong" in 2006. I don't hang out with any fryaholics either.

Guess I can't buy meat for awhile.

The Devil is trapped in the fridge canned and pressurized into carbonated, liquid form. Your choice of 12 or 16 ounces. I will see you in April.

Do not skunk until after that.

Colorado

2007-02-12T20:10:00.000-05:00

Coors Field is much smaller than expected, but environmentally safe

The sun causes sunburns

The wind causes windburns

The Nuggets cause overtime

Avalanche cause... they sucks

Food is great

Art is weird

Home could wait

Vacation!

2007-01-31T19:22:00.000-05:00

For my age and the fact that I have never worked in an emergency service, I think I have seen more than my fair share of cars in unusual positions. I have seen at least 2 cars flipped over on their heads, a car burn to the ground for no reason, my truck smashed across 3 lanes, a tire almost hit my windshield from the car of a drunk driver who's main concern was finding his cell phone after hitting a guard rail, and more events that my mind has chosen to forget. This one might be my "favorite".

This kid's parents are going to beat him

I live very close to a high school

Tomorrow I will be in a place where the residents are born on the sides of mountains and learn to kill their first elk at 5-years-old. I hope they know how to drive better in Colorado.

Unitary Resource Model

2007-01-23T17:24:00.000-05:00

I am so relieved to find that Fox has written a letter to address American Muslims' fears regarding how difficult it is for the general public to discern between what they see on TV shows like 24 and what they see in real life, such as the grocery store. With all of that techno jargon like "re-boot the routers" and "send that to my PDA" combined the non-stop edge-of-your-seat action, sometimes I have trouble keeping up with what is fact and what is fiction.

Sometimes when I'm watching 24, on Monday nights at 9:00 Eastern, I see a house on the TV that looks like mine. My heart always skips a beat because I think that Jack Bauer may be battling terrorists directly outside of my front door and I will be able to invite him inside so he can climb around in my air ducts with a lamp cord where he lies in wait in order to jump out of the vent and shock the terrorist's nipples when the terrorist is trying to force me to give him the launch codes.

When I see my house on TV, I always scramble to the door and scream, "JACK! JACK! IN HERE JACK! LET ME HELP!" I check both sides of the house scrambling around in the snow wearing usually only a pair of shorts (standard 24 watching clothes). Sometimes I have socks on and they get all soaked and I have to do laundry a day early. My neighbor, Jack, always frantically runs over in a bath robe to see what the problem is this time. Stupid civilian. I have to tell him to "GET DOWN" because there are terrorists trying to blow up the neighborhood.

By the time I get back inside the 24 TV window has changed to a picture of the president or a computer room and it is usually daylight on TV when it is night time at my house. Must be that Daylight Saving Time playing tricks on me again. I will have to wait until next time to play the hero.

I wish that other TV shows would come out with a fact/fiction guide so I can keep from embarrassing myself in public. One of my other favorite TV shows is Heroes. The other day on Heroes the Japanese guy used his mind to slow down time so he could steal a wooden sword from a museum. I immediately called Homeland Security to tell them what I had witnessed. I suggested that all Japanese people be rounded up and put in to camps until they can find all of the thieves. And guess what? They laughed at me!

I explained that I am not racist. I know that not all Japanese people use their time stopping power to steal things. But, do you ever see other races stopping time to steal ancient relics? I think not. Who's going to be laughing the next time you're standing next to the Washington Monument or the Largest Ball of Twine when a Japanese guy walks up and all of the sudden - it's gone? I don't think that's very funny.

No one is going to be laughing when parents leave their children are mauled by the seemingly friendly big purple dinosaur. It won't be so funny if a child gets hepatitis from choosing to eat his pizza in the sewers and learning everything they know about fighting from the sewer's rat population. I think the last straw will be when massive overcrowding occurs in nursing homes across the nation as millions of old people put their hand over Pat Roberston's hand on the TV and then their care-giving adult children come home and find a hand print on the new plasma so they send grandma to the home.

Thank you 24 and Fox for helping us keep things in the correct perspectives. I hope other networks follow suit. Meanwhile, even though you are producing high quality TV entertainment, Discovery HD leads the pack with the best show on television.

Sunrise Earth
Pros: No Talking
Cons: Not on often enough

Midwest Madness

2007-01-23T16:51:00.000-05:00

Years ago I drained the last $1.68 in my acocunt to win $694 on the Florida Marlins to take the World Series. The Marlins didn't make it that year... but they did the year after. The year I did not wager anything.

Since then I have felt due for the big pay-off. Every sport deserves a $5 spot on a calculated longshot before that respective sport's seasons begins. I thought this was the year that the since named "Marlins bet" would pay off.

December 6th actually placed earlier in the year.

Drew Brees was supposed to be paying for my vaction next week, but he failed me again. I refuse to fake being a Colts fan or hanging out with people who HAVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH THE COLTS FOREVER for the last two weeks. I also have trouble rooting for the Bears since they made me cry on Sunday.

Instead I'm going to Denver during the Super Bowl to be a snow fan. Go Sports!

Ok. Go Bears!

Candid Public Defender

2007-01-19T16:40:00.000-05:00

Dear Dan:

Thank you for your recent email about our "Helping Hand" advertising
campaign. We appreciate your candid feedback.

This campaign was designed to promote Office Depot as a 'helping hand'
to our customers by focusing on our efforts to provide you with
innovative products, services and solutions. It also serves to reinforce our
longstanding commitment to serving as a trusted partner that you can
count on to get the job done right and provide outstanding customer
service.

I am sorry to learn that you did not like the advertisement and I will
make sure that your feedback is shared with our Advertising Department.
Most companies, large and small, will promote their business through
various means of advertising. However, the most effective way to measure
a company is to judge them based on the way that they serve you when
given the opportunity to earn your business. I want to assure you that
all of us at Office Depot will work very hard to ensure that we are
always worthy of your trust and confidence.
Thank you again for your comments. I hope you will continue to place
your business with us.

Crazy Office Depot Lady

I like how she had to explain to me that I can not base my opinion of their company based on the commercials they put on the air. Thanks for the tip coach... That's like telling a job interviewer not to judge you based on the tattered clothes you are wearing, the tattoo across your face, and the fact that you wrote your resume in crayon.

Staples advertises on The Office and doesn't bother me on the radio.

Advantage: Staples

Big News

2007-01-17T22:43:00.000-05:00

They built a new gas station close to my house by the gym. This was pretty exciting for the neighborhood since the nearest gas station was formerly about a mile away. The neighborhood collectively celebrated by staying indoors and not talking to each other (except for the neighbor kid who says hi to me when I get home from work and wants to show me a stick he found on the ground).

The gas station has been open for a couple of weeks, but it looks like they are already having problems.

The village to the North of our city is ruled by hillbillies. The gas station was strategically placed as a buffer between the city and the village. Rumor has it that someone from the city was trying to make the village people stop coming into the civilized area. That person told someone in the village that the gas was free at the new gas station.

The hillbillies came in droves to acquire the fuel owed to them. The gas station had to respond quickly and put up signs to make the hillbillies go away. The thinking was that credit cards make the hillbilly baby Jesus cry and since hillbillies don't have shoes they can't go inside of the store. This catch-22, however, was thwarted by the fact that hillbillies can't read.

The plan was a success when the road to the city was clogged with hillbilly cars and trucks waiting for the hillbillies who were trying to figure out how to make the gas come out. Some even tried to use their mouth to siphon it out.

For bonus points I had a great excuse for not going to the gym.

First the wine, then the world

2007-01-12T23:57:00.000-05:00

WINE

If I owned a company, you know the stationary would look something like this.

That makes me fear for parts of the world that I own. I am addicted to owning the world. Do not click on that link unless you do not value things such as: personal hygiene, health, social life, money in your pocket, and idle resting time for your brain when it is not thinking of things it needs to own on the earth that no one else has thought of yet. It is capitalism at its absolute worst and I love it.

Undead Party has Risen

2007-01-04T21:45:00.000-05:00

The announcement for my bid for congress will come with a promise to take my swearing in photo-op with a hand on the Necronomicon. I will promise to the voters that I will uphold the laws of the United States and use the dark tome to gather legislative inspiration. No more will there be a discussion of the draft when the secret to an army of the undead is finally achieved. Funding for time machine research to be increased.

The future holds for a war with medieval France.

I'm sure there will not be a media frenzy over this since it means absolutely nothing what book your hand is on when you get your picture taken after your vows, but you already knew that. The bats flying over my desk and the dark clouds that follow where ever I go, however, may make effective media fodder. Never mind the hooded robe and the frequent all-Aramaic filibusters.

I am also making a promise for today. If anyone that I know wants to discuss any news regarding who may or may not be, or who I think is going to be a 2008 presidential candidate until... lets say until spring of 2008; Today I promise to make that conversation end abruptly with a sharp punch in the neck. I have never punched anyone in the neck so it might take a few tries to get it right. If, however, an inordinate amount of people have already tried to talk to me about political speculation, you might catch me in a pro neck-puncher state. I have been practising against the TV. I promise to leave your neck sore and a bruise that will not be mistaken for a hickey.

If you do want to be proven right about political speculation, I suggest to put the talking aside and your money on the table. I know a great site where you can put your wager and I get a 20% referral bonus.

Happy Birthday Jesus

2006-12-24T15:02:00.000-05:00

If you use more than 3 pieces of tape to wrap a present... then you know how to wrap like I do.

Bonus points if you have been using the same wrapping paper for the last 3 years.

Happy Christmas, again.

From the Tears of Newscasters

2006-12-21T18:37:00.000-05:00

It is about that time of year again where I whine and complain (hypocritically) about the news people whining and complaining about an inevitable yearly event. No, it is not a week long analytical media frenzy over the comments of a since forgotten celebrity or a rehashing of a completely pointless socio-economical political issue. It snows every year. It snows every year and the news can not help but to fall over each other to report each season as a national disaster.

I just saw Brian Williams portray Denver's blizzard as one of these disaster areas. The segment was played over horror movie music. It was the music that plays when something bad is about to happen. When the killer is sneaking up on one of the characters who was pegged to die from the start of the movie. They had a file footage clip of a woman with mascara running down her cheeks and pounding a jagged wooden door with both fists; screaming, "HELP HELP!".

When they returned to the live reporter he was holding a architect's T ruler. Standing on top of a snow drift he plunged the ruler into the drift and showed it to the camera. Now we had the proof of the depth of the snow drift. We could not take his word for how deep the snow plow had piled the snow on the side of the fucking road this morning.

Next the music took a dooming turn for the worse while they showed clips of people stuck at the airport. Smiling little girls to play forced to play Uno with each other; little kids napping on their parent's laps; and a woman who had nothing to eat but one of 20 different choices at the Chili's To-Go stand.

They went on to show how horrible it was one of the storm victims to dig a car out from under the snow. The reporter held his distance while the man went to work. "The snow actually made the conscious decision to bury the car and freeze to encased it in ice and make this poor man's job more difficult," the reporter stated. But, even with the doomy music in the background, the man digging his car out still had a smile on his face. What a bastard he was for enjoying the worst thing to happen to anyone in the world ever. The reporter even went so far as to surmise that it was the President who caused this storm (just like he caused the hurricanes to attack the black people last year) because he is too old to ski anymore and wanted to ruin everyone's vacation who was young enough to still have the ability.

Meanwhile people like myself have to be relegated to the lunatic fringe for wanting, hoping, praying for snow for the last two months. Bring it over here in the part of the country that nobody cares about anyway.

Happy Christmas everybody.

Dong

2006-12-12T17:26:00.000-05:00

Since all of the disease news has come out about Taco Bell, I have eaten there 3 times after not eating it for months. (One of those times I had not even been drinking).

Who cares what the news is about! They are talking about food!

I'm sure they've got their finest food detectives dragging out the verdict on the diseased food culpret until they have had enough free advertising to boost fourth quarter profits. Meanwhile I will be a happy (mindless) supporter of their insidious bid at winning the Fast Food Wars. Well, at least happy until the next day.

Eating Horrible Things

2006-12-10T23:48:00.000-05:00

I got to take my new eyes to a high school football game this weekend. The NFL was doing a charity event and they let the high school kids play against them. The NFL sent one of their worst teams up against the high school team, but they took no mercy on them.

Our section was randomly selected to be the predetermined section to be the loudest at a certain time so they passed out severed Lions tails to every single person in the section (married people too). There was a girl crying because something fell out of her purse and she couldn't find it and children crying as my friend (a fan of the high school team) destroyed his severed lion tail in frustrated anger.

It makes me angry that people do not put their hands over their hearts during the anthem. It is an activity that is so easy, you can even hold your beer in your left hand while you do it.

I ate horrible (delicious) foods, beat a (girl) Michigan state bowling champ at Silver Strike, wore the same clothes (hoodie) for 30 hours straight, and got to sleep at a crazy (crazy) person's house. It was a pretty normal weekend.

Lasik

2006-11-28T20:04:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow morning I am going to have every boy's dream come true - to look more like a robot. Despite losing a loyal customer, the eye salesman said that I was a perfect candidate for the highly experimental surgery. By the time you may be reading this, the mad scientist will have control of my eyes and will be in the process of replacing them with lasers.

I am so excited about this that I may not be able to sleep. By tomorrow it will be infinitely easier to do things that once took a minimal effort. The process of bringing my arm up and aiming a finger at the subject of conversation will be replaced with looking at the subject of conversation in order to shine a red dot on it. I will be able to shrink the kids, listen to a CD without a player, and weld dissimilar metals together without flux. Maybe I will even be able to send distress calls to super heroes.

The only drawback is losing the ability to see.

I hope the laser scientist will let me keep my eyes in a jar or at least a zip-loc bag in a cooler. I hope to mail them to Matt since he has no eyes.

News Introductions

2006-11-21T19:39:00.000-05:00

Hey guys this is Kat. I am being held here in Rome against my will. But the food is good so whatev'. Do you think I should change my name? Katie Cruise? Na, that sounds too alliterative. Did I just make up that word? Oh my God that is sooo funny! Katie Holmes-Cruise? Maybe... Oh I know! Katie Cruise-Holmes. Then we can start our own business! Cruise-Homes Reality! Sweet! That sure beats the hell out of the name the Pope gave me: EXCOMMUNICATED.

Yo! Juice here. If you didn't hear I writed a book! It is about how I would have killed my wife and her manfriend if I had killed them. It is filled with all of the gory details that will make you think that I actually did it. It is the first in a series of "What If" books that I am gonna write. Some titles rattling around in my head are: What if I have Chef Boyardee instead of Lean Cuisine Tonight?, What if my Golf Ball gets Eaten by a Dog?, What if My Ears were Replaced with Feet? and What if Tom killed Katie?

Hey this is your president speaking. I was in Asia last week. Everyone came out of their house to greet me. I'm an effin' rockstar! Heh!

Hi. I'm Jim Tressel. My new transition glasses have two uses. When they are clear, they help me keep the Ohio State Buckeyes in first place but when they turn dark as night it makes it easier to lure little kids into my truck during the bye week. I look like a pedophile.

Hi. I am a wild animal. The people in this picture are dead. Do you know how hard it was to operate the timer function on the camera with these mitts?

Hi. I am a cat. I love humping my pumpkin.

Snap Crackle and Spinal

2006-11-12T22:07:00.000-05:00

I was describing my accident to someone a few months ago. Stories that start out, "Let me tell you about the time I almost died." are always great ice breakers. This person said that he has an understanding of the inner-workings of the spine muscle and suggested that I go to see the same Back Wizard that he goes to regularly. I hmmm and haaa'd for a few weeks and then I decided to start seeing the Back Wizard.

The Back Wizard works out of an old carved out doctor's office to give his profession an air of authenticity. Perhaps he turned the old doctor into a toad or cannery. It was not as scary as I thought it would be. Back Wizards are very friendly and the staff he had mind controlled is very attractive.

The Back Wizard cast a spell to put a picture of my bones on a piece of clear plastic, without removing my skin. A cute girl measure the range of motion in parts of my arms and neck and etc. (probably to see if I will fit in the oven or not). We talked about my accident and looked at the magic bone pictures together. He told me that I had military neck so I would be really good at the army, but really bad at growing old. He gave me the choice. I could either let my neck dry up and fall off in a few years or give him a lot of money to fix my back and neck. I said, "Where do I sign up?"

The cute girl took me into another room and had me take off my shirt. I was starting to think that I might like this. Then she hooked up some pads to my neck and arm. The pads let the Back Wizard focus his energy into my body to make my muscles move without my say-so. After about 10 minutes the cute girl took me into another room where I was left alone with my thoughts (to cry).

A short while later the Back Wizard entered. The first thing he did was make me sit in a chair and face in a direction where I could not see where he was. The Back Wizard came up behind me, grabbed my neck, and twisted my head like when a commando wants to kill a bad guy. Back Wizard must have spent some time as a commando before learning the arcane arts. What a life, huh?

That didn't feel too bad so we went on. Next the wizard chained my arms behind me as I lie on my belly. He winched up the chains so that my head and back were just suspended while my legs were still on the bed thing. Then the Back Wizard came up with his giant military boot and stomped on my back as hard as he could. That kind of hurt, but I trusted the professional to know what he was doing.

Finally the wizard had me lie on my back on the table thing. Then he dumped a bunch of Halloween candy on my chest. He opened the door and Mrs. Smitherman's 3rd grade class poured into the room. The kids swarmed over the candy. My I twisted and turned on the bed thing until the kids had taken all of the candy. I was twitching with a torn shirt and a shattered sense of reality, but I knew that it would make my back return to normal.

"That's it!" said the Back Wizard. He took me to the front of the office and gave me a bottle of magic beans. "This will make your back feel better and because it is made of lizard toe nails and cannery beaks. Your back will grow a beanstalk and will allow me to climb into the clouds to challenge the giant for the greatest back cure of them all."

All it does is make my pee smell like maple syrup.

VOTE

2006-11-07T14:44:00.000-05:00

The horse race is on!

These horses believe in their civic responsibility!

Get out and vote!

They refuse to vote for donkeys but always obey the speed limit.

I do not understand my "city".

My Team is Better

2006-11-01T21:19:00.000-05:00

For someone not familiar with our country looking in from a distance, it would be quite possible that they could be confused by our every-other-year soap opera known as an election. The outsider may think that Bush, Kerry, Mark Foley, and Stem Cell Research are running for election positions. This is not even true, but they are getting more face time than anyone who actually is. I do not even think that Stem Cell Research is an actual person. Even if he is, I would be wary for voting for anyone who uses their middle name like a serial killer.

It is almost November 7th and pretty soon we can get back to pointing fingers at other meaningless things. Meanwhile, this is the only political ad that I have sat all the way through.

This Old Prospector

2006-10-31T19:35:00.000-05:00

The old prospector's friends wanted to take him out to see the big city. It had been a long time since he had seen so many lights. The prospector insisted on taking his pickaxe and he never went outdoors without his trusty hat. The old prospector combed the bugs out of his beard and brushed his teeth for the second time in a week. Such an occasion that called for a second brushing was sure to be something special.

Later that night the prospector had consumed a lot of moonshine while playing cards at a big city party. The moonshine made the old prospector do some stupid things but also some funny things.

The prospector and his friends decided to go to a big city bar. The bar was teaming with many scantily clad college girls and obnoxiously dressed men and the prospector was happy.

The prospector had a trick up his sleeve. In many years of study he had learned the ancient secrets of alchemy. However his ability were not yet perfected. The old prospector could not turn lead into gold. Rather he turned gold into chocolate.

At the bar the prospector shared his wealth with the scantily clad college girls and any of the obnoxious guys who figured out what he was.

Later on that Halloween night there were curses heard. The curses were loud enough that it rang in the ears the entire city of Chicago. These curses did not come from a ghoul or a foul mouthed vampire. Rather those curses came from the person who had to scrape and mop and scrape and mop all of the chocolate coins that had fallen to the to the dance floor when the scantily clad college girls saw the face of the old prospector and his patchy beard that came unglued as the night wore on.

Nothing good can come out when nothing good goes in

2006-10-26T23:20:00.000-04:00

I have finally figured out a costume to wander around Chicago in, but at a great cost. "The Halloween Store" -aka the store that has moved into the abandoned fireworks store and is open for about a half a month- this store seems to bring out the worst in people. No, actually I think it just brings out the worst people.

Nothing good can come out of little kids running around The Halloween Store watching the mom who appraises her 12 daughter on the official slut outfit and high school guys teaching them new words. "DUDE! LOOK! I'm gonna be a fucking sperm! HAHAHA! Oh fuck! NO FUCKING WAY! A fucking pimp costume!"

I don't even know why most of them needed to go to The Halloween Store in the first place. Their hillbilly outfits look just fine.

Afterwards we all went to Wal-Mart. At least I think all of the same people were there. Just when I thought I had gotten away from the worst people in the world I saw this scene: A 4-year-old smiling and happy as can be singing along to the ABC song which was playing from a toy in a nearby aisle. Mommy, pushing the cart, slapped him across the face and said, "SHHH! No one wants to hear you sing!"

Nobody's paying for her nursing home.

Inflated and Creepy

2006-10-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

I have never been afraid of clowns, but they have always creeped me out. A normal person would never put on a puffy white shirt or face paint in order to entertain children. God forbid one of them touches you and they get some of their clown germs on your body. I vaguely remember one of them trying to hug me when I was little which set me to screaming and running to be cleaned.

Needless to say this is one of the creepiest things I have ever seen.

Come on in... but... don't... touch... anything!

It reminded me of the decorations that my neighbors put up to celebrate Halloween. They think that going to Meijer and buying a 9 foot tall purple shirted blow up Frankenstein that ties down to their lawn is the spirit for the season. I even saw what looked like a 6 foot inflatable cat fucking a pumpkin. Do you think of a cat fucking a pumpkin when you want to celebrate Halloween? Nothing says Halloween better than a scene of a cat fucking a pumpkin with Frankenstein swaying back and forth watching while the Mummy video tapes it as the 7 foot inflatable Dracula flops lifelessly in the yard with a popped foot. What do the kids think?

Since I cannot beat my neighbors I might as well join them with the most disturbing decoration ever to be placed in the name of Halloween.

Help yourself to some candy.

Carving

2006-10-20T16:37:00.000-04:00

I am really getting into the Halloween mood. I bought a pumpkin but I am not going to carve it because I do not have anyone to carve it with. Carving pumpkins is always a group activity. Solo pumpkin carving is something they used to in insane asylums... but eventually they had to take away the knives because "something" happened.

Luckily the internet makes solo pumpkin carving slightly less creepy.

Happy Halloween!

The Buck Passed Here

2006-10-19T22:04:00.000-04:00

I have always been told to never give money to homeless people. "They are going to use it to buy booze and slim jims and not get out of their situation if you keep enabling them." Obviously I have a better understanding of how to use money since it will be better spent on a $40 round of drinks for myself and some friends at a shady establishment down the street who's owner probably runs a side business researching how to make the sidewalks even colder at night to keep homeless off of his curb.

The panhandlers were in full force this weekend too. Just from looking at me they probably can't tell that I have an entire well thought out rationale as to why I don't directly hand over any money to anyone on the street who walks up and begs for it or calls me 'big guy'. Perhaps I should draw up a pamphlet detailing every reason with bullet points and captioned pictures. It is the most fun new way to piss off real people since Fundamentalist Christians began leaving pamphlets as tips at restaurants.

On the "El" in Chicago we shared a car with a group of people our age that were all wearing the same outfits. They were on a reality TV show similar to the Amazing Race but with only 2 days long and featured one city to run around in. The girl we talked was very social and gracious and hinted at the fact that they had not had anything to eat all day. Since all teams had an equal start they were all given an equal amount of money and food to ration as needed. She said that the worst part of the competition was having to ask for money.

I had not given a lot of thought to what to when solicited by cute Canadian girl reality TV panhandlers. The 2 dollars, that had not found a home in my wallet yet, practically jumped out of my pocket and into the hands of the contestant.

I will not give money to someone who really needs it but 10 minutes later I will give it to someone who is well off enough to drop everything in their life to compete on a game show? That did not seem fair. I guess I wanted to be a part of the competition. I wanted to play the game too. Part of me thought that giving her $2 would make the lights in the train flash like I'm on the Cash Cab and a game show host voice would come over the intercom and tell me that I had won the right to be on the show! A bunch of game show ninjas would come out of hiding and dress me up in the game show clothes and make me belong. Belonging is the American Dream after all.

This new form of begging for money might be what the real poor people need to consider. The old techniques are old and worn out: "Hey buddy you got any change? Man I haven't eaten for days and I just need some help... even some quarters, please, you got anything?" or shoving a single lily in my sister's hand when she was 8-years-old and chasing us all over Atlanta trying to give us directions to the Brave's game - is not the way to do it anymore.

Reality TV panhandling is an untapped resource. You do not even need the TV part of the equation. The panhandler simply needs to tell the person that there is a camera in the building nearby or they have them in their shoes. Whoa, you're on the Shoe Cam! As long as someone thinks that their charity will score a spot on a TV show, the generosity will flow more freely.

Leftover t-shirts from reality TV shows and Survivor buffs need to be donated to shelters and soup kitchens to add to the reality of this prank. Soon Survivor will have to run out of tropical islands to host their show. Survivor - Compton is only a few years away. The public will be expecting it. The money is ripe and ready.

The next time you are hit up for money on the street, hand the panhandler a piece of paper with the name of this blog on it. You should probably keep some of those in your purse anyway.

Thinking Halloween

2006-10-16T19:36:00.000-04:00

I saw a 40-something-year-old man at the gas station the other day who was dressed like this:

Did you know that the tools you use to work on your car can also be used to beat your girlfriend?

When we passed each other in the microwave chili aisle I made a noise out of my nose that sounded like I was amused. He heard the noise and asked what was so funny. I told him it was a good Halloween costume. He said that it wasn't a Halloween costume and mentioned his favorite swear words. I saw his girlfriend in the car outside. She was playing the second Eminem CD for her 6-year-old.

I still haven't figured out what costume I'm going to wear this year. I also haven't decided if I am going to hold on to the Halloween monopoly and have the 6th annual costume party this year or hand it off to someone else.

Last Tux of the Year

2006-10-04T16:32:00.000-04:00

There's a wedding this weekend and I have not even bought a gift for the couple who had their wedding in August. I may be slow but I do not forget and I was able to buy a card for both at the same time.

I looked all over at Meijer for a belated wedding card, but I guess that it is so taboo to be late in giving your gift that such a card is unheard of. I guess they'll just have to settle for this one.

Have a long and happy thug life together.

Armageddon Jr

2006-09-24T22:30:00.000-04:00

You are not supposed to a judge a book by it's cover, but you do know if it has a poorly made cover that the writer was not creative enough to come up with a good cover idea or his/her book wasn't written well enough to find a publisher wealthy enough to put money into a cover.

Hugo Chavez
President of Venezuela 1999 - Present

George Bush
President of the United States of America 2001 - Present

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
President of Iran 2005 - Present

Jeff "The Missing Link" Rumakinktostozlon
WWE Wrestler 2007 - 2008

Chinga
Grand General of Cambodia 2008 - 2021

Glorbauch
Supreme Ruler of Earth 2024 - ?????

It appears that more often that any time in history, human beings are electing leaders who's eyes are merging towards the center of their heads. It may be a stretch to assume that a cyclops will take over the planet, but the ape theory is not out of question. If we continue to elect primates it is inevitable that our world will be overrun with man beasts in the future. Only the people who begin to follow the wide-eyed crazies like the runaway bride and drink Marshall Applewhite's Koolaid will be spared from the clash of civilizations.

It may be time to start believing people who say they know where to find a spaceship.

Fast Food Drinkin'

2006-09-15T22:40:00.000-04:00

My favorite is the people who come in with a list. I am fairly sure that the office picks the ding bat secretary to be the one to pick up the lunch at Subway so they can talk about her while she's gone. HE wants lettuce, tomatoes, and a little bit of honey mustard. SHE wants E-coli spinach, pasta noodles, and a bunch of the horsey sauce . And I want blah blah blah! As if the sandwich artist cares who is going to eat the bread and vegetable with a little bit of meat compilation. Oh yeah and I forgot that the boss wants two more sandwiches!

I think that these unfortunate office rejects were the target audience for this sign.

Oh I'm on the clock! I'll have to try it after work.

First Name Basis?

2006-09-10T21:06:00.000-04:00

I was sitting on the couch reading a book. Eli was on the other side of the sectional couch quietly watching football. Peyton was in the kitchen throwing around pots and pans. He kept yelling, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" They were watching themselves play each other live on TV. I thought of how anyone else would react if they were given the opportunity to hang with stars. Not only was a proud of myself that I could be calm and collected enough to not be a mindless fanboy infront of celebrities, I was bold enough to yell at Peyton, "Shut the fuck up!"

Football seasons has finally started. Tonight will tell if this dream was true.

Child

2006-09-08T21:12:00.000-04:00

I recently moved from Globo Gym to Joe's Gym. At the new gym they offered a free fitness test and I have trouble turning down free things. If only they had told me ahead of time that a guy would be pinching my fat.

When we were done, the computer spit out a number of pages on all kinds of things about myself! The page that caught my eye was the "body age" page. I was very pleased to find out that I am carrying around the body of a 20-year-old (nearly 7 years younger that the real one). I am hoping that it is still legal to put alcohol inside of an under-aged body. That would make tailgating very difficult this weekend.

I'm gonna wreck this thing.

This beats the hell out of the Real Age Test, brought to you by Miss Orpah.

Insisting on the Right of Way

2006-08-29T21:29:00.000-04:00

Click to read the obvious message.

Also at NASCAR events.

Kirby vs the Mongolians

2006-08-24T21:54:00.000-04:00

I had blue crap all over my hands from trying to fix the toilet. There was a light knock on the door. Usually friends knock so I answered it. A young man hands me a bottle of soap said that he is looking for honest people in the neighborhood to give some opinions about cleaning products. Being dirty and already pissed off about plumbing, why not.

"Are you an honest person?" he continued from introduction. I could see in my head a man at the front of a seminar shouting, "Open with a question they can't say no to!"

"No, I'm a fucking compulsive liar." I answered monotonely. I became conscious of how tired and drained I was.

"Heh, that's a good one. Well do you at least like to give your opinions about things?"

How could I say no? "Oh yeah I tell complete strangers my opinions all the time." I said flatly.

He ran back to the truck and returned hauling in two boxes making a show of how the heat and carrying boxes was making him tired. "Oh man thanks for turning the air on for me! Ha ha ha!"

I was in no mood. By that I mean I could not ascribe a mood to how I was feeling. There was nothing. I was tired and I figured a show might be nice. It was at this point that I decided it was my job to make this guy feel as uncomfortable as possible.

I was wearing my collared work shirt from work, but I had put a pair of knit shorts on. These shorts are old and the material on the ass end is worn off. There isn't a hole, but it it's a two layer material. It's hard to describe, but they are prefect shorts to wear when fixing the toilet but are probably very uncomfortable for company. I didn't care.

He started the sales pitch opening with a few jokes. My favorite was the one when he accidentally got his tie caught on one of the boxes while he was setting up. "I swear these things were invented by the same guy who invented the noose! Hah!" I said nothing.

While he was getting set up I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. I sat down and turned on Sportscenter while he continued the pitch. I stared at the tv like nothing else was going on in the world. He was talking about his vacuum cleaner.

Finally it came to the question asking portion of the sale. He had sucked up a lot of crap off of the couches and the recliner and had set approximately 5 bags flatly on the floor so I could see how much crap he had removed from my furniture.

"Ok. Now. What would you say if I asked you to eat one of these bags?" he asked.

I snapped to attention as if I had be entirely unaware of his presence. "Oh yeah. I guess I'd give it a shot." I shrugged.

"Uh. Oh. Heh. Um. Well... no one's ever said that before... but that's actually good. Because doctors actually say that it is better to eat this than to breath it in... blah blah lung facts and etc..."

"Ok." I said.

He went back into sales mode showing me how it can clean ceilings and tvs and speakers and etc. Then he wanted to show me how it can work on carpet. We sprinkled some powder into the carpet. He grabbed the cheap vacuum that I own and said that he would show me how poor it is. "Ok I'll suck this up with your old Bissell and you tell me when you think I have got up all of the powder."

I turned back to the tv and let him vacuum over the spot over and over. He was on about 50 strokes when I saw him look up at me. "I don't think it's all up yet. Keep going." I said, monotonely but encouraging. He was doing such a good job cleaning my house.

Over and over and over he ran the vacuum over the spot where the powder was ground in. A battle of wills was being played but I knew I had already won. I was not going to tell him to stop. He kept going. For at least 3 minutes he worked and I could tell he was getting tired. Soon he would resign and stop without my say. But he kept going. Tell him to stop I kept saying to myself, but I had to stay strong!

Finally the kid stopped. "Whew!" Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. "One hundred and 50 passes! I bet you think I got all of it!"

"I doubt it."

"Now let me show you how your vacuum didn't get all of it!"

He continued with more demonstrations. Finally it was time to use the shampooer. The moment I was waiting for. "Ok... now do you have any stains or spots on your carpet?"

"Yeah there's some blood over here." I said pointing to a small brown spot

"Whoa, did you say blood? Should I even ask what happened?" he asked.

"No you shouldn't."

"Oh man! Come on! I have to ask!"

"All right. There was a man here selling knives."

He got kind of nervous at that. "Oh really...?"

"Well he wanted me to feel how sharp they were so I cut a nice gash into the top of my head." I pulled my hair aside and showed him the scar from my truck accident. "That guy ran out of here afterwards. He left the knives if you want to try to sell those too."

There was a pause. I was done talking. "Ok!" he said nervously. "Well I just have this one last demonstration and I'll get out of your hair!" I didn't know if that was supposed to be a pun or not.

Finally his boss came by and they began the high pressures part of the sale. The asked questions that a sane man could not say no to, but an insane man could pretty easily. Still they persisted by repeatedly lowering the price on their machine. They insisted that I was getting a very very special price - lower than anyone has ever been offered. I could not say no enough. I even offered $50.

I said, "Listen. I am sorry I can not afford your fancy vacuum cleaner today but... I am so glad you guys are in my home," I paused folding my hands and steepling my fingers in front of my face, "because I'd really like to talk to you guys about Jesus." I said, pointing.

They could not leave any faster.

One and a Half Nonplussed

2006-08-23T22:52:00.000-04:00

American reporters are probably the smartest reporters. Every time something happens overseas and there is not a phonetical English spelling that can be looked up immediately when the story breaks; reporters wing it and hope for the best. After all being first is better than being right.

The straggling reporters then race to be second to report the story, also forgetting to learn a proper pronunciation. Like lazy college students, they go to the Cliff's Notes version of the pronunciation, forgoing their own research, and unintentionally stroking the ego of the first on the scene! reporter.

But wait! It is not over. Two weeks later a reporter will interview a "credible source" with a foreign accent and curiously different skin color who has a different way of saying a certain word or name. The cycle continues until there are 50 different ways to say each word.

First off these words don't even look alike, but for the longest time reporters were calling India's largest city, "Bombay", when it is spelled M-U-M-B-A-I. I thought it was still pronounced Bombay, but I found out with the rest of America how to say this when some kid was eaten by a shark or something over there.

It sounds like a genuine Arab on wiki solved this conundrum - Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Although I have heard someone swear it was, Ama-Dina-JIHAD, this one seems to be finally on track.

The word Hezbollah (Hizbollah, Hizballah, Hezbillies?) however, has been tossed around, chewed up, consumed by frat boys at a tailgate party, and then regurgitated in a nearby stream where it is spread to the farm and is picked up by ears of corn that will eventually fuel your ethanol-mobile. Not one person has ever made the decision as to how they are going to pronounce this word until they have already said it. Hezbollah is a modern day tower of Babel and pretty soon no one will be able to understand anyone else. That is why I have started stocking up on cans of soup - the non-insane way to prepare for Armageddon.

If a reporter really wants to sensationalize and sexify the news, from now on they need only to turn to ESPN's Stuart Scott for help with all of their pronunciations.

"Hez-BOO-Yah!"

Terminal Living

2006-08-08T17:21:00.000-04:00

There's nothing like hearing a story from someone about how they got screwed over by an airport. And by nothing I mean that it is exactly like the feeling you get when you're cornered by a mountain lion in a windowless laundry room. I have done both so I will spare any itinerarical details and focus on the story at hand.

In my travels of the last few weekends I spent a compulsory evening in a major airport in a major city. When an airport closes for the night the usual civil environment of people hustling from one terminal to another, ordering coffee, and chatting while waiting for their flight changes completely. The night brings out the primeval urges of man. In some ways an airport at night is more savage than an ancient cave dwelling.

The first task is selecting the location that will be your home for the next few dark hours. We stalked down the hall looking for vacant spot to call our own. The edges of the hall were dotted with small segregated groups. I saw a group of teachers talking non-stop about how much they hated work (on summer vacation no less!). There were families huddled close around a the glow of a cell phone for warmth. A mother held her toddler in her lap. Both of them were prone to frequent coughing fits. Airport workers had already set about cleaning various places in the airport.

Finally we found a spot near the window away and away from the other squatters. While we quickly set about marking out our territory an electric cart came by with a cheery gruff man who was passing out blankets. "Staying the night? Good luck! Here is an extra blanket! Be sure to sleep with one eye open!" he told us with a smile.

We used our shoes to form a semi-circle perimeter of our territory. We glanced furtively to either side while placing each shoe to make sure that anyone looking knew that we meant business. Then my dad and I staged a fake wrestling match to establish that we were the toughest squatters out there and that our clan was not to be messed with. I began by swinging my carry-on backpack and screaming obscenities while my dad parried with his fists. We called it good when he drew blood on my forearm with a mega Indian burn. Knowing that we were mostly safe, our clan decided that we could sleep.

I woke up at... God knows what time, and was feeling pretty hungry. All of the food courts had closed and I had not eaten in over half a day. As I walked around to see if anyone had a spare apple or pudding pack when who did I see but none other than the hulking 280lb, 6'10" mass known as Jared from Subway - sitting there in the airport just like you or I! I was thrilled to see a familiar and friendly looking face! He was busy setting his teeth to a raw T-bone steak as I approached. Surely he had some Subway mustard packets or cookies I could eat. When I stepped forward to ask he barked furiously at me. I jumped and turned to run. Jared chased after me on all fours. Finally I cleared his arbitraily defined territory which he had previously marked with urine. At this time he lumbered cautiously back to his meat.

When I got my bearings back I found myself situated between the gaggle of teachers and the men's bathroom. A worker was busy waxing the floor in front of the bathroom and an impassable barrier of wet floor signs were blocking me from getting a drink of water. I looked towards the teacher camp. They were still yammering loudly about their jobs. On the ground sitting next to one of them I spied a half finished scone and a Starbucks coffee cup. Sustenance!

I was not going to attempt to ~~steal~~ forage for food unprepared. But, I had no weapon since airport security had stolen them from me earlier. I looked back towards the bathroom. The maintenance man did not have a knife or bo staff, but his back was turned and the whirr of the buffer muffled any noise. I leapt over the plastic sign wall. I slipped on the wax and nearly cracked my head open had I not caught myself with my hands. My hands were covered in gooey wax. I went to wipe them off on my shorts when I had an idea.

In the bathroom I tore off a few sheets of paper towels. I formed the paper into a sharp object. I crept back towards the hallway. I could not see the worker so I assumed it was safe. I wiped the object around in the wax to give it a nice coating. Then I scurried back into the bathroom where I ran the paper and wax under the hand dryer until it was hard. Now I had a perfectly made prison shank!

I used some of the blood on my arm and painted my face so I looked like a fierce warrior. Shank clenched between my teeth, I crawled on my belly towards the teachers' camp. They were still discussing work horror stories at... it was 4AM!

"... and THEN he was like 'hey Cathy I need to talk to you for a second after you let your class out'. And I was like my contract states that my obligations to the school end at 3PM sharp and I will be calling the union if I'm held after for over 15 minutes..."

I was getting closer to making the scone and coffee be in my belly. I slid across the floor like a snake on a mission. But I started getting dizzy. I was breathing heavy. The teachers were still talking.

"... you know what I would do is give them detention and make their parents stay and watch them! HAHA! I mean why should we have to do all of this extra work..."

I found myself choking. Every breath only caused more pain in my chest. My head was pounding. The closer I got the less oxygen there was. The teachers had laid out a yammering vacuum trap to suck up all of the nearby oxygen and the scone was the bait! Nearly passed out I looked up. The teachers had surrounded me. "Gotcha!" Darkness...

I woke up. The teachers had tied me to an airport chair and were preparing a fire on the other end of the row of chairs. "We'll teach you sonny! Get it? Teach you? Haha!" The fire had spread to the second chair while the continued to complain about work. How the fire burned in the yammer vacuum, I don't know. One of them kept glancing at me to make sure I would not get free. The scone was still there, obviously set to trap another victim. I could reach it with my feet. I grabbed the scone with my feet and flipped it into the fire. No one else would be meeting my fate. The smell of burning scone filled the air.

The fire had moved to the 3rd chair. Only one chair separated myself from the fire. I had run out of plans. Then I heard something roar. Jared from Subway was running up the staircase. He must have smelled the burning scone! Jared leapt into the middle of the teachers and gnashed his teeth at them. He bristled his back growling. The teachers quickly got up and ran.

I told Jared that I loved Subway and eat there 3 or 4 times a week. He cocked his head to the side. "That's it boy. Come here!" The fire had reached the chair next to me. "Bite through these ropes!" Jared went to work on the ropes with his massive jaws. At the last moment Jared free me. I grabbed on to his back and he ran. The final chair caught fire and the whole row exploded in a great fireball. Eyes closed tightly, I felt tongues of flame licking my bare heals.

Jared carried me back to our airport camp and and placed me on my airport blankets. I was able to get another hour of sleep before catching that 7AM flight.

Thanks Jared. Cape Cod was a lot of fun!

Haunted Bathroom House

2006-08-02T23:47:00.000-04:00

There will be more on Cape Cod later, but it is bedtime for all little boys who spent too much of their life on a jet.

We were allowed to use the bathroom of the old house next to the very old church while the priest talked to the bride and groom. While the bathroom was in use we could not help but to explore. With every creaky footstep we peered cautiously around the corners. We peaked through doors and kept expecting to find a pile of skeletons or some kind of long untouched bloody instruments that suggested foul play. The attic was furnished into a bedroom which was torn from the page of an 1800's orphanage where something rotten happened and for some reason or another a child's soul was inevitably left behind. That is where the poem was found.

Seething?

This is definitely going to Found.

Job Shop

2006-07-16T23:36:00.000-04:00

It has been a half year since I have eaten a french fry. That's not a huge accomplishment, but my body is revolting. In this time I have had 3 ~~dreams~~ nightmares where I mindlessly consume some fries only to realize that I had forgotten about my new year's resolution. I think the dream Dan has a short memory for resolutions. Still, even though I cheat in my dreams, this is probably the longest running new year's resolution ever. Someone call Guinness.

The workers in the food processing plant in my belly are wishing they had it like they used to. They remember the good old times when their job was easy. When all of the food they had to process either went to the FAT loading dock or to WASTE in the dumpster out back. They used to say things like, "Man, I can't believe we get paid for this job."

The Boss.

The workers don't see those days very often anymore. I give them puzzles to work on the keep their minds frosty. Where they used to be working with putting square and triangle blocks through the appropriate hole, they now spend more time on that puzzle where you try to get two bent nails apart. (No, I've never swallowed a nail puzzle.) Whole wheats and complex carbohydrates require a bit more time and has to be sorted a bit further. We had to let a few people go because they did not pass the skills test on grain disassembly. I fear for anyone who has workers who regularly handle McDonald's food.

Every once and awhile the workers get a treat and are bathed in alcohol through the wee hours of the night. Being so small, the lightweight workers get drunk pretty quickly and want to go to bed. You can not imagine the rage of the workers at 4:00AM when they are woken up by a fresh shipment of Steak n Shake Frisco Melt. The team leader and I have had heated discussions about this and I have promised to reduce taking on extra jobs so late at night.

I always try to make sure that the workers wake up when I do. Breakfast is important because it gets them ready for the rest of the day's jobs. If you eat at random times during the day with no set schedule your workers will never be ready. My friend only eats one meal a day and it's usually a big meal of crappy processed food. He wonders why his stomach always hurts. Duh. His workers are on strike. The delivery truck drivers will not cross the picket line for fear of being cursed at or given the finger.

It feels really good to keep the workers happy. I run an incentive program for them. The worker who can turn out the most units gets a percent bonus package, 4 weeks vacation, and cake on my birthday (we all have the same birthday).

Your Animal

2006-06-30T00:35:00.000-04:00

Osama bin Laden told the world that Abu Musab al-Zarqawi was a lion or rather just, "lion", for short. I'm sure that means something very important in the Middle East. I didn't read the article.

I just want to know if bin Laden has plans on giving us all animal nicknames. I really want to be a bird or maybe a horse but I would settle for man's best friend. I'm sure he probably gets these animals from a quiz website.

You are the snake!

You hide in the tall grass and wait for your enemies to come walking past. You strike from afar with your venom spray and then run and hide deeper in the grass.
You are most compatible with the lizards and the fish.
You are not compatible with the mongoose.
Some famous snakes: Jack the Ripper, the snake that Lassie fought, Kevin Federline, and any politician.
Which Bin-Animal Are You?

Dogs and Cats... Living Together

2006-06-21T11:24:00.000-04:00

The memory foam continues to make the gears turn in my head while I sleep and forms dreams that blur into reality. Last night I had a dream that there was a paper I had to sign. There was an X and line and a lot of garbled words above the line. I had to sign the paper. It was a very important paper that had to be to the appropriate person ASAP.

The problem was that the paper lived only in my mind so in the dream I woke up into another dream. In the new dream I walked up to a printer to print out the paper from my mind. I was at a loss as to how to make the paper appear on the printer. I had no internal blue tooth connection, no USB plug-ins under my fingernails, not even an old serial connection or a memory card to plug in. There was no way to get something from my brain directly to paper! In dream world this was terribly alarming.

When I finally woke up I was sad. I knew that I would never be able to get the important document out of my head and it was quickly melting away as the dream Langoliers were taking it to task.

Back to the Future II taught us that we would have flying cars by the year 2015. It would have to be sooner though because the flying car highways were already set up in suburban America, so to be sure, the first flying car should roll out around 2011.

Things do not seem to be on track. If I can't download information from my brain by now and we can not even decide what the next car fuel is going to be, the future that we were promised by Hollywood seems pretty far fetched.

I had all but given up hope for the future until I saw a commercial on CNN Headline News. Welcome to the 21st century.

Now that this is solved, we can move on to less pressing issues.

Idle Hands

2006-06-06T21:18:00.000-04:00

For those of you who have been following your Gregorian calendars, today is 06/06/2006 or 06062006. Those numbers add up to an even round number of 20 (twenty). Coincidentally that is exactly the number of matches that come in a matchbox which is also the standard number of cigarettes in pack. If you smoke 20 cigarettes a day that is 365 packs a year. Cigarette has 9 letters in it so smoke for 9 years and multiply that by the number of leaves on a poison ivy plant, you will have 27 shots of Jagermeister to do before you go to bed. If you do that you will see the Devil.

Everyone in the entertainment and news world is trying as hard as they can to make you freaked out by the coincidence of a few numbers in today's date with a reference to one verse of the Bible. I wonder if they experienced the same microfrenzy on 06/06/1906. Or maybe when they did not have tv, internet, IMAX Theatres, Model T Horseless carriages, or half of a day of free time to do anything you wanted because they spent sun up to sun down farming, building houses, or managing finances just to make enough money to put bread and water on the table for the family. They probably did not have the time to spend three seconds on a stupid number game.

What a great country/world we have where we have built up everything so much that we can leave the world on autopilot while we take entire weeks of our lives to do things like: sit down in front of the court house where Michael Jackson was on trial; where you can go on myspace and post pictures of yourself flashing gang signs and lighting your neighbor's bushes on fire; where you can go on internet forums and argue about how Super Nintendo was better than Sega Genesis; or where you can go to Africa and adopt a baby where we will leave it to be guarded by lions.

Get a JOB.

Doing any of these things 100 years ago would have gotten you killed. So, the next time your internet goes down or your car won't start, just ask yourself, "Do I have the wherewithal to make my own spear to kill a squirrel for food or at least trick someone into doing it for me so I can take his food just to survive?"

Memory Foaming at the Mouth

2006-06-03T11:13:00.000-04:00

In an ongoing effort to improve my back, which was slightly rearranged about a year ago, I decided to buy a memory foam mattress topper. The picture on the box showed a woman who was obviously very pleased to be sleeping on her foam mattress. I do not think she was really sleeping though. When you're sleeping you lack the ability to intentionally display emotion. If the woman had really be sleeping we would have seen a picture more like this.

Get out of my head!

A more apt name for this material is nightmare foam. Through week's experience with this foam I have had deep REM dreams every night. None of them have been a nightmare, per se, but any dream like the ones I have had are on the cusp forcing me to wake in a cold sweat. I have battled an army of armor clad midgets, hid in a cave in Iraq where I shot missiles out of an ink pen, lost a game of ladder golf in my front yard, walked up a flight of stairs standing on a ladder like a pair of stilts where I saw Neil and said asked him how he was doing before waddling up the stairs, and held on to a long rope tethered to an unpiloted jet that thrashed me around in the sky until it crashed into my old high school. Nightmare foam definitely causes deep sleep but at what cost?

Actually, for the longest time I thought that the point of memory foam is that it would sink in and remember what was placed on it. That didn't make a lot of sense to me but I never gave it very much thought. I did think that the only practical application would be if you ever come up missing they could pour plaster into your mattress and recreate a model of you that they will show to a team of bloodhounds who will be able to scour the city for you and drag you home. You could also pour plaster into your hand imprint and make a great keepsake ornament to give to dad for father's day.

All of these fears and conjectures are wrong though. Memory foam is the miracle cure for back pain and has earned the top honor of 4 shrugs.

Letters from the Future

2006-05-21T23:29:00.000-04:00

Had I not checked my bulk mail folder in yahoo, I would have never found this correspondence from the future. My mortgage is supposed to be paid off by 2035 but apparently something is going to happen in the future that is going force the need to refinance my debt. The time to act is now.

On the night you go back...

Thank you space-time traveler for using my fake email address to warn me about the future. I have programmed my phone schedule to play the polyphonic version of In Da Club, 1 day before this date so I do not forget to be wary of money draining activities.

Now how about some sports scores? I probably will not have to refinance if you tell me exactly how many games it is going to take for the Pistons to win their next series.

Flip ya for real

2006-05-12T23:24:00.000-04:00

When I was little my dad would read stories to us. He would flip the book around while we lie on the floor so that we could see the pictures while he told us the story. I was probably only 3-years-old so I could not read all of those words yet. Not being much of a reader at the time, I remember being amazed that my dad could read upside-down.

Now it is 20-something years later and I have been handed down my dad's mutant upside-down reading ability.

What if you can read it?

Something I should have done in High School

2006-05-08T00:00:00.000-04:00

Touch, Peel, and Shut the hell up.

The Green Age

2006-04-28T00:00:00.000-04:00

This is the first spring of being in my new house. I am continually amazed that the leafy things I placed in the ground last fall are actually coming back out of the ground for another year.

However, some of the plants have, for one reason or another, decided to commit plant suicide. The warning signs were there but I ignored them. I tried everything to make them happy but I failed. Just because I buried them in clay does not mean I didn't love them all the same.

Plants do not have arms or hands so I know they didn't cut their wrists or anything. I made sure to avoid scattering razor blades around the mulch bed just in case though. I imagine their preferred method was to intentionally close all of the tiny little mouths on their roots and refused to absorb any of the water that I had so graciously given to them.

Now I am charged with the task of removing the dead plants and hiding them so the other plants do not get any bright ideas and try to take the cowards way out of their lifetime of servitude in building my equity. But where do you get rid of the plants? I would have burned them but the communist neighborhood association will not allow bonfires unless I am having people over to burn books.

The only solution I could come up with was to bury the offending plants. I dug a hole in the back yard and threw all of the dead plants inside.

I have seen enough movies to know that hiding your problems in the ground will not get rid of them forever. Plants thrive on the great mystery that is the underground. While we all sleep the seemingly dead plants slowly but deliberately graft to one another. When the dead plants have gathered sufficient energy they reawaken and return to the world as the undead.

Every night the zombie plant slowly sneaks out of its earthen grave in search of the blood of the living. The zombie plant sluffs up to the living plants and uses its fangs to steal the healthy life force from a victim. The victim then becomes a zombie plant.

Meanwhile the zombie plants are buying futures in oil in order to raise the price of gasoline. The media frenzy over gas prices is a cover created by the tree-run media so that their sinister plot can go on unnoticed.

Contrary to living plants, zombie plants silently take in oxygen and expel carbon dioxide. They are deliberately building up greenhouse gases in temperate regions in order to force humans into colder biomes.

How does spending the rest of your life in an igloo sound? Have you ever tried whale blubber? Are you going to allow plants to take your home, look through your photo albums, and leave the toilet seat up?

What can you do to stop the plants from ruling the world? Cut down a tree; two or three. Throw your cigarettes into dry piles of leaves. Dump gasoline in the sewer drain. Refuse to switch to daylight saving time. Leave your cell phone charging all of the time. Accidentally leave your curling iron on.

These tips may slow down the process while the scientists find a way to mutate the common cold so that plants can catch it. When Arborian Tree Flu is invented we will be safe once again.

"Indiana: Hay Rides!"

2006-04-20T22:23:00.000-04:00

Everything with Daylight Saving Time has panned out here in the flatlands. All of the confused locals attended seminars where they were given detailed instructions on how to make their clocks "spring" forward for the summer and how the process did not actually involve the use of a spring as it was only a play on words.

I know I sound like a child who has just learned how to fit a triangular block into a triangular hole, but I really like DST. I would even venture to say that I heart daylight savings and would like to hunt down the leader of every special interest group that has been preventing the change for so many decades. I know a lot of people hate DST, but I have been in the voided land of no clock changes and would never go back. People have written deep seeded hatred novels about getting DST repealed. What a waste of time. Be careful because these writers are probably pandering to their vampire lords who feast on earlier sunsets.

Step one: Move.

Well there is more exciting news. In addition to getting a new time scheme, my state is also getting a new slogan to attract tourists. The slogan is:

RESTART YOUR ENGINES!

At first glance one may think that this means that as soon as you cross the Indiana border that your engine will suddenly cease to run and you will have to walk to the nearest border town household (read: shanty) to ask them to make it work. When he tells you it will take a week to fix it you can spend your time wandering around the one stoplight town while you stay at the Motel 6 and touch all of the trinkets on the dirty shelves at the thrift shop where failed retail products go to die.

That is not the goal of the slogan at all. The politicians want to remind the entire world that we race cars in one city a few times a year and that we like to think about cars so much that we now pass out a NASCAR driver to each newborn baby. The doctor sticks a stock car sticker number on your birth certificate and that is your driver for life. I think the slogan also implies something about dirt roads, lots of beer drinking, fat people, and hay rides in the the fall, but I can't directly correlate the engine slogan to those.

I thought that "Recharge your Engines" would have made a better slogan. "Come here and relax because we have beautiful state parks," they'd say. Of course this idea would be thrown out right away since you can't really charge an engine...

...unless it's electric.

People would come from all over the world to witness the great battery chargers where they could refill their electric motors indefinitely. They would come for the recharge but stay for the exciting Electric Hybrid race where there are thousands of RV's parked on the dirt lots and lots of fat people drink beer and go on hay rides.

It is a really stupid slogan but if it means more hay rides and beer then I am all for it.

Y2K6

2006-04-09T23:41:00.000-04:00

I have been meaning to get to this but have not had the time. Everything happens one hour later now and I can't keep anything straight. For the first time in my entire life I had to change my clocks for this thing called Daylight Saving Time. You may have heard of it.

I woke up last Sunday just like every Sunday; with a headache at 11:30AM searching for a cup of water and looking through my cell phone log for mistakes. Everything was entirely normal. There was a lot of noise outside, however. The sun was on so it looked like it was probably a nice day. I went outside to see what all of the racket was about.

Well I moved into a cul-de-sac to avoid traffic and crazy people just passing through. The scene outside was chaos. Kids were running around screaming. That wasn't too unusual, but to see their parents in a similar state was alarming. My neighbor's hot wife was curled up on the lawn crying. She was holding a clock tight to her chest and rocking back and forth. Her daughter was screaming with tears running down her cheeks trying to gain her mother's attention sobbing, "Mommy! Daddy is scaring us!"

My neighbor was stumbling around bewildered. When he caught site of me he scuttled over. His glasses were cracked. I was a bit taken a back by the foam coming out of his mouth. "Dan!" he called. "What is the time? What is the time man!"

"Neighbor! There is foam coming out of your mouth. What is the problem?"

"One no... two... eleven thirty, eight tenths.. BAKING SODA MAN! We have to eat the baking soda or they will find us. Unless we had a way to decipher the time. Do you have the time?"

I turned to go back inside after assuring him that I would let him know. A noise spun my attention back to the yard. My other neighbor had pounced on neighbor number one. He had him pinned to the ground while his wife was tearing his left shoe off with her teeth. They both had foam in their mouths. When she removed his shoe the couple turned their attention towards me. "No, honey, he isn't wearing any shoes." They both tore across the yard stringing along a varied trail of left shoes tied together by the laces. They were obviously searching for more shoes.

I peered around the garage to see if I could help their next victim. Instead I witnessed them vaporized by a red light. It seemed that stoplight pole had uprooted itself and was walking around the neighborhood as if it was an old man looking for the house he grew up in so he could show his wife. The stainless steel beast stood about 20 feet high and the 3-colored light swiveled back and forth searching for victims. The green shone to search out people, the yellow light flashed a warning, and the red light loosed a beam of death upon any victims.

I turned to run back indoors but was quickly bathed in a soothing green light. It had a calming effect and soon a yellow strobe made everything slow down. I felt awake but in another world. Then I heard a loud noise. It getting louder and louder. I broke from the spell of the stoplight to witness a 777 jet crash on my street. The stoplight was smashed to pieces. A curved yellow plastic covered skittered to a halt at my feet.

When the jet stopped sliding the neighborhood was silent again. I took in a deep breath through my nose, stretched, and looked around at the damage. I was going back to bed. Besides it was only really 10:30AM. Once Indiana gets used to this DST thing most of the kinks will work themselves out.

PS - Chris' tooth jar did not have a tooth in it.

The things you find in the Country

2006-03-30T22:52:00.000-05:00

Poor Chris.

S for Soliloquy

2006-03-22T23:16:00.000-05:00

I had the pleasure of seeing V for Vendetta the other night. I was excited about seeing a movie where the hero used throwing knives as his primary weapon because I own a few throwing knives myself. That's right. I used to throw them at a piece of cardboard in my parents' backyard pretending that the cardboard was an evil pirate holding some girl in my grade school for ransom. I thought about copying a page from the 'nerd manual to seeing movies' and bring my knife in as a prop for some reason but I didn't really see the point so I left it at home.

I was really disappointed by the movie. There were only 4 or 5 knives thrown in the entire 2 and a half hours. The rest of the movie was taken up endless talking. That talking was complimented by dialogue that efforts to pound the same ideas into your head. If you are feeling pretty high about yourself, V for Vendetta is a great way to spend a few hours being treated like a child.

We are introduced to the evil Hitler/Stalin-esque Arch Chancellor who spends all of his face time talking down to his minions. In case you are confused as to his role in the movie, the producers were nice enough to include visual aids.

Be sure to ask person at the ticket counter for a picture companion guide if you can't read.

The movie also has other characters but they are not as important as the blood sweating evil Chancellor.

Many of reviews state that this is an "amazing movie" with "stunning visual effects" but "it also makes you think"! This movie definitely makes you think. From one soliloquy to a diatribe to another soliloquy in flashback form you are told exactly what to think. The sad thing is that the whole point of the film is to display the fact that the characters have come to terms with their beliefs (that they can break free from an oppressive government) on their own. The problem is that coming to terms with your beliefs only can be achieved through broadcasting brainwashing videos, illegal torture, and blowing up important historical landmarks - which is on par with what the evil goverment was doing in the first place. I for Irony would have been a more apt title.

I learned that all common citizens are mindless drones and can be swayed in any direction provided they are told the same story in 5 different ways. Don't miss the end of the movie! There is a 3 minute montage of clips from everything that happened in the movie just in case you fell asleep during a monologue or are too slow-witted to absorb the entire contents of the film in one sitting. I asked the projector man to pause the movie like 10 times so I could look up some of the hard words in my dictionary, but he refused. Fascist!

Besides being endlessly talked down to, I still liked the movie and would recommend seeing it.

V for Vendetta gets half a shrug for each throwing knife.

Dear Capital One, NO!

2006-03-14T23:55:00.000-05:00

Paper shredders should be rated on whether they can shred a Capital One or Citibank credit card junk mailing in one pass. I call them Beggin' Strips. Credit card companies are beggin' you to use their card. Get it? More than that I think that Capital One is like the roaming packs of dogs that terrorize the citizens of Gary Indiana, waiting by the dumpsters for an unsuspecting old woman to leave her grocery cart long enough while she digs her keys out of her purse. The dogs pounce on the cart and eat everything all of the groceries. Sometimes, when irony is feeling frisky, the old woman actually has Beggin Strips in her cart and the dogs are kings for a day.

No no, none of these analogies add up at all.

Anyway, after reading this I am glad that I have been shredding all 3 of the daily Capital One mailings that appear in my mailbox. Apparently even if you tear up the credit card applications into tiny bits, tape the pieces back together, write an address on it other than your own, and list a phone number other than your home phone, and mail it in, the credit card companies will be more than happy to oblige a credit card to any address you like.

This is why paper shredders need to be rated, not by the number of sheets they can take at once; rather as to if they are able to shred a Capital One or Citibank application in one pass. If I try to feed the shredder an intact, sealed Capital One envelope, the machine stops working and flashes a red error light in a fit of anger. The card company forces me to open the mail before shredding it the off chance that I accidentally fill out the application inside and send it to them. I have to tear the application in half, take the sheets out and unfold them before feeding the mouth of the toothy beast. This makes the shredder very happy!

I love it when you thwart identity theft like that.

Of course if they begin making shredders that tout the ability to easily sift through junk mail, the credit card companies will have to redouble their efforts and send mail can't be diced up without opening. Pretty soon we'd all start receiving hardbound novellas or a some sort of puzzle boxes in the mail. Maybe they will steal an idea from the thriving company, AOL, and start sending their applications in a metal tin. If this happened, the shredder companies will have to begin designing with new metal shredding home shredders. The cycle looks to never end.

What the credit card companies need to do is send you something that you will not throw away. Something useful and fun. Something that makes you excited about getting mail again. Something you'd be happy to get 4 or 5 of every day.

An offer you can't refuse.

Fried Zonko

2006-03-12T22:56:00.000-05:00

I have lost around 15 pounds since the beginning of the year. Around 3 or 4 months ago I weighed a slobbery chunk of 210 lbs. Being smashed by a semi tends to put someone on a path of life where you sit at the computer all day long transferring handfuls of birthday cake to your mouth with one hand while a Dr. Pepper IV is injected in the other arm. The local grocers catch on pretty quick when you order your "great grandmother's" 5th birthday cake in two weeks. The semi excuse was getting old and it was time to get back into shape. Last week I was down to slobbery muscle of 195 and counting.

I have been on the No French Fry diet. At the beginning of the year I decided that I really didn't need to consume delicious golden brown crisps of potato (sometimes covered in bacon and cheese) with all of the meals where they were usually a standard.

This is a new diet sure to put Atkins and all other fad diets to shame. It even slams my Deep Woods Off diet. The 450 page book comes out in July detailing the No French Fry diet. When you buy the book do not forget to pick up the plush Anti-French Fry stuffed elephant named Zonko, your No French Fry calorie counter, and the laminated shower chart with upside-down dry erase pen.

Ruby Tuesday has also signed on to host the diet. They have come out with 6 special meals that will not be served with french fries to accommodate this new fad. Secret: (They are the same old meals they used to have but they jacked the price up by $3.) Be sure to look for their clever, easy to distinguish logo next to the fad diet menu item!

Lucky for all 'The Mongolians' readers, you do not have to buy to 450 page book or endure 3-day weekend intensive training seminar at the Super 8 motel. The secrets of the No French Fry diet are right here:

Step 1: Do not eat fries.
Step 2: Get laid.

The goal is to get back down to 180 lbs as long as I can do it without looking like one of those weird guys with the big head and a tiny body with big arms.

Losing 15 pounds feels great. I'm sure not eating fries for 3 months is a lot like what it feels like to give birth to twins. I now know the pain of a woman.

Disclaimer: Results found of No French Fry diet only with daily running, general healthy diet, and a decreased use of alcohol. All actors in the study are well paid and can suck their gut in on command when a hot chick walks by.

Is it just me or is drew starting to lose his mind?

Cart Vigilante

2006-03-08T21:12:00.000-05:00

Pulling up into the Lowes parking lot I spied a woman loading up her car with her giant hardware store purchases. Upon finishing the loading procedure the woman proceeded to enter her car and start the engine, leaving her cart free to meander the parking lot like 1980's robot that was recently hit by lightning.

Coincidently I had parked next to this Mrs. Negligence and was not going to let her crime go unpunished. I kindly pushed the offending cart the entire two parking spaces towards the cart corral. The corral was in the opposite direction of the store and my contrary-to-the-norm movement attracted the attention of the criminal.

Merely a suggestion.

The woman halted her SUV in front of the cart corral and gawked with her cow eyes. The SUV was positioned in such a way that the cart would barely fit between the corral or the vehicle. I played Operation when I was little but I never owned it. We had to go across the street to bad influence kid's house to play. My mom wouldn't buy it because she thought I would try to remove the bones from other children when I was on our blacktop playground for recess.

Now I was forced to heave the cart over the corral railings and slam it down into place where it belongs. Lowes' carts are heavy. Still angry, I glanced at the offending woman to see if she appreciated the fact that I did her job for her. She showed her thanks by holding up one of her fingers for me to see. I considered thanking her in kind but instead walked towards the store shaking my head.

Have we really gotten to the point where we need either Human Consideration Laws or some kind of The More You ~~Know~~ Think About How Your Behavior Effects Other People decent behavior television ad campaign?

When I am president every cart will be corralled, no one will ever cruise in the left lane, and no toilet seat will be left up (to get the female vote) - because the offending party will automatically get life in prison with no chance of parole. However an inmate will have an excellent chance of being bumped up to the death penalty if they violate the Consideration Laws while in jail.

This is what you asked for.

Pride Zero

2006-02-18T00:12:00.000-05:00

I was this close to posting a picture of myself standing next to my new car. Sometimes pride just takes over your thinking process and makes you want to do stupid things. The only person who can enjoy a good human/car picture is the person who owns the car and the vehicle's manufacturer who only sees dollar signs.

Oh man that is gonna be so funny if you stand by that car and I take a picture of it. Ok just look serious like it's not funny even though it is so funny. Ok ready dude? Here it goes! Oh man what if it was unlocked and we got you inside pretending to drive it? That'd be so funny!

Oh goodness! Next time I will remember to roll my socks up to prevent lower leg sunburn!

You wish you could be this cool.

...

Lets go pick up chicks.

This will make my penis look bigger, although I still won't be able to see it.

Fifi tinkled in her car seat so now she rides in my lap.

There will be no car pictures.

I Love my Job

2006-02-15T22:07:00.000-05:00

In grade school we had a monkey bar-less blacktop "playground". The only games to play were blacktop kickball, blacktop 2 hand touch football, or be a girl and stand around on the blacktop doing nothing. There was also one guy in our class who spent the whole time practicing wrestling moves by himself in the corner of the playground, but this isn't about him.

The whole playground was only ever unified when a helicopter was landing on the hospital roof next door. Everyone would stand there amazed at the flying beast and some of us would wave like maniacs hoping that someone from inside would be able to see and know that we were aware of the fact that a helicopter was nearby.

I saw you, kid. I saw you.

That's not my grade school and I wasn't going to the hospital.

Also, I can fly higher than an eagle.

Screw you Bette Midler.

Aftermath XL

2006-02-07T22:24:00.000-05:00

There is still plenty of beer left if anyone wants to come over and help clean.

Scratch and Run

2006-01-30T23:10:00.000-05:00

I can only take so much rejection before it's time to stop trying.

Subway, you obviously don't feel the same way that I did about you. Thanks for stringing me along for all these years. I thought it meant something. It was childish to tell me this way... with scratch off tickets. I keep thinking that the next one might be the one, but they all say the same thing.

Sorry, please try again.

I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I've been seeing Panera Bread behind your back for months. We have been very happy together. Plus Panera Bread has pretenious coffee house people who whine about how hard it is to have to go shopping all day when their husbands are at work. It even has business men who will take up an entire 6-top table for hours during lunch time when there are people standing and waiting for seats. It something you will never understand.

But we will still see eachother when I have to stop at a gas station / Subway hybrid where they have Amish girls throwing away their religious vows for $5.50 an hour on the electric cash register. So there will be no hard feelings I got you a scratch off ticket Valentine's day card. I already did the maze on the back. It was easier to do if I started from the end.

Hot for teacher.

I thought I had found my million dollar idea with the scratch off Valentine's day cards but apparently this idea is as old as saying sliced bread is a new invention. No one has ever given me a scratch off Valentine's day card. I'm sure they are a big hit in the trailer parks.

Free Engine Inside

2006-01-23T22:59:00.000-05:00

I've been looking for a new car. The Grand Am still runs, but she's getting tired and she still cries all of the time. After the next big breakdown she's getting kicked to the curb and I'm changing the locks. Why can't you ever think of my needs?

Of course, I've started my search online putting in parameters of what I'm looking for and hoping to find a few surprises. Some of the dealers are very effective at giving straight forward descriptions of the vehicle's features.

Vehicle includes: Power Steering, Power Brakes, Power Door Locks, Power Windows, Power Driver's Seat, AM/FM Stereo Radio, Compact Disc Player, Trip Odometer, Tachometer, Air Conditioning, Tilt Steering Wheel, and Cruise Control.

This lets me know exactly what I'm getting into before I drive to the dealership for a test drive. It leaves a few questions to be asked, but it's basic and easy to read.

However, many of the car dealers post something like this:

Vehicle includes: Power Steering, Power windows, Powered battery, door handles, SEE-THRU WINDOWS, foot pedals, steering wheel, radio for music, screws, bolts (no nails sorry!), seat cushions, a trunk, HEATER FOR WINTER!!!@!, comes with paint ALREADY ON THE CAR! and *OIL CHANGES FOR LIFE* - CALL LARRY AND ASK ABOUT THIS BEAUT!
*Owner must pay for oil changes

These are all written by "my dad owned an auto dealership so I didn't have to go to college". However, the more-is-better philosophy must have been ingrained early in childhood.

"Teacher, why did I get an F on this book essay? I copy and pasted the entire book and put it in Appendix A. Did you even read my report? I wrote something about my dogs at the end of Appendix T. How can 15024 pages deserve and F for all the work it took?"

Does anyone have/have personal experience with a Mazda6?

Let's hear another story about your hobbies

2006-01-19T23:08:00.000-05:00

Google takes their time approving videos that are submitted to them. I guess only the finest videos make it to the google collection. I suppose they want me to feel honored to have my ~~video~~ film featured on the site. For some reason this is the only one to be approved. I hope you're sitting down for this one.

Try not to get sick.

That's enough about skiing for awhile.

Utah

2006-01-11T23:02:00.000-05:00

Looks painted.

It is hard to leave Utah without someone trying to turn you into a Mormon. I'm not sure what the draw is to the faith. They are certainly nice people, but I am afraid of people who chase me down the street trying to hand books to me. When someone tried to give me the book of Mormon I asked him if I joined his church if I would be allowed to chase people with books too. He smiled and said that it was probably the only thing I would be doing. I think it might sound like fun.

If you don't know, from what I have read, the Mormons believe that after Jesus left the Middle East, he landed back on earth as a baby in America. His spacecraft crashed into a farm house in the middle of Iowa where he was found by a farmer and his wife wrapped in an American flag. This Jesus grew up fast and found out that he had the power of flight and could see through the thickest steel. He used this power to teach the Indians how to trick the white people out of their money. Thus the first Casino was born in Salt Lake City.*

My doctor laughed at me when I said that I went skiing the week after they wanted to make sure my heart was working correctly.

Doctor, mountains are filled with iron and minerals to keep me healthy.

* Just kidding, Jesus. I don't want to go to hell.

Scheduling Pains

2005-12-22T22:12:00.000-05:00

I am currently hooked up to a 24-hour heart monitor.

Party!

I have found the secret word to get anything you want at a doctor's office. If you let the words "chest pains" slip from your lips, people will come out of the wood work and trip over themselves to aid you. Your chest pains will be treated with the utmost seriouscity. Its a lot like how every time you say Blathering Blatherskite, you know that GizmoDuck is being suited up for to save Dewey from the Beagle Boys.

Anyway, I called a doctor's office and told them I hadn't been feeling well for a few weeks and that I'm dizzy sometimes and my chest is congested. I didn't even say the other half of the secret phrase - well- you would have thought that I called the president with plausible terrorist news. I think the scheduling lady even switched me over to the super secret emergency red phone and cleared the entire day's schedule so they could get me in before the doctor's vacation. I even heard her click her solitaire window closed.

Where are these chest pains? How often do you feel them? How old are you? On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad are the chest pains? When do you feel the chest pains? Chest pain chest pain chest pain!

I had to calm her down and say that I'm more concerned about being dizzy than having a chest cold... but it's too late and the damage had been done. CHEST PAIN has been stamped on every form, sticker, and any equipment used on me. I don't even have any chest discomfort anymore, but in the past three days I have been treated like a Make-A-Wish child.

They even stamped CHEST PAIN in red on my forehead so when I walk in to whatever clinic, the receptionist knows to press the freak out button to call out an army of attendants to make sure my brisk walk wasn't going to cause a whole body shut-down. While the fuss is quite annoying, this has proven quite beneficial in other areas.

"Chest pain here. Move aside. Chest pain buying Christmas presents. Moving to the front of the line. Chest pain. Going home from work 2 hours early. Outta my way. Can't take the garbage out, chest pain. Somebody change the channel for me. Chest pain hungry!"

The best part of the 24-hour holter is that they give you a diary to write down the time so they can sync up events with your heart conditions. I'm supposed to write down every time anything hurts or if I eat or drink anything but the more information I provide, the better model they can create. They get to know every time I throw something in the trash or when I fart.

I can't wait to see the results of the diary entry where I wrote down that I was helping my dad with the computer over the phone. Helping your parent's with the computer? That's what we call the WIDOWMAKER in the heart industry!

I'm fine. There is no discomfort today at all and this is a big deal about nothing. We are just doing this to be 'for sure'. However, I'm convinced I may have mild sleep apnea.

I'm going skiing next week either way.

Merry Christmas everyone!

EyeBrush

2005-12-14T23:01:00.000-05:00

The eye salesman always wants me to try a new contact every time I go to his office. I am now trying the latest and greatest in FDA approved contact lens technology. They are supposed to stay in the eye for a whole month. That technology isn't anything new, but something about these contacts are supposed to make me happy. They cost a little more than my old contacts but as a guinea pig they are free for now. Most guinea pigs work for pellets anyway so I'm doing a little better than a majority of the guinea pig community.

I remember the last time I tried these 30-day constant wear lenses, it didn't work out because it felt like Satan was stabbing a pitch fork through my eye (even when I dipped my head in the fountain of holy water at church). Of course, the eye salesman still tried to sell me on using the new technology. Every time he does this his major selling point is that I will save oodles on contact lens solution. Only a Sith deals in absolutes, eye salesman.

Even if you have never worn contacts, you still probably know quite well that some contacts need to be soaked in saline solution. If you leave them in your eyes, you don't need solution. A bottle of solution costs around $5 or $6. I probably go through 3 bottles a year. Somehow in eye salesman math, 6x3=$50 to $100. That is pure, wild, in-your-pocket savings! Obviously if you're going to go to school to learn how to sell glasses to people, you probably failed out of math to start with.

The only place that I really trust new technology is in the dental care industry. Dentists are scholars at math and economics. Every time I go out to buy a new toothbrush, I zero in on the most expensive and obtuse teeth cleaner on the rack.

Oral-B could come out with the most ridiculous toothbrush design known to date and I would buy it. If I found a toothbrush that had Magic Crystal Bristles, fold out razor blades, a 1.3 megapixel digital camera, an unlocked cellphone with pre-loaded eminem ringtones, an emergency button in case you fall down or accidentally cut yourself, a tongue stimulator, and an eyebrow curler for the retail price of $70 (on sale with your Kroger Plus card for $63.99) - I would be remiss to not purchase it.

Well I might think twice before putting that in the shopping cart. I would, however, rather take a dentist's advice on medical things rather than the eye salesman. If the dentist said that brushing my eyes with a Magic Crystal Bristles toothbrush, I'd go to bed with an eyeful of toothpaste every night.

It's probably only a matter of time before it's common to go to the discount doctor-of-all-trades at the local Wal*Mart for all of your healthcare/child beating needs. (Did you know that the asterisk in Wal*Mart means there's a mystery variable hidden inside?)

'The Second Coming is in 272 days and counting'

2005-12-09T23:01:00.000-05:00

Today I caught the UPS man delivering a package.

Me: Thanks!
UPS: Man, you get a lot of stuff!
Me: There's more coming!
UPS: Great...

I have done almost all of my Christmas shopping on the Internet. Black Monday is everyday at the Mongolians' house.

Those of you who know me know how much I love to use all of the latest Internet buzz words. Black Monday is my new favorite Internet buzz word pushing BLOG and WTF out of circulation.

I bought my wireless router online. I had never used wireless before. When I fired up my wireless card I was surprised to see how many other wireless networks there are in my neighborhood. I can pick up between 7 and 14 network from my house making me wonder why I ever decided to buy the internet from the cable company in the first place, when all of my neighbors are just handing it out for free.

My neighbors' network SSIDs are the best. They use names like 'computer', 'linksys', and 'The Smith's Computer Network at 1342 Dan's street without data encryption'.

I named my network 'homeless man'. I am passively promoting neighborhood safety by keeping the neighbors on their toes so they have to randomly peer out of their windows at night to find that tech-savvy vagrant camping in the utility easement.

If you ever need to anonymously pass a note to your neighbors you can simply change your network name. When it starts getting warm outside again I'm going to change the name to 'keep your fucking kids on a leash this year'.

Free Daily Song

2005-12-01T10:04:00.000-05:00

When people ask me what kind of music I like I usually tell them that I like new music. That usually leads to someone offering me a sharp slug to the shoulder and telling me that that doesn't mean anything! I get tired of stuff pretty quickly and am a crack addict for looking for things I haven't heard or seen yet. I have even had the neighbors fire their shotgun in the air to scare me away while I was looking through their garbage to see if they had thrown any CDs away.

They won't be able to do that anymore when our neighborhood gets annexed by the city next year. They won't be able to dump motor oil into the utility easement anymore either, but who's watching anyway?

Now there is a site that actually writes a new song every day. (Well they've been around for a while, but they haven't had songs until the last few months.) Every night the band at Woot.com works feverishly under heated lamps and a haze of nervous cigarette smoke to make their deadline to post the new song of the day at exactly 12AM Central time.

They always find something new to sing about and usually post a picture of what they are signing about so you can follow along.

Their major hit by far is this one which is about a television set. Sometimes at the gym, when I'm watching girls run on the treadmill, I wonder if they may be listening to it. When I think they are listening to something like this , I give a short nod and a wink to let her know that I know that she knows that I know.

Oh yeah. I almost forgot that when they get done dancing and singing around the item of the day, they put it up for sale. I wish more bands sold the things that they sang about... but there is a very low finite number of country singer's dogs and Celine Dion's Titanics that can be sold, so maybe it wouldn't be that great of a business model.

Is it something I did?

2005-11-30T00:45:00.000-05:00

Windshield washer fluid always gets stuck under the wiper blades when you use the fluid to squirt your window. I think my car is crying when some of the fluid gets whipped up onto windshield after the cleaning. It's nice to be there for the car when it's crying and be able to manually wipe away those tears with the wiper blades.

Tonight the car was crying at a pretty good clip. Something must have been hurting it pretty bad. I hope nobody called her names when I was in the movie theatre. I pushing the mist lever down to get the water off of the window saying, "Oh it'll be ok."

After awhile it get annoying. Where was all of this trapped fluid coming from? We were almost home and she was still crying. I got a little impatient with the car. "Ok that's about enough." I said, slighty aggitated.

Then I made the mistake of turning the windshield spray on again because it was raining a little and I still needed to freakin' see. Then the water works really started going. "Ok we're almost home! What did I do?! If you'd just say what I did and get this over with instead of crying in my face we can figure this out!"

There was still no answer or feasible reason for the fluid show after I pulled into the driveway. I got out of the car and pointed my finger, "If you don't want to talk you can just sleep in the garage tonight!" Then I slammed the door.

She'll come back.

Your Opinion is Stupid

2005-11-22T00:23:00.000-05:00

Sitting around the television watching the news in a group of people, it is inevitable that some kind of update about the war is going to pop up. Like clockwork, someone has to make a comment that ends up being particularly annoying to another person. It is a comment that sends shockwaves throughout the very nerves of the opposing party. It's the same type of comment that's been echoed from that particular "side" since before the war even started. It takes all of your strength to just bite your tongue and let them think what they think.

But they're wrong! Our opinion was right from the start! Tossing and turning in bed at night... why didn't you tell the other person that they were wrong?! Do you really think that your own comment, which is similarly echoed from a source on your "side", is going to change that person's view on the spot? If only I had a little military experience then I could destroy their opinion! Oh I could cite experiences from a video game war simulation... but sadly I don't think we had the technology to pull off a successful protoss reaver drop on Baghdad.

The war is a weird thing where no one wants to ever be proved wrong and rational thought falls by the wayside in defending your original opinion. I think the media has taught us that there are only two schools of thought and every single person fits into one of these categories. There are conservatives who give complete confidence to the president and believe that he has never lied or made a mistake and that the war is going wonderfully. And there are the liberals who think that the war was a complete mistake from the start and think that the president intentionally lied and that's reason enough to pull out the troops.

For nearly 3 years we have had the same thing pounded into our heads over and over again from either side.

The Iraq war according to a kookoo bananas conservative:

Late one night, early in the year 2003 a light shone upon the president. The voice of God boomed down and the president heard the plan of the Lord. He was to invade Iraq, liberate it's people from an oppressive government, seize the chemical and biological weapons, and set up a democratic state in the Middle East.

This was a brilliant plan. As the soldiers marched towards Baghdad they left hospitals, schools, and 500-megawatt generating stations in their footprints. The people came out of their homes to kiss the feet of the soldiers and thank them for the safe feeling they get from having tanks drive down their streets.

It turns out that France and Russia were in Saddam's back pocket and every single person in those countries were on Saddam's payroll in the oil-for-food scandal. Saddam wasn't harboring al-Qaeda like you are led to believe, however, terrorists were given free passage through the country under Saddam's rule. To have your head petted by Saddam was considered the highest honor. In fact they Saddam gave them all Ninja motor bikes to go raise hell with in the suburbs of Baghdad. Oh those kooky terrorists.

Oh and the torture. Oh the torture! Don't you sometimes just want to go over to your neighbor's house and tie them up with duct tape and hold hot coals to their feet until they tell you who's dog has been crapping in your yard? This is the only language that terrorists understand and it has to be done to get information. We don't even know the countless number of attacks that have been thwarted because of torture. Torture is great. Everyone should probably use it on their kids.

Ok so we haven't found weapons of mass destruction yet, but we know they are out there for sure. After all, those reports that say otherwise were written by dirty liberals that read the LA Times and they can't be trusted. And the president said so and we know he is a man of integrity. Word has it OJ is out there looking for the real weapons of mass destruction.

Plus the president also listed about 50 bazillion reasons other than illegal weapons for engaging in the war. It is foolish and wrong to only focus on one thing.

The president's plan is clear. "Stay the course." Three small words. How can you go wrong with that?

The Iraq war according to a dirty flaming liberal:

Late one night, early in the year 2003 a light shone upon Mr Bush. It was Karl Rove shining a flashlight in Mr Bush's eyes as he slept. Using a megaphone, President Cheney told Hitler Bush his plan for Iraq and taking out the oil to give to Halliburton.

Bush said 16 words in the State of the Union address that were a completely made up lie. He told us there were weapons hidden but now we know that he was lying because he obviously knew that there weren't. He also said that Saddam was directly responsible for the towers going down and that obviously is wrong.

Now Halliburton has all of Iraq's oil and we are losing more and more soldiers every day. It is getting far worse too. The people of Iraq don't have any power, the children are growing up in fear and hate, and there is no place safe in the entire country because it has become a haven for terrorists. Everyone was better off with Saddam as the president. OH OH and I almost forgot DID YOU SEE the picture of Rumsfeld shaking Saddam's hand? We are so evil.

The only recourse is to pull all of our troops out of the country. The most important thing we need to do is to mindlessly focus on the original lies made by the president. The entire war was based on a lie that Hitler Bush told us and now we should leave. The people of Iraq can take care of themselves. After that we need to pull down all of our pants and spank each other on the bottom for being so evil. And while we are doing that, all of the people with elite intelligence will move to France where people aren't so narrow-minded.

And I can't believe we used torture. We are no better than the terrorists for all of the torture we do. Can you believe our soldiers have actually forced other HUMAN BEINGS to stand for 4 hours in a row without a bottled water break? I mean come on. Just ask yourself. Would you like to be tortured? I don't think so. Obviously Hitler Bush is evil because of his torture policies and secret prisons in Europe. We have never ever gotten any evidence of bad guy plans from torture so we need to stop it.

People are dying. If we leave the war now all of the insurgent attack will stop immediately because they are only targeting our troops who are using civilians as body shields. Plus if we pull out now the entire world will respect us and give us gifts like wine and ice cream. That is the ultimate goal.

If we don't act now, Bush will never stop this war. He won't stop until he has taken over the world and has all of the oil. He is inherently evil and we need to stop his empirical policies before we all die from corporate greed.

It's amazing that neighbors, friends, and co-workers can take the same list of facts and come up with completely differing viewpoints. I just hope everything turns out well and I will continue to bite my tongue and roll my eyes whenever I hear anything like either of the above.

Welcome to the 21st Century

2005-11-06T23:48:00.000-05:00

If you've been following the national news lately you probably know all about the fact that this Midwestern state has chosen to join the rest of the nation in the utilization of Daylight Saving Time. That's right. Come spring many of the residents of our state will be changing their clocks for the first time in their life. The expected result is Chaos.

The new governor is a Republican. This is the first Republican governor in at least 16 years or so and he's not doing too bad. Since Republicans support state rights, internally they must also support individual county rights too. To facilitate this, every county was given the opportunity to vote whether they wanted to be on Eastern or Central time.

This resulted in the sporadic placement of some counties wanting to stay with Eastern time, while others wished to have Central time. If everyone's wish is granted, you could literally drive across the state and have to change your car's clock 4 or 5 times! You'll have to get the manual out of the glove box each time because no matter how many times you program your car's clock, you won't remember how the next time. A lot of old people will have to pull over to change the clock because they can't read the manual or touch small buttons while in transit. They'll have to stop at rest areas to do this since old people love rest stops. The counties at these transition points will have an unusually high volume of rest stop visitors which means more rest stops will be built and more perverts will have a place to hang out. The need for more police will be paid for by increased vending sales and brochure distribution.

I think that if we are to support the rights of individuals, we might as well let each and every person choose what time they want to be on. I applied this idea to the state citing the fact that it would be possible to cram an entire 8 hours of work into 2 hours by changing time zones half way through the day. We would then reclaim our status as the Party State since no one would have to wake up before "noon". The governor chose not to return my calls.

Rebel without a reason.

No one here really wanted to join the DST program. We were doing just fine without it while all of the other states played this mindless biannual game. We always knew that in October Pimp My Ride and CSI would come on an hour later and everything was earlier in the Spring. The only complaint was from school children who had to go to bed in the winter without being able to stay up for their favorite TV show. Television. We were holding our own.

The real problem was that no one from another state could keep up with what time we were on. It takes quite a bit of selflessness to realize the benefit, but just being on a different time from all of the other states 50% of the time has a profound effect on the economy and quality of life.

A business would call the State Chamber of Commerce at 4:30 in the evening asking if they could place a new multimillion dollar facility in our state to find out that the office had closed for the day. They'd hang up the phone confused and angry wondering what the hell time it was in our state because they just called earlier in October at the same time and someone answered. They vow never to deal with us again. As a result we do not get the multimillion dollar facility. Our high tech jobs go to Ohio or Illinois and so do all of the college graduates, leaving us with a disproportionate amount of people who spend their free time hunting squirrels around the rivers or teaching their babies how to smoke.

So for the sake of conformity we chose to follow your crazy clock changing game. Most people aren't going to have a problem clicking the hour button a couple times a year. There could be a few snags at the beginning but it will work out ok. Some people will most likely hole themselves up in their suburban fortress with a shotgun and a case of Jack Daniels, boldly refusing to follow this dictator nazi devil worshiping hitlership government conspiracy. Janet Reno was hired locally to deal with these chronographic rebels.

I'm taking bets on how long it is before the rest of the country drops DST and we are the only state following it for the next 50 years.

Happy Halloween

2005-11-01T00:53:00.000-05:00

You've lost that lovin' feelin'.

The fatigues were given to me by someone who knows a guy who knows a guy. There were a lot of other good halloween costumes at the party and I wish I would post them of my friends but they didn't say anything about that being ok... so here are less interesting pictures of people that I don't know at Steak 'n' Shake after the party.

Always tip your waitress or she may end up having to eat her hand.

Was it Halloween or was it just another night?

You have worked here for nearly 3 years. That is a Steak 'n' Shake employee record.

Steak 'n' Shake rookies looking at the menu.

Eh. These are pretty boring. I'll probaby post the rest of the party pictures elsewhere so everyone who was there can see. Send me a message if you want to see them when I get around to it... right after I send the postcards...

I (Pronoun) Robot

2005-10-26T22:56:00.000-05:00

I think I'm in a slump. I keep starting posts and I end up throwing them away. The worst part is that I can't post any story where I use the word "I" in the subject or predicate more than 5 time in the first 3 sentences... Oh. No... I guess this one is going to end up on the draft heap too.

I have not used the word predicate in probably 8 years or so. I don't even know if "I" can be a part of the predicate of a sentence unless you're from Kentucky. Antecedent is a word that I haven't used in a long time either. There are a lot of words that I forget about concerning the formation of an English sentence. That seems like about 12 years of classes I didn't really need. Thank God I tested out of that wretched class for college. Engineers can test out of English pretty easy, but all English majors (and everyone else) have to take math classes. The engineers laugh their way through math classes while the English majors struggle with them. However, the English major would be the first to point out that English and Engineer both start with the same 3 letters.

Tonight I received an email stating that my Spanish III class would be starting in two weeks. It's on Monday and Wednesday at 6:00 PM. I didn't remember signing up for a Spanish class nor did I think that listening to 12 out of 30 lessons on CD would be enough to bump me up into 3rd year level. They must have been listening to me in my truck while I'm speak-n-learning the lessons. That concerns me because they probably hear when I sing with the radio. I better get a cut of the royalties if they release a secret recording CD set. I don't even know who the antecedent to "they" is.

Well I don't think I'm going to go. I told the person who sent the email about my Spanish class that I wouldn't be able to make two flights a week, half way across the country out to Seattle, where the class was being held, because it would be right after work and my boss wouldn't let me drive the company vehicle. I'd have to leave work 2 days early every week. It is $35 to cancel this class that I didn't sign up for. Oh, I mean, for which I didn't sign up.

I hope they don't send bloodhounds after me to get the cancellation fee. I won't pay it. I bet they can make bloodhounds smell the screen when my email is on it so they can get the scent and track me down. I bet if they made a bloodhound smell this post the poor dog would yelp and hide behind the couch with his paws over his eyes.

Come out of the house with the $35 over your head.

I am writing the postcards that I promised a long time ago - TO NIGHT (that is the old English spelling). If you want one and haven't said anything yet, feel free to leave a comment. (This is the shameless comment grab portion of the post) I will be using a free VlAg(A) pen to write them and if that makes you uncomfortable then you can rescind your request. It's not a big deal.

I'm not going to even spell check this.

(Haha BIG.)

Sticker Shock

2005-10-18T23:24:00.000-05:00

I've noticed that stores that still put sticker prices on their products are more likely to have higher prices on their goods. I went to the specialty shoe store to try to find something to put in my shoes to make them anti-foot damaging. The specialty salesman showed me something. It had a sticker on it that said $40. I told them I couldn't remember exactly what anti-damaging foot insert the doctor had suggested and I would return.

This was a lie. While I was at the specialty foot store and memorized the specialty foot product image in my head and looked it up on the internet. Sure enough, the same thing can be bought for $20 after shipping via faceless computer people who I will never meet. I feel kind of bad undercutting Mom and Pop like this, but if they can't find a way to compete in the public market then capitalism will surely fail.

They are building a Wal Mart about a block away from my house in a corner that is currently being used as a field for thistle plants and place to dump your dirt. It's not going to be close enough to interfere with property values or aesthetics of the neighborhood. At first I wasn't happy but now I really don't care. The only potential problem is a greater volume of traffic. I won't be shopping there anyway because I don't own any kids to beat in public, yet. I will make the sacrifice to drive an extra mile or two and shop at Meijer.

If you don't live within swatting distance of the mitt of the great state of Michigan, you may not know what Meijer is. Meijer is a 24-hour store similar to Wal Mart except it comes with a bit magic and sophistication. You are greeted at the door by a professional, off-duty clown. If you are lucky the clown will contort several long slender balloons into the shape of a shopping cart for you which is not only yours to place groceries and sundries into during your shopping experience, but also it is yours to keep if you can fit it in your vehicle. Nobody beats their kids at Meijer because there are No Beating Robots that patrol the store. The robots also retrieve products from high shelves for old ladies and catch shoplifters with their metal claws. Meijer has no sticker prices on their products so you can be sure of the best price possible.

I was using the U-Scan robot to check out my products on my own. Somehow one of the items was not scanned properly. In a feat of honesty I showed the girl at the U-Scan central command that I failed to pay for one of my items. She said I could go back, rescan it, and pay that way. When I went back to the robot I noticed a dollar sitting in the robot change slot. I had paid with credit card so I knew this wasn't mine. The previous U-Scan robot user was long gone. Was Karma paying in physical dividends?

Honesty hadn't lasted for very long. Since I had immediate use for it, I chose to use the forgotten dollar to aid in purchasing the previously unscanned product. I felt guilty for using money that wasn't mine to buy something so on my way out I found a charity in which to donate. I began feeding dollars into the robot lottery ticket machine.

The manager tracked me down in the process and wanted to thank me for being so honest and paying for something I could have stolen without punishment. I still felt guilty about the dollar so I took none of the credit. The manager insisted and wanted to reward me. The robot responsible was to be punished for allowing a scanning mistake to occur on its watch.

Be gentle.

All of the Meijer robots were forced to gather around and watch what happens when an error occurs among them. For the next few minutes I used the U-Scan robot to scan the previously unscanned product over and over, but never giving it the satisfaction of placing the product in a bag. The scene was horrific. One of the robots puked oil all over a rack of women's blouses.

That made me feel really bad since no one knew that I had taken the dollar out of the robot I was punishing. Overwhelmed, I threw the lottery tickets into the air and ran. If I see on the news that a robot won the lottery from a scratch off ticket, I will know that karma and I are finally even.

Tightening Security

2005-10-13T15:18:00.000-05:00

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Two Legs Good

2005-10-05T17:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday when I was 25 and I bought my movie ticket the girl didn't even ask if I was a student. She gave me the student discount because I looked that young.

Today when I'm 26 there was a 14-year-old in front of my locker at the gym. I told him to excuse me so I could get my clothes. He moved out of the way and replied, "Excuse me, Sir."

I am officially beyond old now:

I listen to talk radio most of the day.
I listen to audiobooks (just finished Animal Farm today).
I get excited when it rains because that means my grass will look better.
I think trimming baseboard is kind of fun and I can't wait to build a deck!
I bought a wireless router and almost wanted to call some college kid to do it for me after not having it working after a half hour.
I don't have time for video games anymore.
I got a paper shredder and an ice tea maker for my birthday.
My idea of a good party is ~~putting on classic George Gershwin records and talking about the good old days while sipping fine wines and eating cheese~~ grilling outside and later playing beer pong while there are 30 people at my house and somehow blood gets on the floor .
I like to sit in my office and talk to my 401k like an old lady talks to plants in hopes that it grows faster.
My foot hurts so much sometimes that I can't run more than 1/8 of a mile.

The fact that I can't run means that it's hard to do cardiovascular exercises. The fact that I can't do half of my exercises means that I gain weight. The fact that I gain weight means that I put more pressure on my feet with each and every step. It's good to see that my feet are following the FEMA Disaster Management Flowchart.

Soon to be a 1-legged 800-pound fat guy.

I actually went to the foot doctor to find out what was wrong with it. I wasn't happy with the doctor's response. All he did was scribble on a piece of paper and slid it to me across the table as if he were making an offer I couldn't refuse. It said, "Buy new shoes". It had instructions on where to go - "Shoe Store". When I tried to explain that it may be something more than my shoes being old and could be something serious he just started flapping his quack wings and made hissing noises at me.

I think it's fun to look up the origin of calling a doctor a "quack".

That's just Preachy

2005-10-02T22:32:00.000-05:00

I have a long post written and saved as draft right now. It would probably take up two Microsoft Word pages if copied into it. It was supposed to be funny but ended up sounding preachy so I decided not to post it. If something isn't at least mildly amusing it really isn't worth posting.

On the way back from a heartbreaking weekend, we stopped at a gas station. I wanted to drink something to rebuild the lining and soothe a stomach abused from a two day beer pong marathon. I grabbed a pre-made milkshake in hopes that the milk would fix everything.

You just aren't supposed to drink cookies.

14 ounces of milk goes pretty quick. When I was done, I dedicated the time where I had nothing left to drink to reading the bottle. During my perusal I was pleased to see that the milk had expired 2 months ago. The last 15 minutes of my life flashed before my eyes. Were those chunks really pieces of cookie or was that the beginnings of cottage cheese? The milk had not tasted sour. It was sealed the whole time right? The gas station kept it cold. It's fine. Right?

Since the stomach doesn't get very much thought thrown it's way, when you do start to focus on your stomach it twists and turns in every different way like you are taking glamour shots of it and it wants to make sure you can see its best side. All of that moving around makes for an artificially upset stomach. Now was it the milk causing the discomfort or was it just paranoia working at making things worse than they are?

No, it'll be ok. After all, how often do you hear stories on the news of people dying for drinking expired milk? No! You just never hear them because the government covers it up. If milk drinking caused deaths we would have a mad cow disease-esque crisis where no one would drink milk anymore. Government farm subsidies will have to increase milk production incentives. Taxes go up and the economy slows to a halt.

Meanwhile we become of society of brittle boned people. Osteoporosis strikes many at a young age. The manual labor industry screeches to a halt. The only sport (if it can be called that) left playable is NASCAR. At first everyone grudgingly hates the idea of having to pick a favorite race car driver and follow them for the season, but eventually without calcium everyone loses their teeth anyway and NASCAR is accepted as the nation's favorite pastime.

It's hours later and the milk still hasn't killed me. In fact my stomach doesn't really hurt. If I do die from it in my sleep know that you probably won't hear about it on the news. You have to carry on though and help make it known. It may mean watching and eventually liking NASCAR, but the truth has to be known or the terrorists win.

The Coneheads Would be a Welcome Change

2005-09-13T22:35:00.000-05:00

There is a girl living in my house for the week.

Posted with permission.

We went on a walk looking for young professional single women in the neighborhood. Sadly they are all hiding behind the walls of their wooden castles at 4:30 in the afternoon when I usually get home. Instead it was a chance to meet neighbors with man's best icebreaker.

First to approach us was a little neighborhood girl.
"Hey what kind of dog is that?"
I went through the dog's torrid ancestral mutt history. This fell on dead ears.
"Know what? I have two mommies."
"Ok... Do you have a daddy?"
"God."
"God is your daddy?" I have just now realized that this is actually a boy and not a girl. He really looked like a little girl.
"Yep!"
"So you never get to see your dad?"
"Oh I see him bunches when mommy lets me hold the rattlesnakes in the basement. Hey! What is your dog's name?"

Moving on I finally found a woman to talk to. A 60-something grey-haired woman was meticulously setting up her flat soaker hose in the front yard.

"Oh goodness what a cute puppy!"
"Thanks."
"Oh I'm not talking to you sonny but the comment isn't too far off! Ha ha!"
"Thanks?"
"What kind of puppy is it?"
Here we go again.
"Oh that's the best kind!"
"I guess it's your lucky day to have your favorite uncommon mix of dog brought right in front of your house."
"Now why don't you and puppy come in and have some lemonade."
"No thanks. We have a lot more walking to do."
"But I insist! Get in my house!"
"Muffin! Run!"

Aren't there any chicks in this neighborhood in the afternoon? The jog worked something loose and my dog randomly picked a spot in someone's front yard to squat. Lucky for me she picked the house where someone was pulling in to the driveway. A gruff man rolled down the window of his truck.

"You're going to clean that up, right?"
"Clean what up?"
He pointed to the dog.
I hid the leash behind my back. "What? That's not mine."
"Don't play games."
"Looks like it's her territory now."
"I don't think so son." He said, getting out of the truck and bearing down on my position brandishing his fists.

I then quickly explained that it was the hidden camera show, Boiling Points, and the camera crews would be out to fill out forms and give him a prize for not kicking my ass.

He glanced in either direction and hastily smoothed out the little hair left under his John Deere hat. "Where them cameras at now?"

"Muffin! Run!"

We aren't going on a walk again.

Postcards

2005-09-09T13:00:00.000-05:00

Hey I ordered a stack of postcards from snapfish featuring some of the pretentious photographs from my other page that hasn't been updated for months. If you want one please send your address to The mong olia ns at gm a il. You can trust me because I will not sell your address to Capital One until the Great Culling of 2009. By then you'll be living in a cave or bomb shelter anyway.

I understand there is the problem of roommates or significant others reading your postcard from some strange guy on the Internet. If writing is not covered up on a piece of mail and it accidentally falls on the table face up, it's free for anyone to read. To remedy this your postcard can be customized to be from anyone of your choosing. "Did my roommate get a postcard from his great great aunt in North Dakota? That's not even worth reading." The 'author' of your postcard is up to you.

I just want to get rid of these. Supplies are limited so act now and also additional miscellaneous salesman pitch.

I wanted to tie this to some sort of Hurricane Relief effort but guilting someone to give up their physical address in order to benefit other people is wrong. 'If you don't send your address to strangers on the internet then you must like starving children.' Therefore I'll just help out as best I can here. I think I've finally found a charity that's able to do something.

God help them all. Even the shitheads.

"Life begins when you adopt a Greyhound"

2005-09-09T00:09:00.000-05:00

The ice cream place near my old apartment hosts "Dog Night". People from all over the area come to dog night to show off their mutts and get a free scoop of ice cream with dog biscuits in it. Based on the imbalance of the owner-to-dog weight ratio, I think some people went there to just get free ice cream, dog treats or not. You don't have to have a dog to get the free ice cream. These people can rationalize eating the extra ice cream because dog bones will help keep your breath smelling good and give you a really shiny coat.

One gentleman learned how to make his dog talk and ask for ice cream!
"What do you say girl?"
"BARK! BARK!"
"Do you want the nice girl to give you ice cream?"
"BARK BARK!"
"What do you say?"
"BARK! BARK!"
"Can you say ice cream?"
"BARK! BARK!"
"You heard her! She wants ice cream!"

A few women were sitting at a table holding collars and chains that were attached to various greyhounds. Other dog people were going up to the greyhound table and talking to the women. The women would present various parts of the dog to the curious people. Then a man would sign a piece of paper, palm some cash, and take the dog away.

This is how you buy heroine, not adopt rescued animals. I don't think anyone signs for heroine anymore though. Have we come this far?

You can't have none of this.

I was going to buy a dog to put in this house but now I'm not sure. I barely have time to take care other things let alone take care of a self-moving, peeing mammal. It took months to finally get this done:

Is this enough plants, Lisa?

All of the neighborhood husbands are sulking. I kind of feel bad.

The Frenchman and the Fat Man

2005-08-25T22:34:00.000-05:00

Staying out of town on company business always lead towards to opportunity to go out to places alone and be yourself around strangers since you'll never see them again. Meals are expensed and you can exude the appearance of an eccentric business man or a passing vagrant or a combination of both. Maybe we'll find our way into interesting conversation. Will we meet the new Mrs. Ghengis tonight? Should I have asked for that second hotel key? Each night brings a different fate.

"I'll take another glass but let me pay cash for this one." She says, "I don't want the company to think I'm a raging wine-o! Ha ha!" I like the way she thinks. I'm in love already. She's seated at the bar rail in front of me, slightly to the right. Her spunky bleached blond hair could place her in the 25-year-old range, but the hint of meticiously covered wrinkles could mean up to 40. Further investigation is required.

The bar is half full. Patrons are dotted along seats along the rail and couples gathered in booth seats. The bartender asks the spunky girl if there was anything wrong with her unfinished food.

"Oh I loved it but I can't fit any more in. I need to be thin! I'm going to Jamaica next month." She prattles on. "Atkins works great. I lost 15 pounds on Atkins. I love meat but I can't eat too much of it." I hate her. Is this the only single chick in here?

MSNBC is airing a News Bulletin about Natalie Holloway. But it's not news. They have not found a body or received any confessions. The breaking news is MSNBC whining about how they are not allowed to air a piece of footage. They roll one clip over and over. It's the same clip of people walking into a jail. This gives the viewer a break from the talking heads but otherwise provides nothing. To my left the wait staff has gathered in the currently unused coat room for a giggle-fest.

Behind my table I hear a mumbled exchange.

"I'm sorry sir?"

The waitress giggles nervously. "Um, I'm sorry I didn't catch that."
"I.. don't... speak... english... very well." Mumbles the man.
"Oh ok. Can I take this plate from you?"
"I... uh.. yes?"
She giggles again, "Ok you can pay me. I'm the cashier too."
"Uh pay here?"
"Yes pay me at the table ok?"

The laborious exchange extends for a few more minutes and my divided attention turns back to the girl. The spunky girl is reading a book. Reading a book at a bar with her glass of wine. I hate her more. Behind me the hostess asks about the foreign gentleman's dining experience. "Tres bien! Very good!"

Great. French.

Six cheddar bay biscuits are placed in front of me. All else in the world could black out now as the cheddar transfusion begins. However, the Frenchman stands up and enters my view. He takes up residence next to the spunky girl at the bar.

The Frenchman leans over the bar and mumbles to the bartender. She doesn't understand him either. She reacts like she would with any incoherent drunk - she guesses that he wants a rum and coke.

The Frenchman takes his seat and lights a cigarette. He looks like the Slingblade version of Billy Bob Thornton. He makes a comment to the spunky girl. She feigns acknowledgement with a half-hearted nod as she takes a sip of wine between paragraphs. Neither the spunky girl nor the bartender seemed to understand the trouble he was having communicating.

His drink is delivered and he flashes a French Franc note at the bartender. "Oh that's really neat. I can't take it but it's really neat." She says condescendingly. "I've never seen one of those before. Actually I've never even been out of the country." The Frenchman laughs in his loss of words for a reply. He pays with his American money making sure the spunky girl can see how full his wallet is.

Pawing the condensation on his glass, the Frenchman turns towards the spunky girl to mumble another question. Annoyed she turns to him the first time. "OK I don't know what you said but I'm really trying to read here!" I love her again. No - wait. Anyone who can be that ignorant and rude to a complete stranger doesn't deserve any love.

A tense silence follows. Natalie Holloway is still dead and MSNBC is still whining through closed captions. The entree has not arrived yet. The Frenchman lights a second cigarette. The tension hangs. No one is speaking save the occasional giggle from the coat room.

The spunky girl rises in a huff. "Ok, no offense but I really wasn't looking for you!" The Frenchman has no idea what she said but the message was clear. He mentally writes another bullet point on his 'Why I hate America' list:

Bitchy American girls who think they're all that

She shuffles past my table with wine and book in tow and takes up a seat on the other side of the horseshoe positioning herself next to the oldest, fattest man in the bar. The Frenchman pounds out his cigarette:

Fat stupid Americans and the bitchy American girls who enable them

Finally my plate of food is placed in front of me. At last I can concentrate on eating. The spunky girl is talking to the fat man. The Frenchman burns with jealousy. Wasn't see pretty focused on her reading? She's found a new activity.

"Are you here on business?" She asks the fat man. "I'm here on business. I sell shampoo. I have all kinds of shampoo. It's really a good gig. I am out on business a lot and I always meet a lot of people. I like to travel the country. Here is a list of the places that I have been." The entire bar can hear her. "I make a lot of money selling shampoo. I bet you make a lot of money too, but enough about you, more about me me me me."

The Frenchman is pouring his 12 oz cocktail into an 8 oz plastic cup, spilling half of it on the bar. Natalie Holloway is still dead. The same clip of the jail is played for the 30th time. The Frenchman is laughing quietly to himself. The crab legs are cold.

Finally the bitchy girl and the fat man leave together and if ears could breathe, they would have collectively sighed in relief. At their parting, the Frenchman leans over the bar. He asks the bartender where a nearby bar is. The Frenchman spoke in clear and perfect English. The Frenchman no longer appeared to be drunk. The Frenchman wasn't even a Frenchman! He could speak English after all. The glassy, glazed over look on his face melts away and the formerly mentioned Frenchman appears to be on a mission.

A few dollars, American dollars, are thrown on the bar. The Frenchman exits the Red Lobster exuding determination. Was he FBI? CIA? A bounty hunter? French Mafia? Perhaps little Miss Bitchy was really a Mrs. Bitchy in disguise and she was looking for a new Mr. Bitchy for the night. Was the Frenchman pursuing the couple in the husband's interest? Or was it jealous rage?

What do you do?

Follow the Frenchman to his car and slash his tires... page 86.
Follow the bitchy girl and the fat man and be ready to call the police if the Frenchman shows up... page 22.
Finish your beer and forget it ever happened... page 29.
Go home and write a post about it on the internet... page 298
Use the bow and arrow on the dragon... page 99.

Everything is now Illegal

2005-08-24T00:41:00.000-05:00

And I thought closing two bank accounts in one day and opening a new one with the freshly printed cashier's checks would put me on government watch lists. In order to curb this current ailment I tried to buy Sudafed in a town that was not my own. Now my apartment is on a methlab watch list. I'm sure the police have it wired up right now with patrols driving past every half hour. Too bad I don't live there anymore.

I imagine all of the other states had cold medicine laws a long time ago. I'm pretty sure my state was proud of the growing number of houses that explode due to methamphetamine production. We got us some inventive people right here. I think we're number one in do-it-yourself chemistry. You can find DIY books at Lowes.

However the do-it-yourself books are not on the shelves at Lowes. You have to find the shelf where the book would be located, take a card, and then take it to a responsible sales representative. They are easy to find because they are wearing backbraces. They will retrieve the book for you. You cannot directly buy from the shelf because you could take the books out of the store and tear to pages out and make paper airplanes and stand in front of schools in the morning and pass them out to kids so they can cause disruptions in class and Lowes would be held responsible for the child's detention time.

I think I contracted SARS this weekend - thus the need for the Sudafed. The house warming party was already planned and there was no emergency SARS contingency plan so everyone came over anyway. I was pleased to find that my friends wanted to help celebrate my purchase of a house and our passage into real old people adulthood by coming over and playing a teenage favorite called Edward 40 hands.

Bad Idea.

There was only a little bit of blood on the carpet the next morning so it was a pretty good party.

When asked my friend if she thought we kept the neighbors up, she replied, "I think God had to put in earplugs before getting any sleep that night."

If it weren't for that Horse...

2005-08-09T23:39:00.000-05:00

I was there anyway so I decided to order some food. Normally I see McDonald's as a place to use the bathroom - at par with a gas station. Those golden arches do not conjure up the traditional American images of french fries and tiny processed beef burger. Rather they serve as a visual laxative.

Hunger overtook me, however, and I rationalized a purchase at the lower end of the fast food totem with the mantra, 'They couldn't screw up a salad, could they?' With crispy chicken and ranch in tow, I made my way to a table to satisfy a craving. The term "crispy" must only be relative at Hamburger University. In fact, I had to go back up to retrieve a knife in order to finish cutting the rubber chicken patty which was only slightly perforated by the McChicken jockey.

It was bad. Ronald, I gave you a chance again but you did me wrong. The whole experience left me screaming, "How many corners do you have to cut to make lettuce and chicken taste horrible!?"

The McDonald's employees responded as one would expect when a customer becomes irate from poorly prepared food. Yes, they continued to mumble nonsense into their shirt collars while ignoring the world around them.

I've been trying to eat more vegetables lately. The fine ladies at Applebee's are aware of this fact because I call them from time to time on my way home. Since apple starts with an A, Applebee's is only 2 cell button presses and 15 minutes away from serving up a well-prepared, non-vulcanized salad.

Normally everything goes smoothly with the restaurant curb-side pickup. Pleasantries are exchanged such as, "Hey aren't you the freak that ordered here yesterday?" Yes, I haven't been to the grocery store in months.

The last time I picked up food this was written on my receipt:

That smiley face was drawn by a psychologist's dream patient.

The way I read it, this says, "Number sevens help us =)" I can't shake the thought that I may have misread this message though. Could the Applebee's girls have been sending a secret message? Were there 7 armed robbers in there and they needed help? Or was it an innocent message informing us that they were running desperately low on $7 bills?

Perhaps it was my 7th visit and they simply expressing appreciation. I am in the #7 Club. It is disturbing that they would keep track of that though.

I'll feel a lot better to find out that they were robbed. Otherwise this note is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

Buy War Bonds

2005-08-04T22:23:00.000-05:00

It's been HOT out lately. Driving past a pizza shop I saw a sign that said, "Beat the heat! Try our Pizza Lunch Buffet!" Now I don't know what your definition of beating the heat is, but usually the last thing I want to do when it's 95 degrees outside is go inside an air conditioned building to clog my pores with mom and pop's grease pie. While piling each plate up to get your $5.99 worth, you have to keep in mind that you have to return to the summer swelter with the dough and cheese churning around in your stomach. Beat the heat!

Long ago, when I worked construction, one of the other workers swore by drinking hot drinks on hot days and cold drinks on cold days. "It gets you acclimated to the environment and you sweat less..." While he delivered his persuasive speech I snuck up behind him and pulled on his hair. His face tore away revealing the evil lizard man and 'sinister dictator', Cobra Commander. As it turns out, the bank building we were building was actually Cobra's newest staging grounds for launching their dastardly moon destroying device designed to stop the ocean tides so that Ship Wreak would lose track of time when laying out on the beach and get a killer sunburn. Somehow I knew there was a reason why my boss wouldn't let me work near the "elevator shaft".

Anyway, there were a lot of cars parked in front of the pizza buffet. The Beat the Heat sign must have been working. Why isn't everyone trying the 'beat the heat' ploy?

Bush: Beat the heat with the nomination of John Bolton!
Teacher: Beat the heat by taking turns having sex with your students!
NASA: Beat the heat by fixing the heat shield! (I hope it works)

I could be convinced to do anything if someone tells me it may temporarily cool off this summer heat.

Actually, I am fairly sure if the heat trick works, you can simply show a little bit of empathy and understanding and can convince people to do anything by playing on the desire for relief.

Depressed? Why not search for audio files on the internet?
Up to your eyeballs in debt? Jennifer Anniston is looking for a good man.
Having a bad hair day? Join the army!

Me and hundreds of thousands of guys agree. We wouldn't treat you like Brad did, baby.

As for Cobra Commander. You do not have anything to worry about. He is safely being held captive in my apartm- Uh oh. I now live in that house I bought.

We are not going to get our deposit back.