I want to spread some holiday cheer but I need your help. If you have a post about the holidays, leave a comment or an excerpt below with a link to your post so we can all enjoy it.
Urinating in a bottle brings certain challenges the most notable of those being stage fright.
They had me remove my shirt just in case I had someone else’s urine up my sleeve then I had to be sure to face the mirror while I filled the bottle so the “observer” could verify that the urine was in fact mine.
I was to provide 300 milliliters so the lab would have enough to test. I fell short by 10 milliliters.
Surely that was close enough…right?
Wrong.
The woman at the counter told me I would have to take a seat and wait until I could provide another 300 milliliters. Apparently, returning to the bathroom to top the bottle off was not an option. As I said yesterday, I had just returned from the restroom when I got the call to go fill the bottle so I really had nothing to give.
What do they want from me?
(300 milliliters of urine)
2 hours, people…that’s what it took to muster up a mere 300 milliliters. When I returned to the office 3 minutes later I sat down to check my email when the 12 gallons of water I had consumed hit me full force and I spent the rest of the afternoon running back and forth to the restroom.
This is my life.
At least I wasn't "chosen" to be an observer.
Who, exactly, does one have to piss off (pardon the pun) to be "chosen" for that duty?
Pee entertainment Military politics bladder
They had me remove my shirt just in case I had someone else’s urine up my sleeve then I had to be sure to face the mirror while I filled the bottle so the “observer” could verify that the urine was in fact mine.
I was to provide 300 milliliters so the lab would have enough to test. I fell short by 10 milliliters.
Surely that was close enough…right?
Wrong.
The woman at the counter told me I would have to take a seat and wait until I could provide another 300 milliliters. Apparently, returning to the bathroom to top the bottle off was not an option. As I said yesterday, I had just returned from the restroom when I got the call to go fill the bottle so I really had nothing to give.
What do they want from me?
(300 milliliters of urine)
2 hours, people…that’s what it took to muster up a mere 300 milliliters. When I returned to the office 3 minutes later I sat down to check my email when the 12 gallons of water I had consumed hit me full force and I spent the rest of the afternoon running back and forth to the restroom.
This is my life.
At least I wasn't "chosen" to be an observer.
Who, exactly, does one have to piss off (pardon the pun) to be "chosen" for that duty?
Pee entertainment Military politics bladder
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
I just returned from the restroom to find that I have to go “perform” for a urinalysis. I doubt I can fake it so I thought I would drink some coffee and write a post. That is not to say that writing has anything to do with whether or not I can pee in a cup.
I hope this is no indication as to what the rest of my day will look like. Check back often for updates.
Just as it says…it's an EXIT...keep on moving.
Has anyone ever driven through Mianus? I'm sure I would know if you did.
They should call this the Colon Water Company...
Mr. Duckslayer sent me a link to an interesting story concerning monkey porn and scientists. Apparently, a monkey will give up his juice to ogle photos of a female monkey’s butt.
..and that, my friends, is the missing link. Darwin was right. I have to admit that I’ve been known to give up the juice in my wilder days and I'm sure the rest of you have stuffed a juice box in a thong at some point.
These monkeys will also “pay” to look at the more popular primates. This discovery could lead to an entirely new target audience for People Magazine.
Conversely, scientists have found that male monkeys had to be paid to view a male monkey’s butt or a less popular peer.
I’ve just realized that Darwin was actually wrong. We haven’t evolved at all. We are still monkeys.
The clincher is that these scientists are trying to find treatments for autism. I fail to see the connection but I’m sure these highly educated individuals know what they’re doing.
Read the whole story here.
I hope this is no indication as to what the rest of my day will look like. Check back often for updates.
Just as it says…it's an EXIT...keep on moving.
Has anyone ever driven through Mianus? I'm sure I would know if you did.
They should call this the Colon Water Company...
Mr. Duckslayer sent me a link to an interesting story concerning monkey porn and scientists. Apparently, a monkey will give up his juice to ogle photos of a female monkey’s butt.
..and that, my friends, is the missing link. Darwin was right. I have to admit that I’ve been known to give up the juice in my wilder days and I'm sure the rest of you have stuffed a juice box in a thong at some point.
These monkeys will also “pay” to look at the more popular primates. This discovery could lead to an entirely new target audience for People Magazine.
Conversely, scientists have found that male monkeys had to be paid to view a male monkey’s butt or a less popular peer.
I’ve just realized that Darwin was actually wrong. We haven’t evolved at all. We are still monkeys.
The clincher is that these scientists are trying to find treatments for autism. I fail to see the connection but I’m sure these highly educated individuals know what they’re doing.
Read the whole story here.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
The following is a true story. It took place at 0900 MST on 27 Sep 2005.
I was sitting in my cubicle hoping no one would come to see me about anything because something I ate last night was reeking wreaking havoc on the air quality in my personal slice of the atmosphere.
Then the fire alarm went off.
As we exited the building, I overheard rumors of a gas leak.
I really wish I could have been in there with the firefighters as they tried to determine the source of the problem.
They emerged from the building saying that whatever the smell was had disbursed and there was no evidence of a natural gas leak.
Let’s just keep this our little secret…ok?
I was sitting in my cubicle hoping no one would come to see me about anything because something I ate last night was
Then the fire alarm went off.
As we exited the building, I overheard rumors of a gas leak.
I really wish I could have been in there with the firefighters as they tried to determine the source of the problem.
They emerged from the building saying that whatever the smell was had disbursed and there was no evidence of a natural gas leak.
Let’s just keep this our little secret…ok?
Monday, September 26, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
The wind is blowing about 20 mph and it looks like rain.
I called Mrs. Muzikdude’s cell phone only to receive a recording that stated: “due to the hurricane in your area, your call cannot be completed as dialed.”
Oh.
Really?
It’s bad enough that oil companies are using the tragedy of Katrina as an excuse to rip off the rest of the country, but now Cingular is using it as an excuse for providing substandard service – In Colorado. I don’t know why I’m surprised that they’re inept when it comes to lying. That's just the way they do things.
They could at least tell me I was just bitten by a rattlesnake so they refuse to connect my call until I seek medical attention. That would be more believable than a hurricane.
If this really is a hurricane; I wonder what everyone down south is whining about …all in all, I’d say this is a pretty nice evening.
I called Mrs. Muzikdude’s cell phone only to receive a recording that stated: “due to the hurricane in your area, your call cannot be completed as dialed.”
Oh.
Really?
It’s bad enough that oil companies are using the tragedy of Katrina as an excuse to rip off the rest of the country, but now Cingular is using it as an excuse for providing substandard service – In Colorado. I don’t know why I’m surprised that they’re inept when it comes to lying. That's just the way they do things.
They could at least tell me I was just bitten by a rattlesnake so they refuse to connect my call until I seek medical attention. That would be more believable than a hurricane.
If this really is a hurricane; I wonder what everyone down south is whining about …all in all, I’d say this is a pretty nice evening.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Mrs. BunnyBasher works at Starbucks so I get the inside “scoop”…so to speak.
Colorado Springs is apparently experiencing a “Starbucks Scam” that threatens to close the doors of the coffee giant. A woman entered the store where Mrs. Bunnybasher works. She was carrying two nearly empty Frappuccinos. The woman said she had purchased the drinks the night prior and was dissatisfied with them. She demanded a refund.
Mrs. Bunnybasher told the customer that Starbucks cannot refund her money but she could present her with a coupon for a free drink (or two – I wasn’t really listening to the story). The customer demanded to speak to a manager. When she realized she was already doing so she demanded Mrs. Bunnybasher call the general manager.
Mrs. Bunnybasher not only called the general manager but the regional manager as well. She once again offered a coupon to the customer and reiterated she would not get her money back.
A long line of customers had formed at the counter behind this irate woman who spent quite a bit of time throwing disparaging remarks in Mrs. Bunnybasher's direction and needless to say, the crowd was growing weary of the woman’s antics. The woman wanted to know where Mrs. Bunnybasher lived. Um…whatever. Then she asked for the General Manager’s cell phone number. Whatever…again.
Finally, Mrs. Bunnybasher looked the woman in the eye and said “Look, you have two options: take the coupon or there’s the door…use it to get out of my store.” The woman walked toward the door as the line of customers applauded. She stopped at the door to inform Mrs. Bunnybasher that she is “so fired” and went on her way.
This was not the first time this woman tried to rip off Starbucks. The regional manager had reports from other stores where she had tried the same thing.
So what is it that drives people to do something like this? I mean, really…the woman only stood to get a refund of, like, five bucks.
My theory is that she hates Starbucks because it’s a “big box” coffee store. She probably hates Wal-Mart and Home Depot as well.
The next part of my theory is that she has no idea why she hates successful businesses.
Maybe this poor woman has struggled with authority and establishment issues as a juvenile. She probably views big business as a threat to her lifestyle. Maybe she feels like Starbucks has a hold on her…she’s addicted…like so many other Americans. Maybe her boyfriend broke up with her in a Starbucks or her parents left her in a Starbucks parking lot as a child. I can’t say what her problem is, for sure, but I do know that she has a problem. Starbucks is non-union and many of these bleeding hearts hate non-union businesses because everyone knows that if your company doesn’t have a union, you must be abusing your employees. Just like Wal-Mart.
I drink Starbucks coffee but not because I think it’s the most wonderful thing on the planet. I drink it because Folgers sucks and there’s a Starbucks on every corner in this town. Ok…I also think Starbucks tastes pretty darn good. Some people say there’s no difference between Starbucks and Folgers. They probably can’t taste the difference between chocolate mousse and a Jell-O pudding pack.
People criticize those that go to Starbucks because they spend $5 for a cup of coffee. Those people have obviously never been in a Starbucks. I spent $1.76 this morning for a 20-ounce cup of coffee. The drinks that cost more than that are not coffee…they are dessert in a cup. I can’t order those other drinks because I only speak English. I drink coffee…period. I don’t need foam or a domed lid and I don’t care what temperature it is as long as it’s hot. I usually purchase it by the pound and make my coffee at home, which reduces the price per ounce by a substantial amount.
Anyway, I could never work at a Starbucks.
I would have told the lady she had past the Starbucks 12 hour guarantee on drinks by 5 minutes and she wasn’t getting squat from the store. When she said she was dissatisfied with the drinks, I would have replied, “What a coincidence…we were dissatisfied with you as a customer”…”and we still are – could you please take your business elsewhere?”
I would stock coupons for a free can of Folgers and direct customers like that to the grocery store across the street.
Mrs. Bunnybasher has customers that order their coffee at a certain temperature, like, 96 degrees. I would just tell them “You’re in luck! We just happen to have a 96 degree pot of coffee brewing right now!” Or I would pour the coffee in a cup and stick my finger in it, “Yup, that’s 96 alright! Here ya go!”
It’s amazing that I’ve been working as a customer service liaison for as long as I have with this attitude.
Colorado Springs is apparently experiencing a “Starbucks Scam” that threatens to close the doors of the coffee giant. A woman entered the store where Mrs. Bunnybasher works. She was carrying two nearly empty Frappuccinos. The woman said she had purchased the drinks the night prior and was dissatisfied with them. She demanded a refund.
Mrs. Bunnybasher told the customer that Starbucks cannot refund her money but she could present her with a coupon for a free drink (or two – I wasn’t really listening to the story). The customer demanded to speak to a manager. When she realized she was already doing so she demanded Mrs. Bunnybasher call the general manager.
Mrs. Bunnybasher not only called the general manager but the regional manager as well. She once again offered a coupon to the customer and reiterated she would not get her money back.
A long line of customers had formed at the counter behind this irate woman who spent quite a bit of time throwing disparaging remarks in Mrs. Bunnybasher's direction and needless to say, the crowd was growing weary of the woman’s antics. The woman wanted to know where Mrs. Bunnybasher lived. Um…whatever. Then she asked for the General Manager’s cell phone number. Whatever…again.
Finally, Mrs. Bunnybasher looked the woman in the eye and said “Look, you have two options: take the coupon or there’s the door…use it to get out of my store.” The woman walked toward the door as the line of customers applauded. She stopped at the door to inform Mrs. Bunnybasher that she is “so fired” and went on her way.
This was not the first time this woman tried to rip off Starbucks. The regional manager had reports from other stores where she had tried the same thing.
So what is it that drives people to do something like this? I mean, really…the woman only stood to get a refund of, like, five bucks.
My theory is that she hates Starbucks because it’s a “big box” coffee store. She probably hates Wal-Mart and Home Depot as well.
The next part of my theory is that she has no idea why she hates successful businesses.
Maybe this poor woman has struggled with authority and establishment issues as a juvenile. She probably views big business as a threat to her lifestyle. Maybe she feels like Starbucks has a hold on her…she’s addicted…like so many other Americans. Maybe her boyfriend broke up with her in a Starbucks or her parents left her in a Starbucks parking lot as a child. I can’t say what her problem is, for sure, but I do know that she has a problem. Starbucks is non-union and many of these bleeding hearts hate non-union businesses because everyone knows that if your company doesn’t have a union, you must be abusing your employees. Just like Wal-Mart.
I drink Starbucks coffee but not because I think it’s the most wonderful thing on the planet. I drink it because Folgers sucks and there’s a Starbucks on every corner in this town. Ok…I also think Starbucks tastes pretty darn good. Some people say there’s no difference between Starbucks and Folgers. They probably can’t taste the difference between chocolate mousse and a Jell-O pudding pack.
People criticize those that go to Starbucks because they spend $5 for a cup of coffee. Those people have obviously never been in a Starbucks. I spent $1.76 this morning for a 20-ounce cup of coffee. The drinks that cost more than that are not coffee…they are dessert in a cup. I can’t order those other drinks because I only speak English. I drink coffee…period. I don’t need foam or a domed lid and I don’t care what temperature it is as long as it’s hot. I usually purchase it by the pound and make my coffee at home, which reduces the price per ounce by a substantial amount.
Anyway, I could never work at a Starbucks.
I would have told the lady she had past the Starbucks 12 hour guarantee on drinks by 5 minutes and she wasn’t getting squat from the store. When she said she was dissatisfied with the drinks, I would have replied, “What a coincidence…we were dissatisfied with you as a customer”…”and we still are – could you please take your business elsewhere?”
I would stock coupons for a free can of Folgers and direct customers like that to the grocery store across the street.
Mrs. Bunnybasher has customers that order their coffee at a certain temperature, like, 96 degrees. I would just tell them “You’re in luck! We just happen to have a 96 degree pot of coffee brewing right now!” Or I would pour the coffee in a cup and stick my finger in it, “Yup, that’s 96 alright! Here ya go!”
It’s amazing that I’ve been working as a customer service liaison for as long as I have with this attitude.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
I was watching Jimmy Neutron and it hit me that this kid has a great future because he knows stuff.
I know stuff.
My problem is that I’m not sure how to apply the stuff I know leaving me with the dilemma that I’ll be retiring from the military soon and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
The stuff I know is kind of random and I’m unaware of any job that requires random knowledge of stuff so I guess I’m left with needing another career. I mean, I could do what Alex Trebek does but I actually KNOW stuff without having to read the card with the answers. Besides, Alex already has that job.
Is the Wheel of Fortune still on? I rock at that game. I’ll bet I could earn a butt load of money in one episode…unless I choke under the pressure…maybe we can film from my living room because I always did great from my recliner. I’m not sure if I want to look at Vannah White though…isn’t she, like, 70?
I wonder if I can make a living reading. I currently have five books started and none finished - with the exception of the Uncle John’s Bathroom reader, which I (sadly) finished this past weekend.
One of the books I’m currently scanning is “How to Reach the Heart of Your Teen”.
I’m thinking…”Through the chest would be fastest” but there are so many other options. You can shove your fist down their throat or tear it out through their rectum. The possibilities are nearly endless but I hardly think we need a book on it.
I should write a book.
Our church library closed because no one was really using it. They decided to sell the books so I charged right over there to see what was up for grabs. I was late and the selection was slim. I browsed what was left of the collection and realized that our culture is riddled with lame literary works. What I don’t understand is that some of these authors got big box publishers to back them when I can’t get Reader’s Digest to return my calls...maybe I have the wrong number… nah, it’s the right number. I know it is. I met a girl years ago when I was still in the dating scene and when I called the number she gave me it was Reader’s Digest. I’m not sure why she gave me her work number…
So in the church library I pulled a book of “humor” from the shelf and took it home. I’m in the third chapter and I still haven’t read anything humorous. The author is a woman who tries to emulate Erma Bombeck but fails miserably. I would give you the title of the book but I don’t want to drag anyone’s name through the mud. Besides, some of you might actually think she’s funny…in which case; I have no idea why you would be reading my blog. Her book is to humor what Taco Bell is to Mexican food.
Let me put it like this:
Many people who eat at Taco Bell think they are experiencing some sort of ethnic cuisine and would probably gag on authentic south-of-the-border cooking. The thing is, Taco Bell is the same 8 ingredients presented in different formats.
Look; if you put ground beef, cheese, and lettuce in a taco shell you have a “taco” – add tomatoes and sour cream and it’s a taco “supreme” – change the shell to a flour tortilla and it’s a “soft taco supreme” – put it all in a larger flour tortilla and add beans to get a “burrito supreme”. Grind up a Chihuahua into the mix and it’s a Korean style Cagogi taco. You get the gist…
Something else that yanks my funny bone is the fact that they actually have test markets for this stuff. The thing is; they never tell you that you’re a test market. If you travel around the country, you look like an idiot at the drive through in Des Moines when you order a carne asada Guanajuato style chalupaco because Taco Bell only serves those in Colorado Springs until Novenmber. I’m sure the execs at Taco Bell really yuk it up over that one. Thanks, guys…go ahead and make fun of your customers while you rake in your six figures per year.
There’s an idea for a career. I can make fun of people. I’m good at making fun of people and it really doesn’t matter if they like it or not – I can convince them that they like it, after all, Taco Bell has convinced a nation that they serve Mexican food and certain authors have convinced publishers that they’re funny.
Even if I do start a career making fun of people, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know what to do with the stuff I know.
It just seems like such a waste to know all this stuff and not use it.
I take comfort in that Jimmy Neutron is a cartoon and will probably not pass me on the ladder of societal success…but at the same time…I was watching Jimmy Neutron.
I know stuff.
My problem is that I’m not sure how to apply the stuff I know leaving me with the dilemma that I’ll be retiring from the military soon and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
The stuff I know is kind of random and I’m unaware of any job that requires random knowledge of stuff so I guess I’m left with needing another career. I mean, I could do what Alex Trebek does but I actually KNOW stuff without having to read the card with the answers. Besides, Alex already has that job.
Is the Wheel of Fortune still on? I rock at that game. I’ll bet I could earn a butt load of money in one episode…unless I choke under the pressure…maybe we can film from my living room because I always did great from my recliner. I’m not sure if I want to look at Vannah White though…isn’t she, like, 70?
I wonder if I can make a living reading. I currently have five books started and none finished - with the exception of the Uncle John’s Bathroom reader, which I (sadly) finished this past weekend.
One of the books I’m currently scanning is “How to Reach the Heart of Your Teen”.
I’m thinking…”Through the chest would be fastest” but there are so many other options. You can shove your fist down their throat or tear it out through their rectum. The possibilities are nearly endless but I hardly think we need a book on it.
I should write a book.
Our church library closed because no one was really using it. They decided to sell the books so I charged right over there to see what was up for grabs. I was late and the selection was slim. I browsed what was left of the collection and realized that our culture is riddled with lame literary works. What I don’t understand is that some of these authors got big box publishers to back them when I can’t get Reader’s Digest to return my calls...maybe I have the wrong number… nah, it’s the right number. I know it is. I met a girl years ago when I was still in the dating scene and when I called the number she gave me it was Reader’s Digest. I’m not sure why she gave me her work number…
So in the church library I pulled a book of “humor” from the shelf and took it home. I’m in the third chapter and I still haven’t read anything humorous. The author is a woman who tries to emulate Erma Bombeck but fails miserably. I would give you the title of the book but I don’t want to drag anyone’s name through the mud. Besides, some of you might actually think she’s funny…in which case; I have no idea why you would be reading my blog. Her book is to humor what Taco Bell is to Mexican food.
Let me put it like this:
Many people who eat at Taco Bell think they are experiencing some sort of ethnic cuisine and would probably gag on authentic south-of-the-border cooking. The thing is, Taco Bell is the same 8 ingredients presented in different formats.
Look; if you put ground beef, cheese, and lettuce in a taco shell you have a “taco” – add tomatoes and sour cream and it’s a taco “supreme” – change the shell to a flour tortilla and it’s a “soft taco supreme” – put it all in a larger flour tortilla and add beans to get a “burrito supreme”. Grind up a Chihuahua into the mix and it’s a Korean style Cagogi taco. You get the gist…
Something else that yanks my funny bone is the fact that they actually have test markets for this stuff. The thing is; they never tell you that you’re a test market. If you travel around the country, you look like an idiot at the drive through in Des Moines when you order a carne asada Guanajuato style chalupaco because Taco Bell only serves those in Colorado Springs until Novenmber. I’m sure the execs at Taco Bell really yuk it up over that one. Thanks, guys…go ahead and make fun of your customers while you rake in your six figures per year.
There’s an idea for a career. I can make fun of people. I’m good at making fun of people and it really doesn’t matter if they like it or not – I can convince them that they like it, after all, Taco Bell has convinced a nation that they serve Mexican food and certain authors have convinced publishers that they’re funny.
Even if I do start a career making fun of people, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know what to do with the stuff I know.
It just seems like such a waste to know all this stuff and not use it.
I take comfort in that Jimmy Neutron is a cartoon and will probably not pass me on the ladder of societal success…but at the same time…I was watching Jimmy Neutron.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Props to the guys that worked all night on the I25 corridor through Colorado Springs!
Dudes, even though I’m sure you got paid time and a half for working at night bringing your income to nearly six figures for the year, I totally appreciate the money you saved me by not having to replace my tires or transmission after hitting one of the craters that riddled that particular stretch of highway.
Up until last night, that road sucked! People had to slow down below the speed limit in order to stay in their lane while rounding a curve because there wasn’t enough pavement left to maintain traction.
My question is: What took so long?
I guess I shouldn’t complain because the road is now as smooth as Ex-Lax. Mrs. Muzikdude and I cheered aloud as we glided across the new asphalt. We honked our horn at the workers and yelled accolades from our vehicle as we passed. I’m sure the road will meet with that reaction for quite some time as locals get used to the pampering.
Dudes, even though I’m sure you got paid time and a half for working at night bringing your income to nearly six figures for the year, I totally appreciate the money you saved me by not having to replace my tires or transmission after hitting one of the craters that riddled that particular stretch of highway.
Up until last night, that road sucked! People had to slow down below the speed limit in order to stay in their lane while rounding a curve because there wasn’t enough pavement left to maintain traction.
My question is: What took so long?
I guess I shouldn’t complain because the road is now as smooth as Ex-Lax. Mrs. Muzikdude and I cheered aloud as we glided across the new asphalt. We honked our horn at the workers and yelled accolades from our vehicle as we passed. I’m sure the road will meet with that reaction for quite some time as locals get used to the pampering.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
I park under a large tree.
I like the fact that my car is shaded from the sun enabling me to climb in and drive away without searing my hands or having to remove a cumbersome piece of cardboard from the windshield but there are definite drawbacks to my parking space.
Birds party on my hood.
Birds also party on my windshield and door handles. Not only do they party, they party until they apparently explode leaving a messy white puddle with specks of seeds and berries. It’s like Hitchcock meets Monty Python. The mess is sometimes bad enough that it makes people gag in the vehicles next to me.
Why do I bring this up?
Tonight, when I return home from work, I am going to return the favor by filling the bird’s nest with my own droppings.
This is a war I know I can win.
I like the fact that my car is shaded from the sun enabling me to climb in and drive away without searing my hands or having to remove a cumbersome piece of cardboard from the windshield but there are definite drawbacks to my parking space.
Birds party on my hood.
Birds also party on my windshield and door handles. Not only do they party, they party until they apparently explode leaving a messy white puddle with specks of seeds and berries. It’s like Hitchcock meets Monty Python. The mess is sometimes bad enough that it makes people gag in the vehicles next to me.
Why do I bring this up?
Tonight, when I return home from work, I am going to return the favor by filling the bird’s nest with my own droppings.
This is a war I know I can win.
Monday, September 12, 2005
I’m cultured.
Getting to this point was a long and painful journey wrought with embarrassment and disgust.
There was a day when my appreciation for art went no deeper than the contemplation of the mysterious grin that adorned the face of Alfred E. Newman.
Years went by where I didn’t know the difference between a bidet and a drinking fountain. Those that used the bidet after me were none-the-wiser but those who followed me at the drinking fountain…well…let’s just say, no one followed me at the drinking fountain. However, those days have passed like morning flatulence for I am now a man of substance.
I like ballet, plays, and symphonies but there remains a part of me that holds onto my past. I cannot get over what the London Philharmonic Orchestra has done to the music of Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Yes, and Jethro Tull. Somebody, please, just stick a fork in my eye. I know these “works” are nothing new but as I was searching iTunes for “When the Levee Breaks” by Led Zeppelin, all I could find was the muzak version played by a bunch of Brits in folding metal chairs. ‘Scuse me, but that song is supposed to be played while jumping around the stage and I hardly think some fat guy with a cello will be able to do that.
So maybe I still need to buy into this whole “refinement of the species” thing...
I'm just sayin...
Getting to this point was a long and painful journey wrought with embarrassment and disgust.
There was a day when my appreciation for art went no deeper than the contemplation of the mysterious grin that adorned the face of Alfred E. Newman.
Years went by where I didn’t know the difference between a bidet and a drinking fountain. Those that used the bidet after me were none-the-wiser but those who followed me at the drinking fountain…well…let’s just say, no one followed me at the drinking fountain. However, those days have passed like morning flatulence for I am now a man of substance.
I like ballet, plays, and symphonies but there remains a part of me that holds onto my past. I cannot get over what the London Philharmonic Orchestra has done to the music of Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Yes, and Jethro Tull. Somebody, please, just stick a fork in my eye. I know these “works” are nothing new but as I was searching iTunes for “When the Levee Breaks” by Led Zeppelin, all I could find was the muzak version played by a bunch of Brits in folding metal chairs. ‘Scuse me, but that song is supposed to be played while jumping around the stage and I hardly think some fat guy with a cello will be able to do that.
So maybe I still need to buy into this whole “refinement of the species” thing...
I'm just sayin...
Friday, September 09, 2005
Some have noticed that I've slowed down on my blogging.
A friend decided to help with this pamphlet from the nonist.
Thanks, but my circumstances are of a completely different nature.
A friend decided to help with this pamphlet from the nonist.
Thanks, but my circumstances are of a completely different nature.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
I guess I’ll spend a bit more time on my gas price soapbox.
America really doesn’t spend much on a gallon of gas compared to the rest of the civilized world. Countries such as the Netherlands are paying $6.48 per gallon. Their unemployment rate is 6% compared to the US rate of 5% and their GDP per capita is $30,000 compared to $40,000 in America. (data compiled from CNN and the CIA World Factbook)
I will complain, nonetheless.
The current price of fossil fuel has caused me to make some minor lifestyle changes. I’m already preparing my “will work for fuel” sign in anticipation of having to sell my house and belongings so I can afford to continue driving to work…in order to pay for my gas…to drive to work…
What really snaps my thong is that I've considered a second job to help pay the fuel bill but I'm not sure I can afford the gas to get there.
I’ve begun the process of shopping for sheep as I feel it may be cheaper than purchasing fuel for my lawnmower. I’m still checking into the zoning for my neighborhood.
As I type this, I am waiting for a return call from the loan officer at my bank. I need to put some gas in my car so I can get home tonight. I fear that last week’s tank of gas may have substantially lowered my credit score. I’ll have to wait and see.
Speaking of work…I live ten miles from my office. I don’t live or work within the city limits so there is no public transportation system in the area. This means that, while the oil companies play their silly little gouging game, I have the option of walking 20 miles per day. While I’m sure this will make my already great butt even firmer and sexier, I’m still considering the use of my roadside assistance to have my car towed to work everyday. At least it's free.
Good times.
Now, it’s fairly common knowledge that on the road of politics I tend to pull to the right but I’m not a die hard supporter of W. I like him because he’s personable and he’d be great to play a round of golf with but he makes some pretty strange decisions. Some people act as if George W is running the country single-handedly without any form of checks and balances and under no advisement. These people would have you believe that we are living under a dictatorship. This is because they can’t control their emotions causing their inability to separate true political analysis from personal opinion and speculation.
I am not one of those people.
George has advisors. These advisors influence W’s decisions causing him to do idiotic things such as releasing oil from our reserves to offset the price of fuel. What moron whispered this nonsense in the ear of the president?
“Hey George…if we tell the people that we are releasing crude oil from the reserves, they will believe prices are going to drop and they’ll quit whining.”
…and what caused the president to think releasing the oil would do any good?
He’s an oilman and didn’t realize that the oil companies’ excuse for gouging lies in the fact that their refineries were down during the hurricane. What the hell is more crude oil going to do for the price of gas if we can’t refine it? Lowering the price per barrel will not directly effect the price per gallon any time in the near future.
Morons and crooks - all of them.
(Tangent #1)
Last night was a late night.
I just took a break to use the restroom.
My urine smells like coffee.
Weird.
(We now return to our scheduled program.)
The thing that upsets the people of America about the Bush administration is that our intelligence is repeatedly insulted by the actions of our government. The key word here is “government”. The Bush administration is a group of idiots, not a single moron. It’s a collective effort to pull the proverbial wool over the eyes of the American public. Congress is no better. They’re all in cahoots.
(Tangent #2)
Is it just me or did the hurricane scenario play out something like this:
“New Orleans is under water!!!!’
“Did we save the rich people?”
“Yeah…but there are a bunch of less fortunate left behind”
“Let’s give them a few days…it’s easier to bury bodies than it is to relocate families…
besides no one wants more homeless people in their city”
“Let’s give them to Texas…Texas needs an image boost”
“I love practical thinking”
(end tangent)
Anyway, big business in America is having their way with us because our Constitution gives them the right to do so. This is the country in which we live. It’s the country that we praise when everything is going our way and the one we damn when times get tough.
*America the Beautiful plays quietly in the background*
Our country is not about George Bush, war, and fuel prices…our country is about you and me.
Come on…Sing with me:
“This land is your land…this land is my land…from Colorado [sic], to the New York Islands…”
*fade music*
For those of you that like to read trivial nonsense while sitting on the can I’ve attached a nifty little table to make you feel better about having to pimp your spouse and children for a tank of gas:
There…now don’t you feel better? I’ll bet the relief of taking a dump in conjunction with reading this table just made your week. Talk about total and lasting relief of all life’s pressures…it’s like having the weight of the world lifted from your soul.
Don’t forget to wipe.
*Cue - America the Beautiful again*
Look, people, life is a crap sandwich and we all have to take a bite so why not put some butter on the bread and toss it on a griddle? These days are not for the weak of heart…so let’s pull together and eat our lunch like a group of grown ups! Sure, it stinks and there is a definite texture issue but this is life and no one should have to eat alone. Are you with me, America? Come on...let’s see what’s for dessert!
*close with a round of Kumbaya*
*Fade to black*
*go to lunch*
America really doesn’t spend much on a gallon of gas compared to the rest of the civilized world. Countries such as the Netherlands are paying $6.48 per gallon. Their unemployment rate is 6% compared to the US rate of 5% and their GDP per capita is $30,000 compared to $40,000 in America. (data compiled from CNN and the CIA World Factbook)
I will complain, nonetheless.
The current price of fossil fuel has caused me to make some minor lifestyle changes. I’m already preparing my “will work for fuel” sign in anticipation of having to sell my house and belongings so I can afford to continue driving to work…in order to pay for my gas…to drive to work…
What really snaps my thong is that I've considered a second job to help pay the fuel bill but I'm not sure I can afford the gas to get there.
I’ve begun the process of shopping for sheep as I feel it may be cheaper than purchasing fuel for my lawnmower. I’m still checking into the zoning for my neighborhood.
As I type this, I am waiting for a return call from the loan officer at my bank. I need to put some gas in my car so I can get home tonight. I fear that last week’s tank of gas may have substantially lowered my credit score. I’ll have to wait and see.
Speaking of work…I live ten miles from my office. I don’t live or work within the city limits so there is no public transportation system in the area. This means that, while the oil companies play their silly little gouging game, I have the option of walking 20 miles per day. While I’m sure this will make my already great butt even firmer and sexier, I’m still considering the use of my roadside assistance to have my car towed to work everyday. At least it's free.
Good times.
Now, it’s fairly common knowledge that on the road of politics I tend to pull to the right but I’m not a die hard supporter of W. I like him because he’s personable and he’d be great to play a round of golf with but he makes some pretty strange decisions. Some people act as if George W is running the country single-handedly without any form of checks and balances and under no advisement. These people would have you believe that we are living under a dictatorship. This is because they can’t control their emotions causing their inability to separate true political analysis from personal opinion and speculation.
I am not one of those people.
George has advisors. These advisors influence W’s decisions causing him to do idiotic things such as releasing oil from our reserves to offset the price of fuel. What moron whispered this nonsense in the ear of the president?
“Hey George…if we tell the people that we are releasing crude oil from the reserves, they will believe prices are going to drop and they’ll quit whining.”
…and what caused the president to think releasing the oil would do any good?
He’s an oilman and didn’t realize that the oil companies’ excuse for gouging lies in the fact that their refineries were down during the hurricane. What the hell is more crude oil going to do for the price of gas if we can’t refine it? Lowering the price per barrel will not directly effect the price per gallon any time in the near future.
Morons and crooks - all of them.
(Tangent #1)
Last night was a late night.
I just took a break to use the restroom.
My urine smells like coffee.
Weird.
(We now return to our scheduled program.)
The thing that upsets the people of America about the Bush administration is that our intelligence is repeatedly insulted by the actions of our government. The key word here is “government”. The Bush administration is a group of idiots, not a single moron. It’s a collective effort to pull the proverbial wool over the eyes of the American public. Congress is no better. They’re all in cahoots.
(Tangent #2)
Is it just me or did the hurricane scenario play out something like this:
“New Orleans is under water!!!!’
“Did we save the rich people?”
“Yeah…but there are a bunch of less fortunate left behind”
“Let’s give them a few days…it’s easier to bury bodies than it is to relocate families…
besides no one wants more homeless people in their city”
“Let’s give them to Texas…Texas needs an image boost”
“I love practical thinking”
(end tangent)
Anyway, big business in America is having their way with us because our Constitution gives them the right to do so. This is the country in which we live. It’s the country that we praise when everything is going our way and the one we damn when times get tough.
*America the Beautiful plays quietly in the background*
Our country is not about George Bush, war, and fuel prices…our country is about you and me.
Come on…Sing with me:
“This land is your land…this land is my land…from Colorado [sic], to the New York Islands…”
*fade music*
For those of you that like to read trivial nonsense while sitting on the can I’ve attached a nifty little table to make you feel better about having to pimp your spouse and children for a tank of gas:
There…now don’t you feel better? I’ll bet the relief of taking a dump in conjunction with reading this table just made your week. Talk about total and lasting relief of all life’s pressures…it’s like having the weight of the world lifted from your soul.
Don’t forget to wipe.
*Cue - America the Beautiful again*
Look, people, life is a crap sandwich and we all have to take a bite so why not put some butter on the bread and toss it on a griddle? These days are not for the weak of heart…so let’s pull together and eat our lunch like a group of grown ups! Sure, it stinks and there is a definite texture issue but this is life and no one should have to eat alone. Are you with me, America? Come on...let’s see what’s for dessert!
*close with a round of Kumbaya*
*Fade to black*
*go to lunch*
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
I am the noticer of things.
I notice great things, incidentally.
The only thing I seem to miss is the length or color of Mrs. Muzikdude's hair. Next to our anniversary and her birthday, the hair is probably the most important thing for me to notice and after nearly 20 years, I still haven't seemed to figure out how to pick up on cosmetological details. I contend that her radiant beauty binds my senses to her overall essence causing the minor changes to be lost in the whirlwind of passion that tugs at my soul on a daily basis. She aint buyin, besides, that's a different post.
One of the things that I’ve noticed lately is how people seem to be driving much faster now that the price of gasoline has gone up. Maybe it’s my perception since I’ve reduced my average speed by 5 mph or so but even though I still drive at, or barely above, the posted speed limit I am constantly being tailgated and passed by impatient and angry drivers. Did everyone get an increase in their income that I don’t know about? I feel like I’m the only one that can’t afford to drive anymore. Did I miss a nationwide pay increase?
Something else I’ve noticed is that I drive my beater car more often than my SUV. My beater is an old Subaru wagon that actually runs very well and gets 26 mpg. The only thing wrong with the car is that it’s missing a muffler but it wasn’t obnoxiously loud until the rest of the exhaust system fell off this weekend while I was driving 60mph down the interstate. The finer points of this event hadn’t evaded my keen attention to detail because the exhaust system didn’t fall all the way off but hung from the bottom of the car and dragged along the ground making a horrendous noise.
I was late for an important meeting.
Therefore, I continued to drive down the freeway hoping the pipe would eventually wear itself loose and become yet another scrap of highway debris. My only concern was for the vehicle closing in behind me but my fear for his safety faded as he began to tailgate. I even found myself hoping the exhaust would disengage from my vehicle and lodge itself in his…um…oil pan.
It’s probably best that the pipe held on.
I reached my destination and surveyed the damage beneath my vehicle. I was shocked to find that the front of the system was dragging on the ground rather than the back of the system as I had imagined. Unbeknownst to me, I was a potential pole vault as I barreled down the road. Luckily, I hadn’t come across any major potholes on my journey.
The exhaust was dangling from a rubber exhaust hanger so I pulled out my knife, cut it loose, and tossed it into the back of the car.
My car sounds like a beast and I’m tempted to drive as if I was in a muscle car but I’ve been able to refrain thus far. The only time I exceed the speed limit by any significant amount is when I need to find a rest room.
Occasionally, this situation can border a medical emergency depending on my current dietary intake.
We’ve all been there…an extra bowl of raisin bran in the morning and you find yourself pushing 90 mph down the freeway looking for anything that resembles a porcelain bowl. By the time you reach the point where a secluded patch of foliage will suffice you are traveling at a reckless and death defying rate of speed.
I recently experienced something similar to this. It was one of those “I gotta go NOW” moments where even the slightest bump in the road caused agony. I tried to take my mind off the discomfort but it seemed that everything brought my attention back to my dilemma. After all, I am the noticer of things. My mind found a way to relate everything to my predicament; Brown state park signs, cornfields, big brown Cadillacs, etc…
But the one thing that really put me over the edge was the freight train. It was one of those really long ones that had two locomotives in the center for extra power. The train was moving slowly but fluidly and all the cars were brown. The fact that the train was exiting a tunnel was more than I could bear and I found myself in a mad dash for the first rest area I could find. At that moment, I was a speed demon, just like all those I criticize.
Yeah, I sometimes have an excuse for exceeding the speed limit but I highly doubt that everyone on the road, while possibly full of crap, is actually experiencing the gut-wrenching gurgle that involuntarily forces the gas pedal to the floor.
I’m just sayin.
I notice things.
I notice great things, incidentally.
The only thing I seem to miss is the length or color of Mrs. Muzikdude's hair. Next to our anniversary and her birthday, the hair is probably the most important thing for me to notice and after nearly 20 years, I still haven't seemed to figure out how to pick up on cosmetological details. I contend that her radiant beauty binds my senses to her overall essence causing the minor changes to be lost in the whirlwind of passion that tugs at my soul on a daily basis. She aint buyin, besides, that's a different post.
One of the things that I’ve noticed lately is how people seem to be driving much faster now that the price of gasoline has gone up. Maybe it’s my perception since I’ve reduced my average speed by 5 mph or so but even though I still drive at, or barely above, the posted speed limit I am constantly being tailgated and passed by impatient and angry drivers. Did everyone get an increase in their income that I don’t know about? I feel like I’m the only one that can’t afford to drive anymore. Did I miss a nationwide pay increase?
Something else I’ve noticed is that I drive my beater car more often than my SUV. My beater is an old Subaru wagon that actually runs very well and gets 26 mpg. The only thing wrong with the car is that it’s missing a muffler but it wasn’t obnoxiously loud until the rest of the exhaust system fell off this weekend while I was driving 60mph down the interstate. The finer points of this event hadn’t evaded my keen attention to detail because the exhaust system didn’t fall all the way off but hung from the bottom of the car and dragged along the ground making a horrendous noise.
I was late for an important meeting.
Therefore, I continued to drive down the freeway hoping the pipe would eventually wear itself loose and become yet another scrap of highway debris. My only concern was for the vehicle closing in behind me but my fear for his safety faded as he began to tailgate. I even found myself hoping the exhaust would disengage from my vehicle and lodge itself in his…um…oil pan.
It’s probably best that the pipe held on.
I reached my destination and surveyed the damage beneath my vehicle. I was shocked to find that the front of the system was dragging on the ground rather than the back of the system as I had imagined. Unbeknownst to me, I was a potential pole vault as I barreled down the road. Luckily, I hadn’t come across any major potholes on my journey.
The exhaust was dangling from a rubber exhaust hanger so I pulled out my knife, cut it loose, and tossed it into the back of the car.
My car sounds like a beast and I’m tempted to drive as if I was in a muscle car but I’ve been able to refrain thus far. The only time I exceed the speed limit by any significant amount is when I need to find a rest room.
Occasionally, this situation can border a medical emergency depending on my current dietary intake.
We’ve all been there…an extra bowl of raisin bran in the morning and you find yourself pushing 90 mph down the freeway looking for anything that resembles a porcelain bowl. By the time you reach the point where a secluded patch of foliage will suffice you are traveling at a reckless and death defying rate of speed.
I recently experienced something similar to this. It was one of those “I gotta go NOW” moments where even the slightest bump in the road caused agony. I tried to take my mind off the discomfort but it seemed that everything brought my attention back to my dilemma. After all, I am the noticer of things. My mind found a way to relate everything to my predicament; Brown state park signs, cornfields, big brown Cadillacs, etc…
But the one thing that really put me over the edge was the freight train. It was one of those really long ones that had two locomotives in the center for extra power. The train was moving slowly but fluidly and all the cars were brown. The fact that the train was exiting a tunnel was more than I could bear and I found myself in a mad dash for the first rest area I could find. At that moment, I was a speed demon, just like all those I criticize.
Yeah, I sometimes have an excuse for exceeding the speed limit but I highly doubt that everyone on the road, while possibly full of crap, is actually experiencing the gut-wrenching gurgle that involuntarily forces the gas pedal to the floor.
I’m just sayin.
I notice things.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Mr. Duckslayer works for MCI (which, incidentally, has me wondering why I'm wrestling with Cingular rather than being offered free cell service from a friend).
Anyway, I just recieved this from him via email.
MCI LAUNCHES TOLL FREE SERVICE TO REUNITE LOVED ONES IMPACTED BY HURRICANE KATRINA
To assist those displaced and separated from loved ones by the effects of Hurricane Katrina, MCI has introduced a simple, toll-free phone service to help those impacted by the storm communicate their conditions and whereabouts to family and friends by simply using their 10 digit home phone number as an identifier.
The service allows displaced people and those attempting to locate the missing to connect through a toll-free phone number. The caller can choose to either:
Register themselves by calling 1-877-HELP-KAT (1-877-435-7528) or
Locate someone who is missing by calling 1-866-601-FIND (1-866-601-3463).
Registration function:
Those impacted will be prompted for their home phone number, month, day and year of birth (for individual identification) and a callback number where they can be reached. The service will notify the caller if they are the first to register the number or if someone else has already done so. If others have registered the number, the earlier registrant’s month, day and year of birth as well as callback number will be replayed, giving the caller the option to connect automatically to them.
The registrant will also be told if someone has previously searched for their number and will give them that caller’s birth month, day and year in addition to callback information with an option to connect.
Even if those displaced do not have a callback number to be reached at, they should still call and register because it will give their loved ones the basic peace of mind that they are alive. Impacted persons will be able to update their registration information with callback numbers when they become known.
For any 10-digit primary home phone number, up to nine callback numbers and birth month, day and year can be registered to accommodate alternate contact numbers and multiple family members.
Locator function:
Caller is prompted for home phone number of lost one.
Lost one’s callback number and birth month, day and year are played back.
The caller can then automatically connect to the lost one’s callback number.
The service will also notify the caller if the number they searched for has not yet been registered and allow them to enter their birth month, day and year and callback number to be replayed when and if the missing person’s phone number is registered.
The service supports English, French and Spanish and is limited to U.S. geographic customers only. This service is available to everyone, not just MCI customers.
Anyway, I just recieved this from him via email.
MCI LAUNCHES TOLL FREE SERVICE TO REUNITE LOVED ONES IMPACTED BY HURRICANE KATRINA
To assist those displaced and separated from loved ones by the effects of Hurricane Katrina, MCI has introduced a simple, toll-free phone service to help those impacted by the storm communicate their conditions and whereabouts to family and friends by simply using their 10 digit home phone number as an identifier.
The service allows displaced people and those attempting to locate the missing to connect through a toll-free phone number. The caller can choose to either:
Register themselves by calling 1-877-HELP-KAT (1-877-435-7528) or
Locate someone who is missing by calling 1-866-601-FIND (1-866-601-3463).
Registration function:
Those impacted will be prompted for their home phone number, month, day and year of birth (for individual identification) and a callback number where they can be reached. The service will notify the caller if they are the first to register the number or if someone else has already done so. If others have registered the number, the earlier registrant’s month, day and year of birth as well as callback number will be replayed, giving the caller the option to connect automatically to them.
The registrant will also be told if someone has previously searched for their number and will give them that caller’s birth month, day and year in addition to callback information with an option to connect.
Even if those displaced do not have a callback number to be reached at, they should still call and register because it will give their loved ones the basic peace of mind that they are alive. Impacted persons will be able to update their registration information with callback numbers when they become known.
For any 10-digit primary home phone number, up to nine callback numbers and birth month, day and year can be registered to accommodate alternate contact numbers and multiple family members.
Locator function:
Caller is prompted for home phone number of lost one.
Lost one’s callback number and birth month, day and year are played back.
The caller can then automatically connect to the lost one’s callback number.
The service will also notify the caller if the number they searched for has not yet been registered and allow them to enter their birth month, day and year and callback number to be replayed when and if the missing person’s phone number is registered.
The service supports English, French and Spanish and is limited to U.S. geographic customers only. This service is available to everyone, not just MCI customers.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
My Friend Mr. Duckslayer is joining the Race for the Cure this weekend.
We’re all a bit worried because we live at 6,000+ feet above sea level and he is no longer a young man. That is not to say he doesn’t keep in shape but we hope his “Race for the Cure” doesn’t turn into a “Flight for Life”.
He informed us that he plans to walk instead of run. Wise move. Maybe he isn’t having a mid-life crisis after all but the fact remains that he’ll be “Sweating for the Cure”, “Panting for the Cure” and possibly “Collapsing for the Cure”. Mr. Duckslayer may be the one needing a cure by the end of the race.
You know what they say: “It’s all fun and games ‘till someone breaks a hip.”
We’re all a bit worried because we live at 6,000+ feet above sea level and he is no longer a young man. That is not to say he doesn’t keep in shape but we hope his “Race for the Cure” doesn’t turn into a “Flight for Life”.
He informed us that he plans to walk instead of run. Wise move. Maybe he isn’t having a mid-life crisis after all but the fact remains that he’ll be “Sweating for the Cure”, “Panting for the Cure” and possibly “Collapsing for the Cure”. Mr. Duckslayer may be the one needing a cure by the end of the race.
You know what they say: “It’s all fun and games ‘till someone breaks a hip.”
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