Take Advantage of the Recession

According to this article you can take advantage of the recession by stealing away with a hot car bargain. It's a Yahoo! News article which I always enjoy because they are usually funny despite their obvious seriousness. This particular article wants to help out the car buyer looking for a good deal in an obviously battered auto market. The first suggestion? The Audi A8 which normally goes for $122,000.00. According to the article you might be able to land this for, well, actually, the writer doesn't know but he (or she) suggests don't over haggle it (I guess start at $110,000.00 and get ready to haggle from there). Other suggestions from the article were for a Lincoln Town Car at $53,000.00 and a $46,000.00 Cadillac (I guess buying the top-end vehicle from near bankrupt companies is now the "in" thing to do). You could even get some leverage on the dealer of a Hummer H2 (starting price around $63,000.00) but, again, as the article urges don't get greedy. Sure your house might be worth less than half of what you paid for it and your taxes will be paying directly into the car industry for the next ten years but that is no reason to think that you should get an insane deal on something that is worth twenty percent less the moment you drive it off the lot. Of course, the article might be envisioning a near future where our houses are so worthless we might have to live in our cars. Sure, that is a highly pessimistic future but that considered I guess its a pretty good article after all.

I Might Have Over Used YouTube

I love America's Got Talent. It is by far my favorite show but it causes me to go absolutely crazy on YouTube. I waste a lot of time (and drink way too much) looking back on the many super-talented "what might have beens". Of course, this year, Kevin Skinner is the big thing. I like Kevin more than I liked Eli last year and--by God damnit!--I loved Eli last year! Kevin just was so amazing I actually googled "chicken catcher" more than five times over the two days after I watched him. Before that, I imagine I googled that like once, maybe twice, over the previous year. I know that sounds weird but my dad had an impromptu foster rooster living in his back yard last spring and I thought I could catch it but, well, I'm not nearly as fast, even with the Internet, as a local dog and so the problem took care of itself way before I could build my elaborate chicken catching trap. Anyway, back to my point. I was searching "If Tomorrow Never Comes" on YouTube and I found this guy and I thought he was just awesome. Take a hear here:





That is John Rainey and he is friggin' awesome! And he can sing Elvis even better. Is he better than Kevin Skinner, the guy that has a good chance (if he stops being so nervous) of winning America's Got Talent? I don't know. But he is good and he is what I found when I spent too much time browsing around YouTube.

Screech in News

I'll admit I watched more than my fair share of Saved by the Bell but I was nowhere close to being a fan. My sisters were fans and as I result I had to watch it or nothing else since my sisters had complete control of the TV. I cared very little for it at the time but I did like the pretty girls. But I still hated the show and it was mainly because of Screech's voice. It was the single most annoying sound my ears had ever heard. When he spoke I immediately thought of icepicks....icepicks bludgeoning out my ears. And the icepicks were the good thing because that was what I wanted in order to, as I said, bludgeon out my ears. Anyway, funny thing is that Screech, or Dustin Diamond (really? is that his name?) is back in the news and because of that I found this photo:

That is Screech now. And I thought his voice was freaky. Pixar could not better animate a live action character that is quite obviously an animated live action character than that. His cheeks are so rosy and tight they nearly pop off his face like little cherries and his chin is easily a full hand length from his bottom lip!! And his lips are scary because they only seem to be there too frame his freakishly large and shiny top teeth. No bottom teeth shown there at all. Whooga! Still, he maintains the Screech hair which leads me to believe he is still Screech although I still think he is some sort of clone sent down from aliens to take over the world. Now I shall sit in wait for Jaleel White to turn up in the news.

Cars For Cash

So the cars for cash program is going broke...lovely. I only thought of that about seven years ago and in that vision I had it going horrendously broke as well. Hold on...I'm fidgeting through papers on my office floor..it'll be a moment....Sorry, I was looking for a quote Iwrote about this but I couldn't find it. The best I found was this, which I rather like:

His name was Ed Meese. He had been the only night janitor in the National Archives building for nearly thirty years. When he first took the job there were three night janitors in the building but Ed was born from a father from Beijing and a mother who was the last full blooded Cherokee Indian. Both of them told him to be happy that nobody was trying to kill him right now and because of that he should work his ass off. And so Ed worked his ass off. From the very first day on the job he worked so hard that his manager immediately fired the other two persons on the night crew and promoted Ed to Night Manager. At same pay. Over the years Ed figured out how to do the job of three people without having to come in three hours early. Ed was a master of Mop Skates.

I only had to edit out about three paragraphs there and it actually has no relevance to my first paragraph at all but...hmmm, there it is then. Ed Meese. A true Chinese-Native American hero. That should surely fill a much needed social chasm out there.

So Long Jones

It is difficult to consider the ramifications of spending the last year and a half of your life trying to help people achieve their goals only to realize that they would have been better off having never met you. But, to some degree, that is what I did. I worked hard as a financial advisor building a new business in a rural community and I had some significant success at it...even despite the downward turning market. I was getting good clients who trusted what I told them. I was actually surprised that a simple (yet brutally difficult and oftentimes impossible) strategy actually could reap rewards...even in a bad economy. You see, simply put, I knocked on people's doors and asked them to invest their money with me. Usually such a strategy was reserved for Jehovah's Witnesses and guys selling meat out of a mobile freezer or, occasionally, a local politician with a lot of motivation, no money, and two good feet. As I think back on it I knocked on many doors over the past two years--too many to count--and I met a lot of very nice people. A few of them gave me money, some even gave me all of it. Then the bad market tanked. Companies my company always called "safe," and, "could never hurt anyone," were either on the ropes (and still are) or gone completely. I spent three weeks in a faraway city, calling all those people I doorknocked on a number from out of town, trying to sell them Lehman Brothers bonds or Citigroup stock. Why? Because they were safe. Thankfully, I never sold anything on those intense trips because deep down I knew that calling people and trying to sell something I knew nothing about was not a good way to build a successful small town business. Today, Lehman Brothers bonds are gone and Citigroup stock is down 98%. Two months ago, when I was fired for failing to perform to the standards of the company by a person I've never met, I really thought that I had failed. But now, as I think about it, I succeeded because I didn't do what they told me to do. I didn't sell any of their "safe" investments and, because of that, my clients--the people who trusted me to tell them the right thing to do--are better off.

Good Christmas!

I would say "merry" but I kinda felt Dickensy and I figure "good" works just as well. We have entirely too many words in the English language anyway. I wish it to you by the way. Good Christmas. I figured it was implied but, well, I shouldn't assume and all that. Its been good for me, this Christmas. Kinda laid back, no big worries. Rather lovely actually. I asked for nothing as I need nothing although there are things I would like. Job stability being high on the list. But I shant complain as it is the holidays and Santa or Jesus or somebody might be listening. If it's Santa, I really dont' want anything other than to make my kid less selfish. If it's Jesus, please make me a better man. If it's the somebody else; uhhh, free cable for a month or two would be nice. Regardless I say as I said: Good Christmas.

Christmas...Again...Really?

So here we go once more 'round. Ol' holly jolly will grace us once more with his yuletide cheer and what not while we gotta run about buyin' stuff and smiling gleefully as we offer forth monetary pledges into little metal containers in hopes that the people controlling the containers will stop ding-a-ling-linging happy little hemorrhages into our heads. Oh yes the holidays are fastly upon us. And I, for one, am quickly settling into the spirit. My goals for this holiday season:

1. Don't go into any further debt. It's a tough, probably losing, cause but I'm remotely passionate about it.

2. Stay positive. They say that a good attitude can create miracles. That said, I'm not staying positive to become the next Messiah. I'm just doing it in hopes it will stop me from killing somebody over the next two months.

3. Surprise myself. Sure, that might sound difficult or odd but the other day I drank two full glasses of water and put my underwear on backwards before I went to bed. I woke up the next morning in a flat out foot race and found that I had some serious trouble at the end. It was a very unexpected adrenaline rush.

4. Buy some candy canes. Really, I used to love these things but you just don't see 'em much anymore. I really think we need to bring the candy cane back into the holidays.

5. Lastly, thaw the turkey. Three years now we've had fried turkey and three years we've nearly burned down the house (or garage last year). I think some serious prep-time needs to be set aside for this endeavor because I really believe we've just gotten really lucky in the past (or maybe that was just me thinking positive).

Don't Argue With Your Wife

This is just sound advice that I still have trouble adhering to...she is right and you are wrong. Why? Because your not a woman, that's why. I decided to argue with mine four days ago and I'm still reeling from the aftermath of the thing. Of course, I am taking the low road by stating that she won because she is the woman in the argument because, in truth, she won because she was completely right. And by right I mean that she was only slightly more correct that those great scholars and world explorers were right when they assessed that the course of the planet might be in some sort of circular pursuit as opposed to merely being flat and squarish. As I look back on the confrontation I wonder where, exactly, I went wrong. I was so right during so many of the smaller arguments, how did I fuck up the really big one so badly? Because I'm a dumbass I guess and yet, now here's the funny thing, I think the relationship is better now. Still, if I had to do it all over again I don't think I would have tried to argue with someone who is obviously much better at it than me. Now I'm off to bed because my right ear bones are starting to click which is a good sign that I'm overstimulating my brain.

I'm Done With Dress Socks

That's right, I'm done with em; and here's why:



Just look at that classy bitch!! It's got a leather heel and rubber padded front sole insert. That is a mack daddy dress boot! I'm totally gonna own that and for no other reason than to wear comfortable friggin' socks all day for a change. Sure it looks like a pimp boot but, hey, pimps are on their feet all day long so maybe they just might know a thing or two about proper footwear. No more going through my drawer searching out a matching pair of suit socks. I'm tossin' on a pair of comfortable Wilson super-padded Wal-Mart specials and then my new pimp boots. I spent an hour in the rain such trying to find a pair to purchase but I guess I'm the first to the demand or last to the supply. Regardless, I have to order the damn things and I'd order 'em now but it's late and I got way too much stuff to do tomorrow.

Hopefully, I have a couple of dress socks still left in the drawer that kinda resemble each other.

The Quest At End

I'm down to five. Five left socks left. Five with no partner to return to the fold. Two are new and I feel really bad for them, the other three...well I knew their fate long ago. Still, I'd hope to find the match for all of 'em but I didn't. And I'm a bit sad about that. I don't wanna tell 'em I stopped searching for their match but I did (days ago, if truth be told). Now, as the wife keeps naggin' about them and I keep having to walk over them as I get up, I know a decision must be made. I have to let them go. I have to chuck 'em into the trash. I want to save one in particular (an expensive off-brown one with detailed embroidery across it's top) but it would only prolong the inevitable. I saved almost thirty five of my socks by actively seeking out their life mates but I can only think about the five I lost. The five I failed.

Oddly, I discovered over the years I also own hosiery: little thin, dainty socks that can stretch all the way up to my sack'n'crack. Maybe I was a Russian ballerina in a past life.

I Have Guinea Pigs

It's odd, how we define animals in America. Some are pests, some are pets, some are food, and some, the poor beasts, are a multitude of different things. I guess all cultures have their own rules on animals but, here, in the ol' US of A, I think we push it right to the very edge. For instance, I definitely do not want to be a rabbit growing up in the United States. Sure, Bugs Bunny was a funny hare but every year he had to foil Daffy's constant quest to start "Rabbit Season" early. Besides that, he had "lucky feet" but only when they were chopped from his body and attached to key chains (not so much anymore I guess but all trends come back around in time). Then there was that sadistic little girl who always wanted to keep Bugs as a pet. He would escape and find a nice farm full of fat carrots only to have Fudd shooting at him with an ol' Pilgrim style shotgun (and it wasn't even Rabbit season!). Alright, anyway, what was my point here?

...Yes, of course, I have guinea pigs and I don't know what to make of 'em. What the hell is a guinea pig anyway? They really aren't like a rat or a rabbit or really anything else. They are definitely pets, that I'm sure of, because I've never heard of even the most redneck redneck ever speaking of eating one (and I know a lot of rednecks), they have nice fur but PETA has never tried to free a guinea pig farm because they were being raised to be nice coats for really rich people. They certainly don't live in the wild because all they do when cornered is blink a lot and poop even more (two things, I very much doubt, that would deter any focused predator). My grandpa would shoot a squirrel on sight but if a guinea pig landed on his lawn, I'm quite certain he would have instantly felt sorry for the creature and invited it to live in his home. Now that I think about it, guinea pigs might be the smartest creatures in the world because being a simple pet is all they really can do....although they do fatten up quite nicely.

My Left Sock

Currently occupying my bedroom floor are 7 black, 5 brown, 15 multi-colored, and 12 extremely complicated looking socks that have no match. Some of these socks I bought less than a month ago, others I've owned for years and yet they all have no match. How is this possible? Seriously, the biggest thing I dread ever waking morning is finding a damn match for my dress socks! And now I know why! I don't have any damn matches for my dress socks! Today, I spent a solid hour searching out their matches and found none! Not a single one! I spent a good ten minutes just staring at them, turning them, hoping that I can find a match amongst their numbers. Nope. I got almost 40 socks without a partner. I even did two loads of laundry....and I don't do laundry. Still, no answer to this great riddle of life. Where, I wonder, are all of my left socks?

BME Final Round is Fake

Obviously, I don't blog much any more but this whole BME Pain Olympics Final Round crap has forced my hand. And after watching it for the twentieth time (all disgusting) it is definitely fake. So I'm gonna stop watching it now. In fact, I even suspect the final two contestants are the same dude. Imagine that, it comes down to two guys loppin' off their privates and it's just one guy doin' it twice! Funny, you think these kids today would catch onto the truth a bit quicker but in their defense anybody who watches it more than twice is disturbed in the head. Yet I watched it over twenty times (because I knew it was fake although I wasn't sure until after about the fifth time...Uhhhhh!). I'd go ahead and debunk the other ghastly videoes out there but they mainly involve puking and poop and I really don't wanna watch that upchucked crap twenty times only to find that it was absolutely real. Blecht!

Now With Hoodia!!

Sometimes you just don't know what sells until you see a commercial from somebody trying to sell it. Take, for instance, Mega-T Green Tea Dietary Supplement.

Now you can tell right from the start that this product has a lot of good things going for it. First, it's NEW which is always good because nobody wants to buy something that says OLD on the box. Next, you can lose up to 20 pounds which is a solid round number. And if you wanted to lose, say, 40 pounds I'm sure you could just double the dose. Also going for it is the fact that Green Tea is definitely the new big thing. Heck even green tea has green tea added to it. But what really makes this product heads and shoulders above the thirty million other dietary supplements out there is the claim (and twice no less) that it NOW contains South African Hoodia! What exactly is Hoodia? The commercial spokesperson didn't bother explaining but you know Mega-T Green Tea Dietary Supplement is better with the Hoodia in it because why else would they put it in there? They even go so far as to mention that their Hoodia hails from South Africa which indicates all of the other Hoodia's are of inferior quality.

So my hat goes off to those smart people at CCA Industries for giving us the opportunity to use such an innovative product. I'm hopeful that one day they will add a little South African Hoodia to their PlusWhite Extra White Whitening Toothpaste. Sure I don't have a clue what good Hoodia taste like but it couldn't make that foul flavored stuff taste any worse.

My Holiday Ebay Rant

Ahh, another Christmas is complete, my holiday shopping is nearly done and as I sit here and nastalgitate, I'm left feeling bitter (yet again) about my Ebay shopping experience. Sure, I got those hard to find items that were sold out and I even found a couple of things that I didn't even know existed but, really, I feel like Ebay doesn't give a shit about the holiday consumer. Specifically, I take into question this whole antiquated positive ranking system by which we judge whether or not we should purchase an item from a seller. For instance, if I buy from a seller and immediately pay with PayPal that seller has no obligation to give me a positive feedback...they have my money in their account and yet there is no requirement to give me a positive rating on the transaction. I've bought over sixty things on Ebay and about half have given me any rating at all and none, not a single one, has given me a rating before I gave them one. Sixteen transactions using PayPal, which is instantaneous money into each seller's account, and everyone of them (every damn one!) has waited for me to give them positive feedback before they gave it to me. That's insane. Ebay promotes the fact that you can haggle the price and WIN an item but nowhere do they say you have to compliment the seller before you deserve the same (and oftentimes that won't compliment you back although you gave them the money days before they gave you the item. I know I already said that but I'm ranting!). Let's take this situation to the real word and since it's the holidays let's shop at a store we only go into when it's near Christmas time: Radio Shack.

Radio Shack dude: Hello, sir, my name is Derek. can I help you find something?

Customer: Yes, Derek, I'm actually looking for a game chair.

Derek: A game chair? Do you mean a chair game?

Customer: No, it's a chair that plugs into your Xbox or something.....I don't know my sister....

Derek: Oh, well, we have some Xbox stuff over here....but nothing about chairs I don't think.

Customer: No, this is a real chair that plugs into your game thingey and plays the sound I guess.

Derek: Oh, ahhhh, let me get Todd. He's the manager.

Customer's Wife: Let's just go to Sears and pay the eighty dollars.

Customer: No, no, he's getting Todd. Todd's the manager.

Todd: Sir, I'm Todd, the store manager, and we don't have what you want in stock but if you give me a second I think we can order it for you.

Customer: That's fine but I don't want to pay more tha sixty dollars, Todd, and I want free shipping?

Customer's Wife: Free shipping? Why do you want free shipping?

Customer: Shut up! I'm caught up in the moment here!

Todd: Sir, if you would just give me a second.

Customer: Alright, Todd, but time is running out because Sears closes in twenty minutes.

Ten minutes later.

Todd: Sir, you have your chair! There was only one left and I got it for fifty dollars and with free shipping! How would you like to pay?

Customer: Very good! Just put it on my card, Todd, my boy!

Todd swipes the card and places the order.

Todd: Alright, sir, if you would just fill out this survey stating that you had an absolutely fabulous experience at Radio Shack today I can complete this transaction.

Customer: Survey? But I just completed the transaction. I paid for the item.

Todd: Yes, sir, you did.....but you still need to complete the survey. Just answer "absolutely fabulous" to everything and all will just be fine.

Customer: Oh, alright.

Customer fills out survey and gets to the comment line.

Customer: Should I put something here Todd?

Todd: You don't have to but I would recommend: Great seller!! Super communication!! Buy with confidence!! A++++++++++

Customer's Wife: We should have just gotten it at Sears.

My Wii Moment

As anybody who has ever played the Nintendo Wii knows there are stories abound about how the Wii can bring on destruction without a moment's notice. For me, that moment came in a rather heated game of Wii Tennis about three months ago. To begin with I was not very good at Wii Tennis despite my near mastery of nearly all of the other Wii Sports and so when I got things all tied up in the third set, I was anxious to get it over with. My opportunity came in the form of an overhand smash which I took with a great amount of vigor. What resulted was my shoulder popping completely out of joint causing a pain which I can only describe as "insanely horrendously horrible" to cascade from my shoulder and then throughout the rest of my body. Thankfully, I hit the living room floor hard enough to pop the shoulder back in place which did well to subside the tears and cussing. As I lay there clutching my arm, my son, a good boy, walked over to ask, "Daddy, are you gonna get up and play or can I watch my toons now?" Yes, my son loves his daddy.

Anyway, I tell this story only to say that I figured this was my "Wii Moment." It was my story that I would tell about my horrible experience with the Ninentdo Wii. I thought that until today, Thanksgiving Day, when we went to my mom and stepdad's house to eat Thanksgiving dinner.

Recently, my stepdad, after two years of debating on what new TV to buy, purchased a 42 inch Sony Bravia LCD HDTV. Arguably, this was, and still is, the finest LCD HDTV on the market. Even more recently, my stepdad won a Nintendon Wii at work. He even called me at the time to tell me about it since he rarely won much of anything his entire life. Take that and add a bunch of family members eating turkey and drinking adult beverages and you can see the perfect storm beginning to form here.

Long story short, my Wii Moment was not my shoulder wrenching out of joint, it was hearing the sound of a mortar blast as a family member went for a strike on Wii Sports Bowling and accidentally sent the Wii remote at Mach 10 into my stepdad's new Sony Bravia HDTV.

Really, looking back on it, there was no way we could have avoided it.

The Pains of Life

The one thing I've discovered as you grow older is that life likes to occasionally deal you out some serious pain just to make sure your still paying attention. Sometimes it hits you early, with a nasty earache at the age of six or a broken collar bone at the age of ten, but mostly it just comes as a product of time, like taste comes to finely aged wine. For me, I thought a nasty ear or toothache was the worst pain ever until I went to college and got my nose shattered playing racquetball. That sucked. Then, after college, I wrenched my back out and cried for a bit until it finally reset itself and I was good, fairly pain-free, for a few years until I got a kidney stone. A kidney stone, for any who might not know, is akin to having a small tornado placed on your intestines where it just sits and spins for what feels like forever. Kidney stones, I'm certain, actually have the ability to stop time itself. Ask a woman who gave birth to a child and also passed a kidney stone which was worse and I'm certain she would say that she would have gladly given birth to the kid sideways as opposed to passing a kidney stone. Long story short, I thought the stone was the worst pain I had in my life until I stopped by to see my dad today (a man of tough pedigree and a survivor of no less than three kidney stones) to discuss sports and general chit chat. He appeared gravely ill despite still being at work. He had his foot propped on his desk. He had gout in his foot. I didn't have a clue as to what gout was although I did associate it with World War II for some reason. I asked dad how bad it hurt and he replied with great conviction,

"Well, I tried to find some twelve guage shells to shoot off my foot a couple of nights ago."

"That doesn't answer my question," I told him. "All I want to know is if it is more painful than kidney stones?"

"Right now, I'd take a kidney stone over this," he answered after little thought.

Not liking his answer, I quickly turned the conversation to sports and general chit chat for the next half hour. Dad didn't seem to be into talking that much so I had to support most of the conversation but it was still good as it kept my mind off the idea that I might have to one day deal with another, even more painful, life pain.

New Suit Day!

So I bought a new suit about a year and a half ago.....a really good suit. Grey with pin stripes. All wool. Very nice. Anyway, so I buy my suit, and I'm really stoked about wearing it to work (yes, I know, that's sad but, hey, I like new suits) when I discover the next morning I have somehow gained about ten pounds overnight. I stare down at the two sides of the dress pants, each failing by a full two inches to meet each other in the middle. Looming over them is my belly button, hovering like a skin-covered jelly supervisor, telling them it's their problem for being pants not his problem for being an overweight belly. Me, feeling caught in the middle, chose not to have an opinion as I abandoned the suit to a far off corner of my suit closet and chose a nice pair of expandable slacks and a sports coat to wear instead.

Like I said, that was a year and a half ago. Today, feeling frisky, I decided to try on the suit again and I'll be damned what was two inches is now a manageable quarter of an inch at best! Long story short, after a year and a half of waiting, I have a new suit! I must have somehow lost weight despite watching more T.V., eating more crappy food, and playing a shitload of Wii.

The new Wii Table Tennis game to be exact.

My point: screw your carb diets and exercising. I eat crappy food and play the Wii and now I've got a new suit to show for it.....what have you got?

If I Were Still Dumb

So I was refilling my unrefillable laser printer drum with toner out by the porch in a rather hefty wind while wearing my suit when a thought dawned on me. Toner is a real bitch of a thing to deal with! That was the thought. I could have bought a whole new drum for like seventy bucks plus shipping but I ain't got that sorta cash at the moment so I shopped around and found out that I could heat cut my current drum, drop in a flask of eBay bought toner, and seal the drum and I'd be good to go.....for like eight fifty plus two bucks shipping. You do the math on that and you save quite a few nickels there. Or so one would think.

If you would check up there somewhere I mentioned wind. I discovered that wind during toner transfers is kinda like doing brain surgery on a roller coaster. The printer drum, much like a brain, is sensitive to shit, mainly shit fucking with it during an extremely detrimental state. However, I would argue that my changing out the toner on my drum on the cheap was more difficult that brain surgery as I had to contend with a bee that for some odd reason fell in love with my left ear at that exact time. I named the bee Jeff as I attended to my toner troubles. I named him Jeff in hopes that it would appease his obvious low self-esteem issues (as he should have been busy making honey) as well as appeasing my lifetime need to find a bee I could bond with enough to give it a name.

Long story short.....I could've paid $65.00 for a new drum of toner but instead I paid around ten bucks and ruined a four hundred dollar suit. Oh and I met a bee named Jeff.


P.S.: I had to kill Jeff. I had to kill Jeff because he was a bee. I don't like bees...even bees with names.

Verizon Help Desk

You know when you have to call customer service your day is probably going to start heading downhill pretty quickly. And when the customer service belongs to the telephone company "pretty quickly" is probably an understatement. Still, when you have a phone line draped across your driveway, through your neighbors yard, and another fifty yards down the street, you pretty much have to call somebody. For me, the first call was to call the owners of the line that was draped across my driveway. Fortunately for me, I got to talk with Mrs. Ham, probably the best customer service person I have ever spoken with in my life.The conversation went something like this:

Mrs. Ham: Hello? How can I help you?

Me: Yeah, I've got a phone line laying across my driveway. I think it fell off the pole.

Mrs. Ham: You say your phone line is down?

Me (as I stand beside the line surveying the large cable on the ground): Oh, yes, it is most definitely down.

Mrs. Ham: Alright, sir, we'll have a truck there on Monday to take care of that for you.

It was Friday when I called

Me, sounding rather shocked: Um, well, that just won't do. I've got to get out of my driveway and I don't know if this thing is even live or not!

Mrs. Ham, sounding quite confident: Sir, I can assure you that nine times out of ten them lines ain't live.

Me, still sounding shocked: Nine times out of ten? Well, that's not very good! I've got a four year old kid! I can't have this thing laying in my yard all weekend!

Mrs. Ham, still sounding confident: Sir, hold on and let me speak to my manager.

During the wait, I took the time to walk down the street to the end of the line. Farther down the road I could see the nice new garbage truck. The nice new extremely tall garbage truck.

Mrs. Ham: Sir?

Me: Yeah.

Mrs. Ham: Sir, I talked with my manager and he is almost absolutely sure that ain't no live wire but he thinks we might be able to get a truck there tomorrow.

Me, getting frustrated: Look, I don't think you understand the situation here. Something has ripped this line off of the pole and now it is laying across driveways, and yards, and the road. Somebody needs to look at this today! What am I supposed to tell my neighbors when they come home? That this thing is almost absolutely safe?

Mrs. Ham, getting equally frustrated: Sir, like I said most of the time them lines ain't live and we'll have somebody out there to take care of it tomorrow!

Me: Fine but I'm calling 911.

Mrs. Ham, really startin' to steam: Now hold on there sir! You don't need to do that! Mrs. Ham is takin' care of this!

Me, starting to become confused: Well, I still don't think you understand the situation here.

Mrs Ham: Alright, sir, explain the situation again.

Me: There is a phone line, a very large phone line, laying across my driveway, my neighbor's driveway, his yard, and the street across which I and all my other neighbors travel. Previous to today, the line was quite securely attached to two telephone poles.

Mrs. Ham, sounding suspicious: Sir, are you talking to me on your phone right now?


Me: How can I be doing that when the phone line is no longer attached to itself? Its laying on the ground in front of me. It looks very much like a vehicle has come along and it got hung on it and the vehicle ripped it out.

Mrs. Ham, acting befuddled: Sir, don't you think if somebody ripped out a phone line they would call us and let us know about it?

Me: Well, I don't know but....

Mrs. Ham, interrupting me: Look, sir, I understand the situation and I've spoken with my manager. Mrs. Ham is gonna take care of this quicker than you can think! You don't have to worry about it. Mrs. Ham gonna have somebody come out there first thing tomorrow.

Me: That's fine but I'm almost absolutely sure I'm gonna go ahead and call 911.

Then I hung up the phone.

To Mrs. Ham's credit, the phone company was there in less than a half an hour. Nobody ever came from 911.

Cedar Point....Greatest Place To Get Shitty Food

So I've just returned from an extended weekend at Cedar Point, the greatest rollercoaster park in the entire world, and I must say that the press is correct more now than ever before; Cedar Point has many of the best rollercoasters in the world. The Millennium Force is an absolute must ride (although it still can't match the Magnum's view as you whip into the double banked turns) and the Top Thrill Dragster is just....well, there isn't really a good way to explain that damn thing. However, unlike before when you used to have to wait two hours just to ride a coaster, nowadays you can even get on a good one in less than half an hour which leaves a lot of time to grab some grub. Sadly, at Cedar Point "grub" is only slightly better than actually foraging through the woods looking for actual grubs to eat. Mainly, they have hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza, and chicken fingers; all served at various different venues about the park and all of equally poor quality. They even had one pizza place that was touted as being "new and improved!" that served food of such poor quality we concluded that it must have previously been a restroom or garbage area before being turned into a restaurant; thus giving it the "new and improved" status.

Later, at the Snoopy Fire-Grilled Burger Place (which served the same horrendous burgers as everyplace else) I tossed a few inedible fries into the river that meanders through a portion of the park. Immediately, the carp by the shore jumped at the fries but all quickly spit them back out. They chose to instead eat their own feces as opposed to sucking down a Cedar Point fry. Personally, I was impressed by their decision at first but then I figured they had probably eaten the fries for many years before they figured out their own shit tasted better.

As for myself, I'll double up on the Happy Meals and maybe pack a bag full of, well, just about any sort of edible shit I can find before my next trip to Cedar Point.

From The Land of Pampered Comes....

This article on Yahoo! Pets: 5 Tips for New Cat Owners . Now, I don't have a problem with giving nice suggestions on what to do when buying a cat but what I find absolutely insane about this useless article is that not one of the five suggestions is even remotely useful to anybody buying a new cat. Let me go through them quickly:

Tip 1. Do your homework. Talk to a vet. Read cat books. Learnnnnnn. Holy horse shit, it's a fucking cat, lady! If it's fluffy and you like fluffy then buy the fluffy fucking kitty!!

Tip 2. Start out with the right equipment. I've owned over fifty cats in my lifetime and I don't even know what that means? Buy a litter box, show the kitty the litter box and it will use the litter box. Buy it a hundred fun toys and scratchy thingys and it will still ruin your couch.

Tip 3. Make your home cat-safe. This is without question the dumbest single statement I think I've ever heard. Cat-safe? I could throw a cat at a drawer of knives and it will somehow jump out unscathed as I would spend the next five days nursing a sore shoulder because I threw a wiley cat at a drawer of knives. So what is cat-safe? According to the article, cat-safe is securing any dangling open wires so that the cat doesn't try to play with them. According to me, if you have danging open wires you might wanna try and get people-safe first and try your hand at buying a cat in a couple of years or so.

Tip 4. Make your home cat-friendly. Alright, I was wrong, this is without question the dumbest single statement I think I've ever heard.

Tip 5. Remember--your cat is not a dog. Yes, that's right, despite your every desire to buy dog food for your cat or, I don't know, teach it to fetch shit, it's still a cat. And if you honestly thought that your cat might be a dog then, well, you could possibly be more mentally out of whack than the person who wrote this article....although I greatly doubt it.

In The Land of What The Hell Is It?

According to the 2012 London Olympic committee that is the logo that will inspire everyone to become more involved and truly unite the world. According to just about everybody else, it's pretty much about the ugliest damn logo they've ever seen. Even more to the point, according to this Sporting News article the animated version of the "modern, world-inspiring" logo may also cause some people to have seizures which I guess does suggest that the logo does inspire some people to immediately get involved; although it is less in a volunteer capacity and more in a flailing about the floor while trying to swallow their tongues endeavor. Still, that is more than previous Olympic logos can say for themselves. The website is also quick to point out that the logo is an evolving creature and will certainly change by the time the 2012 Olympics come to London. Even with such a long time line I still doubt that they will get very many people to embrace the new logo although I feel confident that they will cut down on it's seizure-inducement. At the very least they can figure out the best place to stick a warning label on it.

The Next Great Invention

Funny thing, great inventions. The Post-It Note came about as a result of bad glue while the airplane came about as a result of many, many years of trial and error. The paper clip, oddly, was never invented by anybody despite it's great usefulness while the coat or clothes hanger is claimed to be the mind's product of President Thomas Jefferson, the same man who invented our very Constitution. Inventions, it would seem, are very fickle beasts that somehow have the ability to crop up from everywhere and nowhere at once. So when you find one you should take hold of it because there is a good chance it might have already been invented and improperly marketed or, even worse, marketed properly but been improperly invented. I know you are confused but I'm working hard on inventing something that makes you less confused while reading this blog. Your donations are appreciated.

Onto my invention. It's simple really. I had some free time and needed to do some sit down colon-related business. I was in the mood to discuss but I was not in a "discussion" setting since I was otherwise detained by the colon-related business. That's when I thought, "You know, a talking toilet would be sorta nice about now." Quickly, I realized that such a thing wasn't plausible but then I thought, "A toilet that said something every now and again...that would kinda be funny...wouldn't it?" And from that thought sprung my invention. A talking toilet! It says random things but only rarely so as to not make itself mundane or expected and it says many things so repetitive is not an issue. Really, I didn't give it a lot of major thought but the few seconds I did think about it I feel quite confident in saying that I think that the Talking Toilet will change peoples lives.

It's the next Post-It Note. But without all of that nasty non-sticky glue.

The New Way To Make a Great Movie

It seems that over the past many years the new trend to movie-making is to not necessarily make a good movie but rather make a good "buzz" heading into the movie so that you can get enough people watching it by the first weekend that it doesn't matter whether or not the movie is even good or not. Take, for instance, the movie, "Bug." Now this movie might be good, I don't know since I haven't watched it, but I do know that after watching this trailer:




I came away with the clear impression that this might be a really creepy "Bug" movie. Then I saw the reviews. The critics loved it and yet the audience hated it beyond words. Why? Because, apparently, there aren't really all that many bugs in the Bug movie. Instead, Bug is a psychological thriller of another sorts that, obviously by the fact that every critic reviewed it, the critics knew about ahead of time (because critics never review any mainstream horror movie-despite how good or bad). As for the audience, they all saw the same trailer as me and assumed that it was about.....oh, I don't know.....bugs maybe? Sure, they could have marketed the movie for what it was....two crazy people gettin' together in a small room so that they can spend the night gettin' all kindsa crazier but crazy is for Cannes, Bugs opened nationwide...which begs the question once more, "Why?" Why not target an audience of true interest instead of tapping the mainstream horror movie watching crowd (that being the teen to twenty somethings)? I don't know but it isn't the first time it happened.

In Gladiator (yes, I know, it was a huge blockbuster), the trailer showed the main enemy as a man in a gold mask while in the movie the guy in the mask was actually an overweight nothing as the true enemy translated to little more than a crybaby in tights when compared to the overly-testosteronized Maximus character.

In the Matrix sequels the made us believe they were gonna be awesome and yet they sucked. Alright, I guess that's more of a personal issue but still: trailers awesome, movies sucked ass.

I've got many more examples but, for some reason, my movie brain isn't working anymore so I guess I'll leave it for edit later.

Sometimes Even Better And Popular Ain't Enough

So I'm outside tossin' around this weird spongy saw-blade thingy with the kid (it's supposed to be the newest, coolest take on a Frisbree) which causes me to wonder, "Didn't we already solve the whole "what is the best Frisbee" dilemma a few years back?" Currently, we own five different forms of circular throwing things (none of which are made by Frisbee) and they all suck. Sure, they go pretty far on a good toss but I remember something that could easily go twice as far with half the effort. It was a great toy....they even made a really cool Boomerang that always looked like it was heading back to you before it landed on the roof of the neighbor's house. The company's name was Aerobie and their amazing product looked like this:




Aerobie's were on the verge of becoming the numero uno of outdoor disc-throwing thingys as they began to take over the summertime park and yard scenes across America. Somebody even set a world record by chucking on of the things over twelve hundred feet. But, then, as suddenly as they came, they went. I was saving up to buy one (they were quite expensive) when they suddenly disappeared and I believe I bought myself a nice pair of Hammer-style black and white balloon pants instead. I imagine that price was what finally got the best of the Aerobie (unlike poor money management which was Hammer's final downfall) but, really, that seems to never stop Apple from coming back out of the grave every five years or so. I'm hopeful that the same will be said for Aerobie since I really don't enjoy throwing out my arm just to watch a heavy piece of sponge go forty feet and then crash like a plane that suddenly ran out of gas.

I did find Aerobie's website but they don't sell their products directly which is a shame. I guess I'll just have to wait until Apple innovates the flying disc in a couple of years. Sure it'll cost five hundred bucks but it will also automatically download all of your favorite tunes as it zips through the air.

Turkeys Are Poor Swimmers

Well, it only took three weeks to figure out how to get back on this thing! And for what? Because of turkey, for one thing. More specifically, Hormel Natural Choice Oven Roasted Deli Turkey.

I paid an extra buck fifty because this particular turkey contained no preservatives which I figured was worth the money. It even says "Taste the freshness from Hormel Foods....naturally." on the box which was a nice little slogan. When I got home and took a sample taste of my newly purchased healthy turkey I began to suspect that what Hormel called a "fresh taste" was actually what most people would call a "tastes like wet rubber" taste. Oddly, it also smelled like an old tire which, while equally unappealing, did at least tie into the flavor pretty well. Two days later when my bad-tasting, foul-smelling turkey turned almost glow-in-the-dark pink I knew there were more than a few people back at Hormel having a good laugh at my expense. That's when I really read the packaging. It said, "All Natural Ingredients," which lead me to wonder if it was all natural with no preservatives shouldn't the only ingredients be fucking turkey?!? Apparently I don't know a damn thing about natural turkey because natural turkey contains Turbinado sugar, baking soda, and carrageenan (which comes from seaweed). I'm no expert but I don't think that a turkey ever naturally encounters seaweed. What do they do, drown these turkeys in the ocean in order to lock in that oh-so-good natural turkeyness? Personally, I'd rather eat a few preservatives as opposed to eating seaweed turkey again. Now I'm off to try some of my naturally cooked deli ham which contains no seaweed. However it does contain"lactic acid starter culture" which sounds waaaaaay better than eating a nasty ol' preservative.

A Three Year Old's Tips On What To Expect When Trapped In A Cave With A Bunch of Monsters

Now some might question whether or not a three year old should be watching The Descent, one of the scarier movies to come out in recent months, but to those people I say, "I'll fuck up my kid the way I want, you fuck up your kid the way you want." Besides, I warned him ahead of time that it was a scary movie but he refused to leave the room. His fault. Not that I thought he couldn't handle a scary movie because this is the same kid that watched Alien vs. Predator when he was two although he did leave halfway through because he said it was "silly" (I didn't ask why but he was mumbling something about how two kinds of monsters in the same movie was stupid. He thinks silly and stupid are the same word and interchanges them often.). As for his opinion of The Descent, I must say that he did have some solid tips for anybody who might be trapped in a pitch black cave with a bunch of "Tiger monsters" as my son called them. Actually, to me, they looked more like demon-vampires but I don't watch as many scary movies as my son. Anyway, according to a three year old, here are few good tips to follow when trapped in a cave with a bunch of monsters.

Tip #1. When you have successfully killed one or two monsters be ready to expect a bunch more monsters.

Three year old: That's not all the monsters.
Me: How do you know? You just came in here.
Three year old: Because there are always bunches of monsters in caves, silly daddy.
Twenty seconds later, ten more monsters appear from nowhere
Three year old: See, I told you so.

Tip #2. When you kill a monster and it falls in a large body of water and then you fall into that body of water next to the dead, floating monster....chances are, you haven't killed the monster.

Three year old: That monsters pretendin' to be sleepin'.
Me: Oh, you think--[I nearly scream as the monster suddenly grabs the girl around the neck]
Three year old: I told you that monster was pretendin to be sleepin. That monster is silly.

Tip #3. Always be on the lookout for large pools of blood.

Three year old: Did she just fall in a pool of blood?
Me: Yes, I believe she did indeed fall in a pool of blood.
Three year old: Pools of blood are gross! Me and mommy think pools of blood are gross!
I didn't ask him to elaborate on that one.

Tip#4. Expect cave monsters to be suffering from some sort of respiratory infection.

Three year old: That Tiger monster is pretty snotty. I think he has a cold.
Me: You said the same thing about the monsters in The Cave movie we watched last week.
Three year old: I know, that monster had a cold too. Cave monsters have lotsa colds all of the time.

And, finally, Tip #5. If you go into a cave then your stupid because everybody knows all caves have monsters....and spiders.

Three year old: I'm done watchin' this stupid cave monster movie.
Me: Why?
Three year old: Because I just am. This movie is stupid.
Me: Really? Well, just so you know, Peter Travers gave this a really good review. I just think your scared.
Three year old: I'm not scared! But I just don't want to watch it anymore. I don't like silly cave monster movies.
Me: Well, your gonna miss the surprise ending.
Three year old: I don't care. I don't like this movie. It's stupid.
Me: So you've mentioned. Maybe your just prejudice against cave monsters. I think we need to go visit some caves tomorrow.
Three year old: No, I don't go in caves!
Me: Really...why is that?
Three year old: Because caves have cave monsters, stupid daddy!
Me: Yup, just like I thought. Your prejudice against cave monsters.
[Long pause]
Three year old, almost whispering: And spiders.

No More For Gore

According to a Reuters article I found in the Huffington Post, Al Gore will definitely not run for President in 2008. Instead, he will continue his popular campaign of trying to get the United States to lead the campaign to end our world's current climate crisis. Now while I do think that this whole climate crisis thing is a bit debatable (much like nuclear power, lead in gasoline, and recycling every fucking thing we can get our hands on) where I fundamentally disagree with Mr. Gore on this issue is that it definitely should not be the United States leading the way towards lowering global CO2 emissions. Mr. Gore says that we should lead the cause because we are the ones causing most of the problem (we currently produce 20 metric tons of CO2 emissions per capita) but I must ask: Do we ask the crack addicts or the heroine junkies to solve the drug problem? If somebody gets shot in a drive-by do we tell them that it is their job to stop street violence? No, we do not because they are the victims much like America is the victim of it's heavy dependence on fossil fuels and other CO2 causing dependencies. Hell, per capita-wise Canadians use fossil fuels nearly as much as Americans and yet they are constantly heralded as a nearly Utopian society--kinda like France but with at least a semblance of an sense of humor. Yet Canadians are never discussed in the global environment picture (hell, Canadians are never discussed period) and yet they are doin' the same shit Americans are doin' except maybe only on the weekends or when their buddies from college decide to stop by and crash for a few days. Yeah, sure, we might be sellin' a bit on the side to the little guys but we have over 5,000 airports to support! We gotta sell the shit just to keep the two-thirds of the airline industries that aren't profitable from going bankrupt! Of course, even if an airline does go bankrupt, the government just jumps in and gives it special status until it gets back on its feet! Oh yeah, we got a problem, we got a big problem, but we are supposed to be the ones to fix it? Yeah right. Now that I think about it, we don't have a problem at all...we're just under a lot of pressure. It's tough being a world leader.

Now if you will excuse me I'm off to the local 24-hour grocery store (its only four miles away) because I feel the need for a Slim Jim and a bag of Bar-B-Q Frito Twists coming on.

The Church of Ultimate Peace.....and Prosperity

Alright, I'll be the first to admit that I think Scientology is on the very fringe of kooky religions but sometimes I gotta give props when props are due. Take this quote of Ute Kiessel, a spokesman for Scientology, during the recent opening of their big ass building...err, I mean Church...in downtown Berlin, Germany. Mr. Kiessel outlined the Church's "Big Picture" plan by saying:

"The aims of Scientology include a civilization without war, without criminality and without insanity, where honest people have rights."

By stating the Church's goals so plainly, Mr. Kiessel quite effectively distinguished Scientology from all of the pro-war, pro-criminal, pro-insanity, anti-honesty religions out there. I mean, its right there on the packaging now...unlike Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Muslim(ism?), and even Atheism; all of which get bogged down with these hard to grasp "afterlife" concepts (or non-concept when the Atheists are concerned). Usually I disregard anything that comes out of the mouth of the Church of Scientology but now they have my attention because, well, I'm a huge Star Trek fan. Sure, Scientologists have yet to make a battle plan to thwart the Romulans and Klingons but it sounds like they are gonna attack "insane" people pretty aggressively which is nice (just think, no more crazy hobo on a bike bugging you when you buy gas at the nearby gas station!). Still, I do have one major concern and that is why go after Germany so aggressively? I mean, doesn't the Church have a good thing in the heartland of super-rich people who skipped their SAT's in order to appear on an episode of General Hospital? The German government doesn't even recognize Scientology as a religion and yet the Church has spent untold millions of dollars actively trying to recruit...I mean enlighten...the country. Still, I don't remember a single German character on Star Trek....ever. Is there something in Germany's past which might lead The Church of Scientology to think that they would be excellent recruits...er, I mean, members?

Something.....something.....

"Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it."

--Adolf Hitler

Ahhh....Those Were The Days

Being a child of the eighties, I grew up in the real golden years of women's liberation and, to me, nothing expressed that movement more than this pink can:


That's Tab, baby! The First Lady of diet drinks. When all other beverages cowered to the male-dominated world, Tab strutted her stuff in a bright pink can that said, "I don't need no man to be happy! Am I right ladies? Am I right?" In the sixties, when Tab was introduced, no other beverage dared to be so brazenly pro-woman but by the eighties Tab was the Queen Diva of the social scene. Girls would huddle together at the local skating rink, outwardly sipping their Tab's while laughing at the boys and primping their roller skate Pom-Poms. I remember when my mom started drinking Tab; I remember because it wasn't too long after that when she divorced my dad. To me, a youth of eleven, Tab was only below a box of tampons on the list of things that made me feel both extremely uncomfortable and greatly curious at the same time.

Sadly, during the nineties, women abandoned Tab as they embraced independence by other means, mainly by becoming more active in politics and starting day time talk shows. Soon Tab was less of a memory than Jordache jeans, Aqua Net Super Hold hair spray, and, sadly, C. Thomas Howell. That was until February 2006, when a new beverage started hitting the streets.

Maybe you've seen this slick little can in the store shelves. It's Tab Energy and, just like Tab, it's just for the ladies. But don't get confused, this is not your momma's Tab! The ingredients for Tab Energy read like a voodoo witches grocery list. Sure, Dr. Pepper has 23 ingredients but Tab Energy contains Guarana, a shrub found in Brazil, and Carnitine, which is a quaternary ammonium compound for those who might not already know. The can doesn't say whether the quaternary ammonium compound is the secret to the drinks "Jolly Rancher" like flavor but I'm guessing that the answer might be a solid, "mayyyybeeee." So what do the ladies think of the new heiress apparent to the "ladies only" Tab franchise?



One need not look far to find the answer to that question:

Tab Energy is Fergalicious!

From The Land of Ultimate Convenience

Comes this delightful AP story on Yahoo! Finance about the horrible inconvenience of having to take off your shoes as you pass through the airport metal detector. Apparently there is nothing worse than having to go through the cumbersome task of taking off your shoes, putting them on a conveyor belt and then putting your shoes back on once they come out the other side. Luckily, as the article explains, certain oh-so-lucky people will no longer have to go through such a burden whenever they board a plane. Instead, for a minimal one hundred dollar fee they can step on a special scanner that checks their irises and fingerprints to confirm their identity, checks their fingers for remnants of bomb-making materials, and also checks their shoes for actual bombs. As of yet, there are no plans to add an anal probe to the scanner.

Of course, now here is my idea, how about instead we all go out and buy some nice comfortable slip-on shoes instead of...you know, giving away another big hunk of our personal freedom? We could even practice kicking them up onto the scanner on one side and jumping into them when they come out the other side. Or better yet, why don't they just shoot us through the scanner with our shoes still on our feet? That way when some terrorist figures out another way to get a bomb on a plane we will already be covered. Then again, I guess we could give this hundred dollar, fingerprint, eyeball, bomb residue shoe scanner a little more time. Hey, and if you lose a foot or something, they might even give you fifty bucks back!

23....Really? But I Still Just Taste The One

I've always been fascinated with advertising campaigns: the successful ones, the unsuccessful ones, and the just plain peculiar ones (can you say Mentos?). But sometimes I just gotta scratch my head and ask, "Uh, what's the point?" Take, for instance, Dr. Pepper's recent massive ad campaign heralding the popular beverage as having "23 unique flavors." Now I've never been a big Dr. Pepper fan but I do know that it has always had one flavor and that flavor was Mr. Pibb flavor. When, suddenly, did Dr. Pepper become a complicated blend of 23 flavors? It doesn't even have 23 ingredients and sometimes those ingredients change (sugar or corn syrup) depending on where it gets distributed from! Even ballsier than that, is that the actual flavor of Dr. Pepper is exactly the same as it has been for the last one hundred years...it's just now it is a perfect blend of 23 unique flavors! Hey, at least Coke said it's suddenly unique flavor was because it was New Coke....which everybody hated of course and prompted the return of Coke Classic (which actually was a Newer Coke but...you get my point). Obviously, Dr. Pepper is just making this shit up but I must wonder, "Why 23?" Why not..I don't know...42? Or 3 cubed plus 2? Is there something about the idea of 23 separate flavors that is subconsciously appealing to the average soda drinker? Who knows although I do think that Mr. Pibb should start a "mediocre second place soda war" with a counter-campaign; maybe they could do a, "Drink Pibb: It tastes the same and we do it with just the one flavor. Pibb flavor," or, "Choose Mr. Pibb...because we heard that one of their flavors was boiled beef balls." Regardless, I hope Dr. Pepper great success in their expensive campaign although I do fear that if it is successful Hardee's and Carl Jr's might come out with a 23-flavored slop burger...as if watching people eat that revolting chili burger wasn't bad enough.

UPDATE: 1/5/2007--So it seems that Dr. Pepper actually started out as having 23 fountain flavors which explains the 23. However, that fact still doesn't make me wanna start drinkin Dr. Pepper. A funny note though, when Mr. Pibb changed it's name to Pibb Xtra I did go out and buy some just to see what that "Xtra" was all about. I discovered it didn't taste all that different than regular ol' Mr. Pibb but I did have two people ask me what the "Xtra" was while I was drinking it which was nice (so I guess the Xtra might be the added attention you get while drinking your new Pibb).

Saddam's Dead....So What's That Mean on Ebay?

Yup, they hung him but is it a good thing? My guess is that he probably kinda deserved it.....he was sortof pretty much completely evil (with the understanding that evil is entirely debatable in this day and age). Regardless, I was more interested in seeing what Ebay had to say about Saddam's hanging. And what Ebay had was nothing less than super news for the opportunistic Ebayer! Did yah know that the actual rope that hung that actual dictator is for sale...er well...anyway, Look here and you can find an exact replica of the actual rope they used to hang the actual dictator, Saddam Hussein!!

But here is my whole opinion of it. You take one ruthless dictator, call him A, and add one piece of rope, call it B, and you get C....I'll explain below.




A (Once Ruthless Dictator)

+


B (Long Piece of Rope)

=



I guess people just don't like dicators all that much anymore. Still, if the rope is real as the Ebay sale suggests then it is a super-steal at a penny plus 9.99 shipping. Personally, I'm holdin' out for his shoes. I always thoughts his shoes looked really nice.

The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

With another whirlwind holiday season starting to fade into the past, I must take a moment to reflect. And by reflecting I mean talking about all the stupid shit my son got as gifts. Let me get right to the first gift from Santa: Moon Sand.

Moon Sand is pretty cool because it won't absorb moisture of any kind but once you get past that initial "coolness" you'll soon realize that it's basically just fucking sand! The manufacturer claims it's easy to clean up but apparently these studies were done in labs by very slow and meticulous lab technicians with large hand held vacuum cleaners. After about five minutes of watching my son slap and squish and throw globs of Moon Sand (which obliterate into miniscule particles when they hit anything), I quickly retired this little gift for night's over at the grandparent's houses (since they supplied my child with roughly two gallons of this amazing stuff).


Next is a lovely little thing called the i-Tattoo Boys Tattoo Maker.

First, I think it is a little offensive in this day and age to label a Tattoo Maker for "boys" when a lot of young little ladies would probably love to emulate Britney or Paris by putting a nice tat over their ass crack or fancying up their exposed pre-teen belly buttons with a ring of poison ivy or what not. Second, who in their right minds thinks that a machine gun pen loaded with permanant ink is a smart thing to give to an adolescent? My three year old's arms look like they were transplanted from a Manson-lovin', Skoal-dippin', trucker midget. This one goes with the Moon Sand straight to the grandparent's house.


Now this next guy is just plain ugly and it's confusing to boot.

The Monster Tumbler is touted as a flipping, rolling, turning, stuntatistic RC car! However, with its super hard plastic wheels (and large plastic Rollerblade wheel on top that I affectionately call "The Hammer") that are covered in little plastic knobs and it's complete lack of any true turning ability, the Monster Tumbler is really nothing more than an insanely fast piece of spinning terror that will crash into toes, cats, furniture, and anything else that appears innocent or damageable. Even better is that my son has found that it can be controlled from any room in the house because the remote has a range of two miles. It's a nice effect as my son casually watches toons while pushing the levers up and down in a completely random manner. Occasionally, you can hear the wife scream in some part of the house to which my son yells from the comfort of the couch, "Sorry mommy! I'm playing with my car!"

Of course not all of my kid's Christmas gifts were potential hazards. For example this guy was a huge hit in my opinion:

That's Transformers Cybertron Primus and he is almost as awesome as the original Transformers Optimus Prime. Add to it the four bonus mini Transformers that came with it and, well, I just can't be too upset with Santa's performance this holiday season.

It's Amazing What People Perceive As Important

Apparently, this whole "election" buzz is all that people are thinking about right now while serious issues--things that actually effect our daily lives--continue to go ignored. Take, for instance, Burger King's recent partnership with the soon-to-be-released Happy Feet movie. On the surface, this would appear to be a rather harmless endeavor. Much to my great pain, I soon discovered that this pairing was anything but harmless as I purchased my three year old son a Happy Meal from Burger King. A Happy Meal containing an innocent little penguin toy called Heartsong Gloria. "What is it? What is it?" my son exclaimed as I chucked the toy back at him, remarking, "I don't know...it looks like some kind of penguin," as I pulled into the nearby gas station to purchase more milk (always more fucking milk!). When I returned to the car (the car I parked next to the gas station entrance and locked fully) my son chirped over and over again, "It's another whistle daddy! It's another whistle!" to which I answered, "Oh, great, another whistle." It would seem that the recent trend in Happy Meals is whistles of all varying types: Superman whistles, Duck whistles, every fucking type of whistle you can think of. But this whistle was differend and I should have known it was different when my son said, "Listen, daddy, but hold your ears first!" Instead, I ignored my son as I pulled onto the open highway. I reiterate, I ignored a three-year old, a seasoned veteran of whistles of all shapes and types, who went out of his way to tell me to hold my ears before he took to blowing his whistle.

Next, I can only remember an explosion in my brain as I immediately went blind, causing the car to speed out of control and--since I had been delaying getting the wheels re-aligned--probably straight towards the large granite median. Thankfully, the shrilling pain in my head stopped just in time for me to regain control of the vehicle although it took a great deal of panicked blinking before my eyesight completely returned. "I ran out of air," my son said as he added, "But that's a good whistle isn't it?" I never replied as I passed a dog convulsing on the off-ramp. As I pulled onto the road towards my house I had to steer around two dead alley cats and an owl that was leaning against my fence as if in a drunken stupor. The ringing in my ears continued as I parked the car, let my son out of the back seat and calmly told him, "Now hurry up and go show mommy your whistle."

Thankfully, Burger King has eleven more of these delightful toys for my son to collect.

My Christmas List

With Christmas fast approaching I figure now would be a good time to compose my list for Santa (because I'm a fucking shoe-in for "Nice" this year). First, I headed over to the single greatest place to mark off all of those must-have items for the yuletide....you probably already guessed where I'm talking about. That's right, ThinkGeek.com, the greatest toy store on Earth. Alright, to be honest, I already own most of the good stuff like the Curiously Strong Magnets (I saw those on an episode of MythBusters and just had to have them. Besides I have a job and if Santa really wanted my business he'd come around a little more often) and I've got like five different laser pens of various colors (the blue is the coolest). As for the ColdHeat soldering device, the bending butane lighter, the USB storage pen, the PowerSquid, and the Acrobot, got it, got it, got it, got it, and....well, I decided I didn't want it. I don't have this awesome watch though.
Sure its pretty sleek looking but what is really cool is that baby tells time in binary! How awesome is that? If they had cool shit like that when I was in high school I would have probably gotten my picture in the Senior Yearbook! Hell, I might have even went out on a date! Regardless, that baby is as good as mine. Next is something I've wanted for years.



A tiny RC helicopter. It's like an annoying little bug that only I can control! Whuh-hahah-hahaha! One day I shall learn to operate a thousand tiny RC helicopters and then I will begin my quest of stopping Tom and Katie from taking over the world so that I, and I alone, can take over the world (the wife really isn't into that sort of stuff but she does tolerate my hobbies).

Once that happens I'll probably ask for a pair of these sweet boxers for Christmas....


....of course, then I'll probably be on Santa's "Naughty" list but I won't care because I'll rule the world which means Santa will be my little bitch!

Once, long ago, I read this poem.....

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

....after that, I got totally hooked on fantasy shit. I've read it over and over and yet I can't find a subliminal message in it anywhere. Odd that something so insane can effect a person so greatly. To this day I can still see the child wielding that great vorpal blade and downing that deadly Jabberwock!

They even did a Ghostbusters cartoon of the Jabberwocky a long time ago although it was slightly less memorable but to it's credit I do still remember the episode (but, then again, the poem did touch me so).

IE 7.....It Looks So Familiar

So I just downloaded IE 7 and I must admit that the experience was very similar to watching an episode of Deal Or No Deal. At first, I didn't know why I was doing it, then I spent a good deal of time being absolutely frustrated, only to realize, at the end, there really wasn't any fucking point to any of it to begin with! If you don't know IE 7 came out a good while back but it might have slipped under yoru radar because it was released under the name of Mozilla Firefox back then. Sadly, the updated IE7 version of the popular Firefox browser is actually much worse than the leaner albeit older original. But at least the IE7 version totally fucks up my blog by putting the side bar at the very bottom of the blog which is a layout choice I never would have considered at first. My suggestion, steer clear of this updated version of the great browser and go with the classic instead. You can find it here.

Now I'm off to watch a few episodes of my recently purchased DVD of SuperFriends, Volume Two.


I wonder, is it just me or does Robin really have the legs of an Amazonian Goddess?

You've Got To Be Kidding Me

So I was digging around trying to find the article I read earlier about Anousheh Ansar, the lady that will one day make space flight affordable, when I came across an article about Light cigarettes instead. Apparently, the cigarette companies are getting sued once more for stating that "Light" cigarettes are better for you than regular cigarettes. It would seem that the tobacco companies knew that "Light" cigarette smokers tended to smoke more cigarettes, take longer drags, and, in general, just "smoke them harder" than they would regular cigarettes. In effect, because of how smokers smoked Light cigarettes, they were no less dangerous than smoking regular, hard-core, cigarettes. Popular opinion would probably agree with such a statement and to popular opinion I would say, "get a fucking clue!" I don't like cigarette companies, I think they are a bunch of profit-mongers just like most other large corporations but I don't blame them because they are not to blame. I don't like cigarettes either (although I am a social smoker and probably down about one a day on average...or used to when I had some semblance of a social life) but I don't believe we can just cheat the system in order to abolish cigarettes: which is what this is all about. Light cigarettes have less of the "evil" substances than regular cigarettes. If Light cigarette smokers end up smoking more or "harder" then what fault is it of the company selling the product? Really, how are they even able to actively promote Light cigarettes as being more healthy? Not by advertisement, since that money is spent on trying to get people to stop smoking (as ordered in the decree of the previous lawsuit). Not on their website either or by giving out cool shit since Marlboro Miles are worthless nowadays. Still, even if the lawsuit does end up going against the cigarette manufacturers, how will that change anything? Sure, they will stop selling Lights but they will just come out with Smooth or TT name instead which will be code for the same thing as Light. In the end, cigarettes will still be around and just as accessible as before. Why? Because as much as cigarette smokers are addicted to cigarettes, the government is just as addicted to all that yummy tax revenue from it's "sin" tax on the product, and those people constantly suing cigarette companies: they will get their little piece of the pie so that they can go out and buy a bunch of new shit and still feel like they are changing the world.

As for the thousands of teens who act like fools in cars and end up dying, shoot each other for no reason, take experimental drugs that can kill them instantly (and not years upon years later like cigarettes), and constantly think about taking their own life through suicide: well little is being done about that. But nobody should be blamed for not trying to stop any of that because, honestly, there just isn't any money in it.

Here's the article.

The Spoiled Giant & The Giddy Flea

When I first saw this pic the other day on a couple of different places, I assumed that it was a fake:

But after many hours of high end sprectro-analysis, imaging truthification software, and celebrity data purification logrithms, I believe that the picture is authentic. Actually, I just blew it up a bit on PhotoShop and looked around for some of that tell-tale doctoring. I couldn't find any but I really didn't look that hard. Still, it's an impressive picture because either Kate has turned into some type of Amazonian or Tom has morphed into some sort of mythical land creature (by my guess he's a wood nymph with a +2 to peppiness). Curious, I dabbled around trying to find another pic where these two look like the more popular version of David Spade dating....well, David Spade dating anybody really. I didn't find much of anything but they say Tom has some really impressive lifts in his shoes and he does wear high-heeled cowboy boots quite alot. Then I remembered that the above pic was taken outside of the United States and so I went that route and quickly came up with this beauty.

This one was also captured abroad, while Katie was late in the pregnancy. You can already see that she has grown significantly in height just during her pregnancy alone. What does this mean? I really haven't a fucking clue but my gut feeling is that Scientology is causing this perfect couple to mutate at a rapid level. While in the states it is obvious that they have the clout to distort the truth--much the same way John Travolta made people believe that Battlefield: Earth was a good idea even after the movie had been made. Overseas, however, they can't hide from the fact that they are turning into the planets first supervillains. I can only hope that Brad & Angelina's many humanitarian efforts can cause a burst of genetic mutation as well so that they can one day thwart the soon end to humanity as we know it.

I Guess Life Was Simpler Back Then

She had a fondness for stringing beans. Popping off the ends, pulling out the strings, and throwing each parts into identical buckets by her feet. She could sit on the porch chair and work in such a fashion for hours on end without a moments rest. Breaking, stringing, tossing the green beans into buckets from morning to night. As the buckets would fill, someone would replace them with empty ones and as the large bowl of unstrung beans dwindled down, someone would exchange it for a full one. She didn’t seem to notice though. She would only stare ahead, never looking at anything; never even looking at the green beans as her hands quickly popped off the ends, strung out the strings, separated the parts. My great-grandmother could remember only one thing of her past life. She could only remember how to string green beans.

--from the short story, Kids on the Farm, which I never finished because I....really, I don't know why I didn't finish it.

I Don't Like Pie....In Poem Form

Alright, its apparent that your not truly a blogger until you have penned some sort of really shitty ass poem that makes no fucking sense whatsoever. Thankfully, I am quite up to that task and so I give you the single crappiest poem I could put together in less than thirty minutes. For my muse, I used yesterday's pointless blog about pies.

I Don't Like Pie

Its hard to believe,
This I already know.
To admit to not liking
A true food for the soul.

Maybe I’m messed up...
You know, not right in the head.
Maybe I dislike pies
Because I’m not taking proper meds.

Or, maybe I was traumatized by a pie
Some time in my past,
And now I hate them all;
Because one made me a bigoted pie-hating ass!

Or, now here's an idea:
Aliens planted a probe in my bum
That makes me hates pies
And, oddly, spearmint-flavored gum.

It could be that I like pies,
I've just been brainwashed to believe
That pies taste like dirt
And I should eat more fried cheese.

Of course, if you were to ask me
To chance a guess on a dare,
I think that I don’t like pies
Because they really should be square.

Sure, you might be angry at me now for having you read that but five, ten, maybe twenty years from now you won't be a bit angry about it. Or maybe you will. Frankly, I don't give a shit because I'm certain that I won't have a fucking clue about it and that's the most important thing.

I Don't Like Pie

There I said it. I've been spending the past two hours trying to figure out how I could not say it but I can't lie to myself: I don't like pie. I've been keeping that fact secret for nearly twenty years now (or ever since I turned down a McDonald's fried apple pie, feigning a false need to immediately go pee) but with yet another holiday season fastly approaching, I think it might be better to just come out right now. I know it doesn't make much sense because pies look delicious and they are usually full of really good stuff but I'd sooner just not eat if the only thing offered was a pie. My mother makes these amazing White Christmas pies during the holidays that everybody raves about....I tried one once. It was covered in coconut, the single foulest-tasting fruit in existence, and I had to spend a good two minutes walking around before I found opportune chance to spit my one bite into a garbage bin. I've tried pumpkin pie because everybody says pumpkin pie is the pie of the "Fall Season" or some shit. It tasted like sugary mush. I can think of like a hundred things that are better than sugary mush. I once made a really awesome apple pie (only because I like to cook) that looked absolutey delicious....but I didn't eat it despite my family giving it rave reviews. Why didn't I eat it? Because I've been burned enough eating nasty-ass pies, that's why.

I'd sooner eat a buttery ear of sweet corn....which just happens to be the only thing I disdain more than pies.