I started working at Target last week. I am a security guard (like a rent-a-cop, but with an option to buy). As a Target employee, I get a discount when shopping there. Standard perk, but always nice to have. Well, Halloween is rapidly approaching and this is the first holiday my wife and I will celebrate as a couple (of course, I am working that night), and while Halloween isn't exactly a major holiday (hell even banks stay open, and they close for all kinds of holidays you have never heard of. If you can get a job with a bank or with the government, it's like getting 2 weeks extra off each year, just all spread out over 52 weeks. Still it's one hell of a sweet deal), it is something to note. Of more importance is that this is the first holiday in our new home, and since I was once a rambunctious tyke, I know that the neighborhood kids are going to decide who's homes and cars to vandalize for the next year based on what they get in their plastic pumpkin this coming Monday. In other words, don't be the asshole who gives out loose change, unless you are planning to give each kid at LEAST $2-3 in quarters. No dimes nickels or pennies. And no half dollars or silver dollars. Kids HATE those. All kids do. Don't ask why. If you are planning on giving out nickels, or even worse, 5 pennies taped together, expect all of them to be chipping the paint on your car and possibly breaking all of your windows before sunrise. It is a sad state of affairs, but it is true. So I need to get some quality candy. Snickers/Milky Way/M&M's, or Hersheys/Reeses/Mr. Goodbar. Something like that. A mixture of the two is okay, but you are better off picking one brand, so that the kids know what they are getting and can plan out trades with the other moochers accordingly. And since I get them at a discount, I know where I am getting my bribes from.
Also, since my wife and I are newlyweds, we want to wait at least a couple of years before we have kids, because once you have kids, you have no freedom. Everyone knows that, but it can't hurt to reinforce it. But since we both REALLY enjoy practicing making babies, we need some kind of way to keep one from pulling a "WHOOPSEE", and then it is Pampers City. Neither one of us is Catholic, so we wrap that rascal. And since I get an employee discount...
This leads to my first purchase (besides a soda during a break in orientation). Candy and condoms. As I was signing my check, I realized just how bad this looked. I can only hope that since I AM security, I can talk my boss out of contacting the proper authorities by explaining the situation. But even still, it is creepy, even to me.
One last shout out. A big "Thanks" to X-E Entertainment (the title link), for reminding me about the old ladies who used to think 5 pennies taped together was a treat. Even in the 70's that sucked. X-E is a great site, and the Halloween countdown should be required reading. You can spend a couple of days surfing through all the stuff on that site, and the nostalgia for the 80's warms my cynical little heart.
TYPE HARD! (sorry. That will be the last time. I promise. Talk to you all later).
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
TYPE HARD
My buddy Greg (more like a big brother than just a friend really) is not a big 'net guy. As such, when he finally looked at my blog the other day, he said it reminded him of Pump up the Volume . I had never thought of that, but it is absolutely true.
Also, the link above has nothing to do with the title. In fact, if I had thought about it I would have made the link to Pump up the Volume the link in the title, and made the link in the title just something I typed here. But dammit, I gotta be me! And the link of honor goes to Burger King (again). My fascination (which is bordering on obsession) with the King and his plastic face is reaching eic proportions. And the BK meals are reaching epic portions (HA!). It is a brilliant campaign and if General Zod winds up not running for president (ZOD FOR PRESIDENT 2008) , than I want the Burger King to be the ruler of the free world. A campaign of chicken fries and Meatnormous Omlettes would garner my vote (speaking of garner, I would also vote for James Garner in either a Presidential or vice-presidential ticket. In fact, if the King hires James Garner as his running mate, it might sway my vote from Zod).
I have another post to write, but it needs its own title, so I will go for now.
Also, the link above has nothing to do with the title. In fact, if I had thought about it I would have made the link to Pump up the Volume the link in the title, and made the link in the title just something I typed here. But dammit, I gotta be me! And the link of honor goes to Burger King (again). My fascination (which is bordering on obsession) with the King and his plastic face is reaching eic proportions. And the BK meals are reaching epic portions (HA!). It is a brilliant campaign and if General Zod winds up not running for president (ZOD FOR PRESIDENT 2008) , than I want the Burger King to be the ruler of the free world. A campaign of chicken fries and Meatnormous Omlettes would garner my vote (speaking of garner, I would also vote for James Garner in either a Presidential or vice-presidential ticket. In fact, if the King hires James Garner as his running mate, it might sway my vote from Zod).
I have another post to write, but it needs its own title, so I will go for now.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Welcome...TO THE RANDOM!!!
Random thoughts...
People who work for dental insurance companies based in Utah are all assholes and have the mental capacity of a squash. If we need a place to start thinning the herd in order to up the collective average of intelligence in our great nation, THAT should be the first place to go.
My lovely wife was wondering if I was talking about her in a previous post. She realized that I wasn't. I know she occasionally reads this, and I want her to know that I am about to talk about her. So here goes...I am a firm believer that snooze bars on alarm clocks were invented by Satan in order to help usher in the downfall of humanity and the onset of Armageddon. However, our addictive personality as a mass of humanity means that they are in all likelyhood here to stay, so I have to adapt to that. I use an alarm that has to be reset if I want to continue sleeping, and the annoyance of having to focus my thoughts enough to set the alarm, as well as having to squint because I don't wear contacts overnight and putting on glasses is akin to getting out of bed and shuffling off to the bathroom makes me get out of bed just because I don't want to deal with the damn thing. My wife (all of these thoughts feel like they should be in different paragraphs, but I am going to ignore my grammatical instinct for the moment) is a very sound sleeper. Sound enough that I have on more than one occasion held a mirror to her nose to make sure I wasn't a widower. She also likes to wake up approximately 6 hours before she has to, give or take a few hours (that is less of an exaggeration than you think). What is all of this leading to? Well, it means that every morning, for a good 30-45 minutes before I need to be rising from my rejuvanation ritual, I have to wake up to her alarm clock. Problem is, it won't wake her up half the time. And since I cannot Reed Richards' my arms over her to hit that damn snooze bar, I have to wake her up to tell her that her alarm is going off. At which point she rolls over, slaps the snooze bar and falls right back to sleep so that we can repeat the whole thing in 7 minutes. After the morning coffee has kicked in, its funny. At 5:38 AM, it's not. Luckily I gat my revenge each morning by getting to the bathroom first for my constitutional. THAT always wakes her up.
Speaking of the Armageddon, expect the world to end in about 12 months or so. Maybe a week or to either way. But unlike all the KoolAid swilling "I am the Messiah" spewing wackos out there, I am coming from a sense of reality. I am not claiming that God spoke to me or that I know who the Great Beast is. I AM saying that I know what the mark that we will be forced to wear is, and many are wearing it right now. Maybe even YOU. Sometime next year in late October or early November, the Cubs are going to win the World Series. Probably playing the Yankees. Or if you want a true feeling of terror, the Devil Rays. One is named after Satan, one is owned by him. So either one will fulfill the prophecy. A couple of years ago, when both the Red Sox and the Cubs were in the playoffs and it looked like an inevitable showdown, I thought that the end would come during Game 7 of their World Series. Game tied, bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, two outs, full count, he whole nine yards. It didn't matter which team was at bat. The pitched would throw a mighty fastball, which the hitter would connect with, driving the ball to straight center. The center fielder races back, prepared to make his leap. Does it have the distance? MILLIONS of people stand silent around the worls, watching to see what happens. Suddenly, a giant fiery hand reaches up and catches the ball, the center fielder, and the entire left field bleachers. Bing Bang Boom we have the Rapture. When both teams were less than one inning from making the World Series, I maxed out my credit card and planned to head to Vegas for one final week of debauchery. If I was gonna die, I was gonna go in style, with all you can eat prime rib for $10 and hookers that cost 20x that much (no, I wasn't married yet. We were dating, but I wasn't as sure of the outcome of the relationship at the time, plus, I figured her for a "stay w/her mom and be close until they are called" kinda girl. Now I can ride her coattails straight to Heaven. Yay for loopholes!). But when both were eliminated, I realized that it wouldn't be that simple. When the Red Sox won last year I thought we might be approaching cataclysm, but nothing happened. I figured maybe it was not that one (Cubs and Red Sox) would finally win one, but that BOTH had to win one for it to happen. So I waited patiently this year for the Cubs to break out and storm into the postseason and bring an end to humanity. If I had known they were going to do no such thing, I would have cut back on wedding expenses and just rented tuxes instead of going for the full kilt and accessories. Anyway, it was curious. That is when it hit me. There are 3 teams that need redemption before God can call us home.
At this time, I want to make it clear that while I am much more of a football fan than I am baseball, there are no tortured teams in the NFL. No teams with 80+ years of futility. So as much as I would rather watch football on the final day of existence, I will be tuned into the baseball game. With a room full of friends, and plenty of pizza, wings, chips and pretzels, and beer. Even my friends who have stopped drinking for whatever reason wil be joining in for a final toast. There are no 12 step programs in heaven (and in hell, you are forced to listen to Dr. Phil, so you will probably need the booze).
Anyway, I forgot about the White Sox! Satan is a sneaky bastard (I still won't eat apples. It's my way of keeping him at bay), and he knew that we would all think "CUBS AND RED SOX", and forget about the South Siders. Well BeezleBub, I am on to you. 365 days or so, and then it is Revelations time. If you want to refi w/an interest only loan and start spending the kids college funds, go for it. And fuck choloeserol. Have some sausage on your bacon. Fry that Thanksgiving turkey! Eggs and guacamole with EVERY meal! Ice Cream and whole milk. What's the worst that could happen, you miss living through hell, and instead watch it on God's 500ft widescreen digital plasma screen with the DLP technology and surround sound while eating anything you want and spending quality time with all the ones you loved, and all the ones you tried to love but got turned down (you have your Heaven, I have mine).
I have more, but I will get to it later.
People who work for dental insurance companies based in Utah are all assholes and have the mental capacity of a squash. If we need a place to start thinning the herd in order to up the collective average of intelligence in our great nation, THAT should be the first place to go.
My lovely wife was wondering if I was talking about her in a previous post. She realized that I wasn't. I know she occasionally reads this, and I want her to know that I am about to talk about her. So here goes...I am a firm believer that snooze bars on alarm clocks were invented by Satan in order to help usher in the downfall of humanity and the onset of Armageddon. However, our addictive personality as a mass of humanity means that they are in all likelyhood here to stay, so I have to adapt to that. I use an alarm that has to be reset if I want to continue sleeping, and the annoyance of having to focus my thoughts enough to set the alarm, as well as having to squint because I don't wear contacts overnight and putting on glasses is akin to getting out of bed and shuffling off to the bathroom makes me get out of bed just because I don't want to deal with the damn thing. My wife (all of these thoughts feel like they should be in different paragraphs, but I am going to ignore my grammatical instinct for the moment) is a very sound sleeper. Sound enough that I have on more than one occasion held a mirror to her nose to make sure I wasn't a widower. She also likes to wake up approximately 6 hours before she has to, give or take a few hours (that is less of an exaggeration than you think). What is all of this leading to? Well, it means that every morning, for a good 30-45 minutes before I need to be rising from my rejuvanation ritual, I have to wake up to her alarm clock. Problem is, it won't wake her up half the time. And since I cannot Reed Richards' my arms over her to hit that damn snooze bar, I have to wake her up to tell her that her alarm is going off. At which point she rolls over, slaps the snooze bar and falls right back to sleep so that we can repeat the whole thing in 7 minutes. After the morning coffee has kicked in, its funny. At 5:38 AM, it's not. Luckily I gat my revenge each morning by getting to the bathroom first for my constitutional. THAT always wakes her up.
Speaking of the Armageddon, expect the world to end in about 12 months or so. Maybe a week or to either way. But unlike all the KoolAid swilling "I am the Messiah" spewing wackos out there, I am coming from a sense of reality. I am not claiming that God spoke to me or that I know who the Great Beast is. I AM saying that I know what the mark that we will be forced to wear is, and many are wearing it right now. Maybe even YOU. Sometime next year in late October or early November, the Cubs are going to win the World Series. Probably playing the Yankees. Or if you want a true feeling of terror, the Devil Rays. One is named after Satan, one is owned by him. So either one will fulfill the prophecy. A couple of years ago, when both the Red Sox and the Cubs were in the playoffs and it looked like an inevitable showdown, I thought that the end would come during Game 7 of their World Series. Game tied, bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, two outs, full count, he whole nine yards. It didn't matter which team was at bat. The pitched would throw a mighty fastball, which the hitter would connect with, driving the ball to straight center. The center fielder races back, prepared to make his leap. Does it have the distance? MILLIONS of people stand silent around the worls, watching to see what happens. Suddenly, a giant fiery hand reaches up and catches the ball, the center fielder, and the entire left field bleachers. Bing Bang Boom we have the Rapture. When both teams were less than one inning from making the World Series, I maxed out my credit card and planned to head to Vegas for one final week of debauchery. If I was gonna die, I was gonna go in style, with all you can eat prime rib for $10 and hookers that cost 20x that much (no, I wasn't married yet. We were dating, but I wasn't as sure of the outcome of the relationship at the time, plus, I figured her for a "stay w/her mom and be close until they are called" kinda girl. Now I can ride her coattails straight to Heaven. Yay for loopholes!). But when both were eliminated, I realized that it wouldn't be that simple. When the Red Sox won last year I thought we might be approaching cataclysm, but nothing happened. I figured maybe it was not that one (Cubs and Red Sox) would finally win one, but that BOTH had to win one for it to happen. So I waited patiently this year for the Cubs to break out and storm into the postseason and bring an end to humanity. If I had known they were going to do no such thing, I would have cut back on wedding expenses and just rented tuxes instead of going for the full kilt and accessories. Anyway, it was curious. That is when it hit me. There are 3 teams that need redemption before God can call us home.
At this time, I want to make it clear that while I am much more of a football fan than I am baseball, there are no tortured teams in the NFL. No teams with 80+ years of futility. So as much as I would rather watch football on the final day of existence, I will be tuned into the baseball game. With a room full of friends, and plenty of pizza, wings, chips and pretzels, and beer. Even my friends who have stopped drinking for whatever reason wil be joining in for a final toast. There are no 12 step programs in heaven (and in hell, you are forced to listen to Dr. Phil, so you will probably need the booze).
Anyway, I forgot about the White Sox! Satan is a sneaky bastard (I still won't eat apples. It's my way of keeping him at bay), and he knew that we would all think "CUBS AND RED SOX", and forget about the South Siders. Well BeezleBub, I am on to you. 365 days or so, and then it is Revelations time. If you want to refi w/an interest only loan and start spending the kids college funds, go for it. And fuck choloeserol. Have some sausage on your bacon. Fry that Thanksgiving turkey! Eggs and guacamole with EVERY meal! Ice Cream and whole milk. What's the worst that could happen, you miss living through hell, and instead watch it on God's 500ft widescreen digital plasma screen with the DLP technology and surround sound while eating anything you want and spending quality time with all the ones you loved, and all the ones you tried to love but got turned down (you have your Heaven, I have mine).
I have more, but I will get to it later.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Okay, I lied. No post after Oktoberfest. No post from work Monday. I hope all of you reading this self masturbation understand and forgive me.
Not too much to go into. I had some good post ideas yesterday, but couldn't get the time to log in and write 'em. I am enjoying the show that is Asian Mustard Lady (forevermore known here as Mustard. I was gonna call her ASL, but then it feels like I am trying to cyber with all of you every time I type it). She is having issues with other hospital employees causing her to have to repeat work she has already done. Also, she is getting the runaround from Blue Cross (which for those of you who don't know, is about as regular as a man in a Metamucil drinking contest). She is getting very frustuated, and as a result she keeps muting her phone to vent "under her breath" (but I can hear just fine), than goign back and starting over. I shant repeat the comments, but trust me when I say they are priceless. My favorite is **press hold button** "Sugar Honey Iced Tea! I did not say that to them! I would NEVER say that!" **take person off hold**, I'm sorry. Do you have documentation of that conversation? I think I would recall that...". The whole time I am watching her do a slow burn that would make Jack Benny proud (and if you don't know who that is, well that's just awful). I love using Sugar Honey Iced Tea as way of cussing without cussing. THAT makes it all worthwhile.
If you like comic books, or just really damn funny web pages, go to www.superdickery.com . I will soon be making that a permanent link, as it is THAT good of a site and it updates fairly regularly (as much as his job will allow. With options like "Superman is a Dick", and "Everything is Better With Monkeys", it will entertain for HOURS (longer if you use dial-up)
*****SPECIAL I AM A WHORE ANNOUNCEMENT*****
As soon as I get the logistics worked out, I will be opening my new CafePress store. Soon you can be as snarky as me, and in 100% pre-shrunk cotton! GET TO KNOW ME!!!!! (credit to Jon Lovitz)
This post has been the suck, I will strive to do better next time. Hopefully I will have something worth writing about. But with my life, you never know.
Not too much to go into. I had some good post ideas yesterday, but couldn't get the time to log in and write 'em. I am enjoying the show that is Asian Mustard Lady (forevermore known here as Mustard. I was gonna call her ASL, but then it feels like I am trying to cyber with all of you every time I type it). She is having issues with other hospital employees causing her to have to repeat work she has already done. Also, she is getting the runaround from Blue Cross (which for those of you who don't know, is about as regular as a man in a Metamucil drinking contest). She is getting very frustuated, and as a result she keeps muting her phone to vent "under her breath" (but I can hear just fine), than goign back and starting over. I shant repeat the comments, but trust me when I say they are priceless. My favorite is **press hold button** "Sugar Honey Iced Tea! I did not say that to them! I would NEVER say that!" **take person off hold**, I'm sorry. Do you have documentation of that conversation? I think I would recall that...". The whole time I am watching her do a slow burn that would make Jack Benny proud (and if you don't know who that is, well that's just awful). I love using Sugar Honey Iced Tea as way of cussing without cussing. THAT makes it all worthwhile.
If you like comic books, or just really damn funny web pages, go to www.superdickery.com . I will soon be making that a permanent link, as it is THAT good of a site and it updates fairly regularly (as much as his job will allow. With options like "Superman is a Dick", and "Everything is Better With Monkeys", it will entertain for HOURS (longer if you use dial-up)
*****SPECIAL I AM A WHORE ANNOUNCEMENT*****
As soon as I get the logistics worked out, I will be opening my new CafePress store. Soon you can be as snarky as me, and in 100% pre-shrunk cotton! GET TO KNOW ME!!!!! (credit to Jon Lovitz)
This post has been the suck, I will strive to do better next time. Hopefully I will have something worth writing about. But with my life, you never know.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Have murder your way
The link is not the commercial I am about to refer to, but on the off chance you have no idea what I am talkling about when I reference the creepy Burger King, now you will be able to fathom the character.
Personally, I think the new Burger King ads are freaking hilarious. The giant headed King with a case of Perma-grin makes me laugh every time I see one of the spots. Until recently.
The latest commercial I have seen is for BK coffee, or "joe" as they are calling it. I DO like the fact that they are trying to bring back the nickname "joe" for coffee. I have always liked dime store novel terminology and would like to see more of it. Humphrey Bogart is due for an upturn in nostalgia and reverence. As long as they leave the song "Key Largo" out of the montage.
Anyway, the newest commercial starts with a construction worker on a high rise site, driving rivets into some framework. Once again, the face of the King peers around a girder, all grinning and happy. He hands the worker a large cup of coffee.
In BK's attempt to reach out more to the average man who wants more bang for the buck, they have 3 kinds of coffee...decaf, regular, and extra-strength. It goes alongf with the Ultimate Whopper and Meatnourmous Omlette (Which by the way is MIGHTY tasty). Extra strength coffee is a good idea, and I am surprised one of the big companies hasn't thought of it before.
But HERE is where it gets truly macabre. After the obligitory cut away to the "action shots" of coffee being brewed and poured into waiting cups, all hot and steamy and inviting, they cut back to the King and the construction worker standing on a girder, HIGH above the streets. and the King PUSHES THE CONSTRUCTION WORKER, WHO MOMENTARILY LOSES HIS BALANCE BEFORE RECOVERING. The King just attempted homicide! And the construction worker gives him a dirty look, then the King does that two handed point gesture, as if to say "GOTCHA", and the construction worker starts laughing! Either he is a moron or that is ONE DAMN GOOD CUP OF COFFEE! For me, I don't care how good the coffee is, I am not to fond of attempts on my life. I don't care how much of a cultural icon you were or are.
By the way, does anyone else remember when BK used the King back in the 70's and 80's? He would go to different chains and do magic shows? I used to have a collection of his (whatever they called Happy Meals in BK) toys. I LOVED the magic water jug.
I might be going to an Oktoberfest in a little while. If I do, I will have to come back with my drunken ramblings tonight. If not, well, who knows. Definitely no later than when I get bored at work on Monday.
Personally, I think the new Burger King ads are freaking hilarious. The giant headed King with a case of Perma-grin makes me laugh every time I see one of the spots. Until recently.
The latest commercial I have seen is for BK coffee, or "joe" as they are calling it. I DO like the fact that they are trying to bring back the nickname "joe" for coffee. I have always liked dime store novel terminology and would like to see more of it. Humphrey Bogart is due for an upturn in nostalgia and reverence. As long as they leave the song "Key Largo" out of the montage.
Anyway, the newest commercial starts with a construction worker on a high rise site, driving rivets into some framework. Once again, the face of the King peers around a girder, all grinning and happy. He hands the worker a large cup of coffee.
In BK's attempt to reach out more to the average man who wants more bang for the buck, they have 3 kinds of coffee...decaf, regular, and extra-strength. It goes alongf with the Ultimate Whopper and Meatnourmous Omlette (Which by the way is MIGHTY tasty). Extra strength coffee is a good idea, and I am surprised one of the big companies hasn't thought of it before.
But HERE is where it gets truly macabre. After the obligitory cut away to the "action shots" of coffee being brewed and poured into waiting cups, all hot and steamy and inviting, they cut back to the King and the construction worker standing on a girder, HIGH above the streets. and the King PUSHES THE CONSTRUCTION WORKER, WHO MOMENTARILY LOSES HIS BALANCE BEFORE RECOVERING. The King just attempted homicide! And the construction worker gives him a dirty look, then the King does that two handed point gesture, as if to say "GOTCHA", and the construction worker starts laughing! Either he is a moron or that is ONE DAMN GOOD CUP OF COFFEE! For me, I don't care how good the coffee is, I am not to fond of attempts on my life. I don't care how much of a cultural icon you were or are.
By the way, does anyone else remember when BK used the King back in the 70's and 80's? He would go to different chains and do magic shows? I used to have a collection of his (whatever they called Happy Meals in BK) toys. I LOVED the magic water jug.
I might be going to an Oktoberfest in a little while. If I do, I will have to come back with my drunken ramblings tonight. If not, well, who knows. Definitely no later than when I get bored at work on Monday.
Friday, October 14, 2005
If you click on enough things, something will eventually happen
But is it a good thing? I thought I had figured out how to make my pic seen on this thing. I followed some link and even downloaded some program onto my computer here at work (technically a no-no, but the firewall didn't stop it so screw 'em!). And now, instead of one photo floating in the e-ether, I have 7 or 8 of them that will end up on some German fetish site. DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I haven't slept since I woke up on Thursday at 6:30 in the morning. I have had 2 24 ounce cups of coffee and about a half gallon of diet green tea. The only reason I am still blinking right now is because my contacts would dry up if I didn't. Other than that it is completely unnecessary (that looks wrong, but I don't care right now). So maybe I am missing an obvious step here. But I will be damned if I know what it is.
I just had to change the water bottle for the basement dwellers. I call it "Post Femenist Role Playing". The exact quote was "Ron! We need a he-man over here!". That is code for "lift something heavy". I have no problem being typecast into roles, and I would much rather be the he-man than the guy who can't lift a 2 liter Coke w/out a spotter. That being said, it still kind of grates me that a lot of women fall into that "damsel needs help" role when it suits them and are Gloria Swanson with a shot of Ernest Hemmingway the rest of the time. And before I start getting flamed on this, I am not saying women are helpless and need a man's help. Genetically I can lift heavier things easier than the women down here can. There IS a reason the first part of my name id "Big". It is just the approach taken that irks me. But God forbid I pat them on the ass and give 'em a little wolf whistle when they saunter by. Then I am the bad guy...
And now a few more fun words...
Whoopee (only when you say it with conviction, otherwise ironic detachment ruins it)
Garbanzo
Bosom (sp?) (either the buddy or the boobies, to quote Martha Stewart, "It's a GOOD thing...)
Gazpacho
Boullibase (sp?)
really all foreign soups are fun to say. Egg Drop (a cross between funny and nasty), WonTon (say it out loud. Over ennunciate it. you will wind up giggling) Borschst (aww, you know I can't spell for crap by now, I'm tired of apologizing for it. You want proper grammar? Go read a dictionary and get off my back!). Borschst might not be a soup, but to the best of my knowledge it is very soup like and a main ingredient is beets. Is your mouth watering as much as mine is right now?
Happy Friday SUCKAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(ones on purpose. That always makes me giggle too. I am not right in the head.)
I haven't slept since I woke up on Thursday at 6:30 in the morning. I have had 2 24 ounce cups of coffee and about a half gallon of diet green tea. The only reason I am still blinking right now is because my contacts would dry up if I didn't. Other than that it is completely unnecessary (that looks wrong, but I don't care right now). So maybe I am missing an obvious step here. But I will be damned if I know what it is.
I just had to change the water bottle for the basement dwellers. I call it "Post Femenist Role Playing". The exact quote was "Ron! We need a he-man over here!". That is code for "lift something heavy". I have no problem being typecast into roles, and I would much rather be the he-man than the guy who can't lift a 2 liter Coke w/out a spotter. That being said, it still kind of grates me that a lot of women fall into that "damsel needs help" role when it suits them and are Gloria Swanson with a shot of Ernest Hemmingway the rest of the time. And before I start getting flamed on this, I am not saying women are helpless and need a man's help. Genetically I can lift heavier things easier than the women down here can. There IS a reason the first part of my name id "Big". It is just the approach taken that irks me. But God forbid I pat them on the ass and give 'em a little wolf whistle when they saunter by. Then I am the bad guy...
And now a few more fun words...
Whoopee (only when you say it with conviction, otherwise ironic detachment ruins it)
Garbanzo
Bosom (sp?) (either the buddy or the boobies, to quote Martha Stewart, "It's a GOOD thing...)
Gazpacho
Boullibase (sp?)
really all foreign soups are fun to say. Egg Drop (a cross between funny and nasty), WonTon (say it out loud. Over ennunciate it. you will wind up giggling) Borschst (aww, you know I can't spell for crap by now, I'm tired of apologizing for it. You want proper grammar? Go read a dictionary and get off my back!). Borschst might not be a soup, but to the best of my knowledge it is very soup like and a main ingredient is beets. Is your mouth watering as much as mine is right now?
Happy Friday SUCKAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(ones on purpose. That always makes me giggle too. I am not right in the head.)
Thursday, October 13, 2005
A change of pace
I have been rather negative, or at least snippy, in my last few posts. I intend to (for at least THIS post) be much more positive in my ranting. And to show the level of my sincerity, this post is entirely dedicated to words I think are fun to say. This may wind up being a few posts depending on my workload today. But no matter what, I am going to think positive here! So without further ado...
Jarlsburg
Rattattouille (sp?)
Contusion
Smock
Intravenous (sounds kinda dirty, don't it?)
Melanoma (sp?)
Guacamole
Asanine (Asinine? me no spell good now)
...more to come
Jarlsburg
Rattattouille (sp?)
Contusion
Smock
Intravenous (sounds kinda dirty, don't it?)
Melanoma (sp?)
Guacamole
Asanine (Asinine? me no spell good now)
...more to come
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Halloween Update
As I was typing my last post, I was approached by Asian Mustard Lover. She told me that he basement is doing "Willy Wonka and the (insert hospital name here) Factory. She didn't mention what part they wanted me for. Dental left me a voice mail yesterday after hours (they didn't want anyone hearing their idea. Now do you comprehend the depths of my pain?) saying they were doing "Annie" and if I shave my head I can be Daddy Warbucks. Let me make sure you caught that. If I Shave My Head I Can Be Daddy Warbucks. In the vain hope of winning a pizza party for the office (pizza made by the cafeteria. The cheap bastards won't even spring for Papa John's) worth $100 (oooh...ahhhhh), they want me to actually shave my head.
I can't wait to see what the hospital has planned for Rammadan.
I can't wait to see what the hospital has planned for Rammadan.
Star Wars soundtrack in my office
First let me say that I am not a huge fan of science fiction. I watched Star Trek reruns with my father when I was a kid, and as such anything with that moniker has a place in my heart. And anyone in my general age group knows that Star Wars was not a movie, it was a cultural phenomenon (sp?), and as such I have the original trilogy pretty much memorized backwards and forward. That being said, I really wish for some kind of Cone of Silence (RIP Don Adams). All day long there are keyboards clacking, phones ringing, copiers and fax machines beeping and feeding paper (loudly), and since IT (the computer people, not the scary clown coming to kill us all) is on this floor, all of the extra bells and whistles from constantly seting up new computers and troubleshooting the old ones cascades down from the ceiling tiles like a cacophony of white noise drowning out my will to live. Or at least my will to work. And as the day goes on, little things start to give me my own Excedrin Headache #9. Like the lady who works in the cubicle across from me who, even though she has a wireless headset, constantly uses the speaker option on the phone. To dial AND to talk. And because of the inordinate amount of background noise, she has to almost yell to be heard. If it wasn't for the mandatory 5 day waiting period...
And then there is gossip. WARNING: EXTREME USE OF GENERALITIES AHEAD. My office is mainly women. There is a pocket of guys over in IT, but they stay to themselves and always travel in packs to avoid all possible human contact. It's like The Phantom of The Opera, only with a degree from Strayer. So in actuality, I am the only guy in the immediate area without a door I can shut when the hens start clucking. And boy do they cluck. They surf the 'net while on hold, and ANYTHING that catches their eye is immediately cannon fodder for a minimum of 30 minutes up to 2-3 hours of "Gurrll, did you hear about..." and "Oh my God listen to this..." and my personal favorite "Oh sh*#! Oh no he/she did NOT! No WAY!..." They will do this until SOMEONE asks them what has got them so riled up. Have you ever been in the store when a kid is trying to get his/her mother to buy them something so they just start saying "Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom..." until you are ready to either buy the damn kid the box of SpongeBob fruit snacks just so you can shove the entire box (not the contents of the box, but the actual box) in the kids mouth? Are you one of those parents that have a child that does that? How do you block it out? What zen mind technique allows you to block out that annoying sound? A little help here? Anyway, that kid's technique for getting the Frosted Cheerios is the same technique that is used here so that we can all learn that Britney Spears and her husband what's his name (the greasy wanna be pimp with the I'm 15 and can almost grow a beard looking facial hair) have hired his ex to be their nanny. Thank GOD I found that out now. It is so much more important than my call to Utah to line up insurance coverage for a special needs patient to have necessary surgery.
To give you an idea of just how banal my office conversation has become, I just sat through a 20 minute discussion on mustard. Yup, I said mustard. It turns out the lady across the aisle LOVES "that Asian mustard". From the other side of the cubicle wall comes "You know what I use? (no but I am about to know, ain't I?) I love that honey dijon kind in the squeeze bottle". Lather. Rinse. Repeat. This is a HOSPITAL! I am not so naive as to think that we work at St. Elsewhere or anything, but DAMN! Can't we at least throw in a few medical terms once in a while so we don't sound like complete morons? If we are going to have Tarantino on qualuudes (sp?) conversations all day, can we at least go full out and go Scrubs here? I want the residents to walk into swinging doors and for someone to sit on a needle full of novocaine so their butt goes numb, with hilarious results. THEN AND ONLY THEN can we have dissertations on mustard.
If you work in an office, especially a cubicle, and you haven't seen the movie Office Space yet, you are a fool. Do it right now. Leave work, go to Blockbuster, and rent it. Otherwise you will not appreciate the brilliance of this website http://www.bullshitjob.com/officespace/ .
More and more I am FOR drinking on the job.
And then there is gossip. WARNING: EXTREME USE OF GENERALITIES AHEAD. My office is mainly women. There is a pocket of guys over in IT, but they stay to themselves and always travel in packs to avoid all possible human contact. It's like The Phantom of The Opera, only with a degree from Strayer. So in actuality, I am the only guy in the immediate area without a door I can shut when the hens start clucking. And boy do they cluck. They surf the 'net while on hold, and ANYTHING that catches their eye is immediately cannon fodder for a minimum of 30 minutes up to 2-3 hours of "Gurrll, did you hear about..." and "Oh my God listen to this..." and my personal favorite "Oh sh*#! Oh no he/she did NOT! No WAY!..." They will do this until SOMEONE asks them what has got them so riled up. Have you ever been in the store when a kid is trying to get his/her mother to buy them something so they just start saying "Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom..." until you are ready to either buy the damn kid the box of SpongeBob fruit snacks just so you can shove the entire box (not the contents of the box, but the actual box) in the kids mouth? Are you one of those parents that have a child that does that? How do you block it out? What zen mind technique allows you to block out that annoying sound? A little help here? Anyway, that kid's technique for getting the Frosted Cheerios is the same technique that is used here so that we can all learn that Britney Spears and her husband what's his name (the greasy wanna be pimp with the I'm 15 and can almost grow a beard looking facial hair) have hired his ex to be their nanny. Thank GOD I found that out now. It is so much more important than my call to Utah to line up insurance coverage for a special needs patient to have necessary surgery.
To give you an idea of just how banal my office conversation has become, I just sat through a 20 minute discussion on mustard. Yup, I said mustard. It turns out the lady across the aisle LOVES "that Asian mustard". From the other side of the cubicle wall comes "You know what I use? (no but I am about to know, ain't I?) I love that honey dijon kind in the squeeze bottle". Lather. Rinse. Repeat. This is a HOSPITAL! I am not so naive as to think that we work at St. Elsewhere or anything, but DAMN! Can't we at least throw in a few medical terms once in a while so we don't sound like complete morons? If we are going to have Tarantino on qualuudes (sp?) conversations all day, can we at least go full out and go Scrubs here? I want the residents to walk into swinging doors and for someone to sit on a needle full of novocaine so their butt goes numb, with hilarious results. THEN AND ONLY THEN can we have dissertations on mustard.
If you work in an office, especially a cubicle, and you haven't seen the movie Office Space yet, you are a fool. Do it right now. Leave work, go to Blockbuster, and rent it. Otherwise you will not appreciate the brilliance of this website http://www.bullshitjob.com/officespace/ .
More and more I am FOR drinking on the job.
Monday, October 10, 2005
I work in a hospital. One of the unseen masses in the basement collecting money from insurance companies, patients, and whenever necessary, guys named Rocko. To be more exact, I handle the billing and collections for the dental office. Why is any of this at ALL important? Well, it probably isn't. But I am going to tell you about the wheeling and dealing and backstabbing of a major hospital, all in the realm of Halloween and bragging rights.
Every year the hospital has a Halloween costume/department decoration contest. The dental department REALLY likes winning this contest. They like winning ALL hospital contests. It's like a really big spirit squad with needles and laughing gas. Well, apparently last year they didn't win the Halloween contest (I say apparently because I was not hear last year at Halloween. But they have been grumbling about it and planning their conquest of the 2005 crown since March. I am NOT exaggerating.
Now as I said, I work for the dental department, but I am not in the dental office. I am in fact in the business office. Now both offices are trying to claim me and use me in the Halloween Party/Costume Show (and before you ask, it is not a children's hospital. THAT would make WAY too much sense). You see, I am an actor/comedian who has a day job to pay the bills (and a night job to pay the rest of them). Both offices are severely lacking in people who majored in theatre in college. Both think they can use me to make an ass of myself and win the prize (which is something like lunch from the cafeteria, but "catered" in the conference room. Balogna is so much more elegant on silver-looking plastic trays).
There is one thing they are not thinking about though. I do not act like an ass without proper motivation. Even the slimmest chance it will further my career as a performer, no problem. Trying to entertain a bunch of rad techs and physical therapists so I can have a sit down lunch worth about $2.39 / person retail? Not so much. Someone from one of the offices will have to sweeten the pot, or I will pull a Switzerland and call myself neutral. And make chocolate and watches. And hide stolen property in my unnamed bank accounts.
Excepting that all my bank accounts are empty.
Every year the hospital has a Halloween costume/department decoration contest. The dental department REALLY likes winning this contest. They like winning ALL hospital contests. It's like a really big spirit squad with needles and laughing gas. Well, apparently last year they didn't win the Halloween contest (I say apparently because I was not hear last year at Halloween. But they have been grumbling about it and planning their conquest of the 2005 crown since March. I am NOT exaggerating.
Now as I said, I work for the dental department, but I am not in the dental office. I am in fact in the business office. Now both offices are trying to claim me and use me in the Halloween Party/Costume Show (and before you ask, it is not a children's hospital. THAT would make WAY too much sense). You see, I am an actor/comedian who has a day job to pay the bills (and a night job to pay the rest of them). Both offices are severely lacking in people who majored in theatre in college. Both think they can use me to make an ass of myself and win the prize (which is something like lunch from the cafeteria, but "catered" in the conference room. Balogna is so much more elegant on silver-looking plastic trays).
There is one thing they are not thinking about though. I do not act like an ass without proper motivation. Even the slimmest chance it will further my career as a performer, no problem. Trying to entertain a bunch of rad techs and physical therapists so I can have a sit down lunch worth about $2.39 / person retail? Not so much. Someone from one of the offices will have to sweeten the pot, or I will pull a Switzerland and call myself neutral. And make chocolate and watches. And hide stolen property in my unnamed bank accounts.
Excepting that all my bank accounts are empty.
Lunch time politics
I work in a hospital. One of the unseen masses in the basement collecting money from insurance companies, patients, and whenever necessary, guys named Rocko. To be more exact, I handle the billing and collections for the dental office. Why is any of this at ALL important? Well, it probably isn't. But I am going to tell you about the wheeling and dealing and backstabbing of a major hospital, all in the realm of Halloween and bragging rights.
Every year the hospital has a Halloween costume/department decoration contest. The dental department REALLY likes winning this contest. They like winning ALL hospital contests. It's like a really big spirit squad with needles and laughing gas. Well, apparently last year they didn't win the Halloween contest (I say apparently because I was not hear last year at Halloween. But they have been grumbling about it and planning their conquest of the 2005 crown since March. I am NOT exaggerating.
Now as I said, I work for the dental department, but I am not in the dental office. I am in fact in the business office. Now both offices are trying to claim me and use me in the Halloween Party/Costume Show (and before you ask, it is not a children's hospital. THAT would make WAY too much sense). You see, I am an actor/comedian who has a day job to pay the bills (and a night job to pay the rest of them). Both offices are severely lacking in people who majored in theatre in college. Both think they can use me to make an ass of myself and win the prize (which is something like lunch from the cafeteria, but "catered" in the conference room. Balogna is so much more elegant on silver-looking plastic trays).
There is one thing they are not thinking about though. I do not act like an ass without proper motivation. Even the slimmest chance it will further my career as a performer, no problem. Trying to entertain a bunch of rad techs and physical therapists so I can have a sit down lunch worth about $2.39 / person retail? Not so much. Someone from one of the offices will have to sweeten the pot, or I will pull a Switzerland and call myself neutral. And make chocolate and watches. And hide stolen property in my unnamed bank accounts.
Excepting that all my bank accounts are empty.
Every year the hospital has a Halloween costume/department decoration contest. The dental department REALLY likes winning this contest. They like winning ALL hospital contests. It's like a really big spirit squad with needles and laughing gas. Well, apparently last year they didn't win the Halloween contest (I say apparently because I was not hear last year at Halloween. But they have been grumbling about it and planning their conquest of the 2005 crown since March. I am NOT exaggerating.
Now as I said, I work for the dental department, but I am not in the dental office. I am in fact in the business office. Now both offices are trying to claim me and use me in the Halloween Party/Costume Show (and before you ask, it is not a children's hospital. THAT would make WAY too much sense). You see, I am an actor/comedian who has a day job to pay the bills (and a night job to pay the rest of them). Both offices are severely lacking in people who majored in theatre in college. Both think they can use me to make an ass of myself and win the prize (which is something like lunch from the cafeteria, but "catered" in the conference room. Balogna is so much more elegant on silver-looking plastic trays).
There is one thing they are not thinking about though. I do not act like an ass without proper motivation. Even the slimmest chance it will further my career as a performer, no problem. Trying to entertain a bunch of rad techs and physical therapists so I can have a sit down lunch worth about $2.39 / person retail? Not so much. Someone from one of the offices will have to sweeten the pot, or I will pull a Switzerland and call myself neutral. And make chocolate and watches. And hide stolen property in my unnamed bank accounts.
Excepting that all my bank accounts are empty.
Weekend Update
It is just past 10:30 am on Monday, and I really need to get to work, seeing as I AM at work right now. But I am tired and just not in the mood to crunch numbers right now. So I figured I would post again while the whole blog thing is still new and "exciting" to me.
Went to the friend's birthday party on Friday. Drove through Noah level flood waters to do it. It was okay. I know the birthday girl because she is my wife's friend, and so I knew very few people there. There was this very friendly older gentleman (bald head, glasses and hawaiian shirt. A look I cannot pull off no matte how hard I try). He found out I have friends from Maine, and within 30 seconds of conversation he offered me the opportunity to join him in his car for some non-tobacco smoking. I guess that is ONE way to make friends and influence people. I didn't know I came off as quite that herbal.
Saturday was the comedy show for the troupe I am in and ANOTHER friend's birthday party in a bar (personally I think my crowd is getting too old to be going to Federal Hill and bar-hopping until last call. I know I am too old and cranky to deal with a throng of 22 year olds singing along to Sweet Caroline. Off-key. You are 22 and have no way to have an appreciation of the genius that is Neil Diamond. Until you can have an honest debate between the merits of Cherry Cherry versus the need for a commercial success that spawned Turn on Your Heartlight, you should not be allowed to bellow "BUM-BUM-BUM" at the top of your lungs while spilling your Michelob Ultra on my shoes). Thank God Dave was there to talk to.
And how did the show go, I hear you asking? I am so glad you asked. It went pretty well overall. I would give the show a B-, myself a C+. It was the first show with the new cast members (at least some of them), and it was a little ragged. I would get into more in depth nalysis of the show and my performance in particular, but none of you give a shit about that. So unless you beg me (and as of right now I do not believe anybody has even noticed the existence of my little exercise in the egotistic thought that anybody would give two craps about my opinions and my life, so I don't think there will be any begging anytime soon), it ain't gonna happen.
Sunday brought the Raven's game. And at about the end of the 3rd quarter, a movie because I just couldn't watch anymore. I am in no way a fair weather fan. I still support my teams. I haven't abandoned the Orioles or the Cubs or Nebraska Football, and I am not going to abandon the Ravens. But even with that, what a HORRIBLE game! I can't even get into the debacle that was Ravens-Lions. So I won't.
All in all, I would have to say that this entry sucked. I will hopefully do better next time.
But I wouldn't count on it.
Went to the friend's birthday party on Friday. Drove through Noah level flood waters to do it. It was okay. I know the birthday girl because she is my wife's friend, and so I knew very few people there. There was this very friendly older gentleman (bald head, glasses and hawaiian shirt. A look I cannot pull off no matte how hard I try). He found out I have friends from Maine, and within 30 seconds of conversation he offered me the opportunity to join him in his car for some non-tobacco smoking. I guess that is ONE way to make friends and influence people. I didn't know I came off as quite that herbal.
Saturday was the comedy show for the troupe I am in and ANOTHER friend's birthday party in a bar (personally I think my crowd is getting too old to be going to Federal Hill and bar-hopping until last call. I know I am too old and cranky to deal with a throng of 22 year olds singing along to Sweet Caroline. Off-key. You are 22 and have no way to have an appreciation of the genius that is Neil Diamond. Until you can have an honest debate between the merits of Cherry Cherry versus the need for a commercial success that spawned Turn on Your Heartlight, you should not be allowed to bellow "BUM-BUM-BUM" at the top of your lungs while spilling your Michelob Ultra on my shoes). Thank God Dave was there to talk to.
And how did the show go, I hear you asking? I am so glad you asked. It went pretty well overall. I would give the show a B-, myself a C+. It was the first show with the new cast members (at least some of them), and it was a little ragged. I would get into more in depth nalysis of the show and my performance in particular, but none of you give a shit about that. So unless you beg me (and as of right now I do not believe anybody has even noticed the existence of my little exercise in the egotistic thought that anybody would give two craps about my opinions and my life, so I don't think there will be any begging anytime soon), it ain't gonna happen.
Sunday brought the Raven's game. And at about the end of the 3rd quarter, a movie because I just couldn't watch anymore. I am in no way a fair weather fan. I still support my teams. I haven't abandoned the Orioles or the Cubs or Nebraska Football, and I am not going to abandon the Ravens. But even with that, what a HORRIBLE game! I can't even get into the debacle that was Ravens-Lions. So I won't.
All in all, I would have to say that this entry sucked. I will hopefully do better next time.
But I wouldn't count on it.
Friday, October 07, 2005
One final thought before I leave work for the day
As I have said previously, I am not overly versed in the ways of the interweb. What I know how to do I can do pretty well. Everything else might as well be written in Sanskrit. So when it says to post my photo go to "Settings" I go eagerly. One big problem though. It wants a web address for my picture. My picture isn't floating around the ether (well, as I said last post, it probably is. But I will be damned if I know where it has floated to or how to go and get it), it is on my harddrive. There is no URL for my hard drive (is there?). I am thankful that it is Friday, and it is my friend's (actually she is my wife's friend, but I like her well enough) birthday and there will be alcohol consumption in my immediate future. Everything is better with gin! Try it on your cornflakes. Trust me. Have I lied to you yet?
*Editor's note: Those I have lied to already are not allowed to respond to that question, as it would be really damaging to my already fragile psyche and I just don't think I can handle that right now.
*Editor's note: Those I have lied to already are not allowed to respond to that question, as it would be really damaging to my already fragile psyche and I just don't think I can handle that right now.
Lost is not just a tv show
It is also how I feel as I wander through the electronic catacombs trying to make this thing look decent. All the templates show some guy's picture nest to his posts. How the hell do you do that? I clicked on the "Add Image", and then added said image. What I am not sure of is where the hell I added it to. For all I know, it is now being cropped and put on the walls of your local post office, finally covering that old pic of the Unabomber. Or it could be at this very moment the exact image needed for some guy with a fetish for the better left unmentioned to find a momentary completion in his life. I am afraid I will somehow end up on a Photoshop Phriday on www.somethingawful.com (which by the way is an AWESOME site for those who have not yet viewed it. And if you haven't, why the hell not?).
As I learn more, or am flamed by a bunch of 15 year olds who haven't seen natural light since the Clinton administration, I will hopefully make this place look at least marginally like someone who knows what they are doing is doing the posting. In the meantime, strap yourselves in and prepare to feel the cheese BABY!
As I learn more, or am flamed by a bunch of 15 year olds who haven't seen natural light since the Clinton administration, I will hopefully make this place look at least marginally like someone who knows what they are doing is doing the posting. In the meantime, strap yourselves in and prepare to feel the cheese BABY!
I just wanted to post to someone else's blog
...and lo and behold I am now a blogger. Whoopee.
I have never liked the word "blog" or "blogger". It sounds like and insult British people use. And since I don't boil everything I eat, and I have at least a basic working knowledge of oral hygiene, I cannot be British (I am by heritage half Scottish, but that is for another time).
I suppose I will post more in the future. If this is anything like the journal I was forced to keep by my Humanities professor back in college (too many damn years ago to mention), odds are I will write about 25 entries sometime in mid-December and change the date to reflect 2 entries a week. We will have to see what happens next.
I have never liked the word "blog" or "blogger". It sounds like and insult British people use. And since I don't boil everything I eat, and I have at least a basic working knowledge of oral hygiene, I cannot be British (I am by heritage half Scottish, but that is for another time).
I suppose I will post more in the future. If this is anything like the journal I was forced to keep by my Humanities professor back in college (too many damn years ago to mention), odds are I will write about 25 entries sometime in mid-December and change the date to reflect 2 entries a week. We will have to see what happens next.
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