I know, another SERIOUS topic. But it is something that I think about, and it happened today. First let me say this, everybody stereotypes. It's true. When you meet someone, when you see someone on the street, you will start assigning them certain characteristics based on your experience with their appearance. You could assign them the title of snob, bitch, thug, or anything else. Personally, I don't think it is a bad thing that people do that. It is a way of making the world around you make sense. You have life experiences, and they affect how you react to a similar experience the next time. For instance, when you are young, you find out that the stove gets hot. You burn your hand. The next time, and for the rest of your life, it affects how you approach a stove. That is a rather simplified corollary, but it does apply. You have met people with a similar appearance to someone you are approaching, your mind recalls the previous encounter, and it informs how this encounter will begin. But THIS is the main point of human behavior, at least in this case. The past can inform how you begin the interaction, but an open minded human being doesn't let it dictate how the interaction continues. In other words, the first time I walk up to a guy with a short sleeved button down shirt and polyester pants, wearing a pair of glasses with tape in the middle and with a big pocket protector full of pens in his shirt pocket, I am going to apporach the situation as if he is, for lack of a better term, a nerd. However, when I begin talking to him, if he starts talking like Antonio Banderas and discussing the merits of hemi versus turbo deisel, well you get the idea. Stereotyping as initial reaction is human nature. It is allowing the individual you meet to not be trapped in your stereotype that makes us a community.
Which brings me to the reason I brought this up. Someone who works in the dental office was behind me on the drive in to work this morning. This is one of the people up there I actually like and get along with. Well, she asks me if I noticed the damage on the front of her car, and I say that I did. She then begins to tell me what happened. It seems she was driving along York Road near the Senator (it's a Baltimore thing. If you aren't from the area, that means it is a borderline part of town. One of those "good block bad block" kind of deals). Apparently she saw tow cars in front of her to the left slam on their brakes and the two drivers get out and start arguing rather vociferously (just in case you didn't know, it's Big Word Monday!). These two men were both black. Now I will use as close to her exact words as possible..."And these two big black guts get out of their car and start arguing. I got scared. I thought bullets were going to start flying...". She was watching the fight, not paying attention to the road, and rear ended the car in front of her.
Before condeming her, let's look at this. Baltimore is one of the most violent citied in America (possibly the most violent city, if the current conspiacy rumor about the police department and the mayor cooking the numbers to drop them so it looked like crime was on the decline have anty merit. Really it is fascinating stuff. Go to www.baltimoresun.com or www.citypaper.com and check out the story). Like many cities, there is a lot of what I call chosen segregation. White people don't move into black neighborhoods and vice versa. There is a lot of what I have seen called "black-on-black" crime. The section of town she was in has been known to host violence. A lot of the violence ends in gunshots (we average almost if not more than a killing a day here. Not something I am bragging about, but facts are facts). All of those factors informed her thought process.
When she first said it to me, I immediately began to think that it was a racist thought. Then I started thinking about how she never seemed racist to me, I never saw her react negatively to any of the black or hispanic co-workers in the office. Then I started thinking how asinine these thoughts were. Can I not say that the same thought would not have crossed my mind if I was where she was? I cannot. And that leads me to this moral quandry. Is her (and what could have possibly been my) initial reaction racist, or does it fit within the framework of what I was talking about earlier? Seeing how she didn't get close to the conflict, what with the accident and exchanging insurance information and all, there was no way for her to get anything that would alter her view of the incident.
When she told me, it felt as if she was telling me this in order to get the okay that her reaction was valid. I cannot say for a fact that she was trying to get validation from me, but it did have that sense to it. I declined to show my hand one way or the other, because of my own ambiguity to the whole situation. So I put it to you, gentle readers. Was she wrong? Am I wrong? How would you have reacted? Can you honestly put yourself in that situation, including all of the variables, and say you wouldn't have had the same thought, if only for an instant? If she had driven through the same thing but in a different area, one not thought of as a place of violence, would she have reacted the same way? I know you can't answer that last question, but I felt it was worth mentioning anyway. Tell me what you think, I eagerly await your responses.
And as always, I will strive for my next post to contain many fart and dick jokes to make up for the seriousness of this post. I am like Playboy, no one REALLY reads me for the articles. And before you ask, yes, they are real. And they are SPECTACULAR!
Monday, February 27, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
If you blogged here, you would be homepaged now
If you get the reference, good. If not, drive past a few apartment complexes and you will see. Anyway, it has been a long weekend, full of snow and strife (incident at the night job. Believe it or not, I cannot get into details about it. Kinda sad, ain't it?) But the result of all the drama is that I now sit here in my cubicle and suffer from bus butt (I am going to assume you know what that is. If you don't, drop me a response on here and I will exlplain. And here I go again thinking more than 5 people read this damn thing), trying not to fall asleep before I leave. CAN YOU FEEL THE EXCITEMENT?!?!?
To tell you the truth, I am feeling pretty lethargic today. Probably a combination of the weather and stress. I could really use some tension release tonight (God I hope my wife is reads this before bedtime!), and if I don't get that, I would at least like 6-8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Maybe I'll get that when I am dead. But I am beginning to doubt that.
Actually I really don't have a damn thing to say today. I just felt like I left you all hanging last time, and I wanted you to know that I did not kill nor was I killed. I am just in some kind of very sleepy place. I think it is that the basement is warm and the air is a little on the stagnant side. It induces coma-like qualities.
One last thing before I go. If you have not yet seen "The Aristocrats" (the documentary, not the isney Animated movie), go rent it NOW. It is vulgar and disgusting and vile and a laugh riot, not to mention a beautiful look into the psyche of humanity, especialyl comics. It really should be required viewing, but not if kids are in the room. Or the house. Or the womb. But other than that, everyone should see it. Hell, even Carrot Top is funny in this movie. And THAT is one hell of an accomplishment.
To tell you the truth, I am feeling pretty lethargic today. Probably a combination of the weather and stress. I could really use some tension release tonight (God I hope my wife is reads this before bedtime!), and if I don't get that, I would at least like 6-8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Maybe I'll get that when I am dead. But I am beginning to doubt that.
Actually I really don't have a damn thing to say today. I just felt like I left you all hanging last time, and I wanted you to know that I did not kill nor was I killed. I am just in some kind of very sleepy place. I think it is that the basement is warm and the air is a little on the stagnant side. It induces coma-like qualities.
One last thing before I go. If you have not yet seen "The Aristocrats" (the documentary, not the isney Animated movie), go rent it NOW. It is vulgar and disgusting and vile and a laugh riot, not to mention a beautiful look into the psyche of humanity, especialyl comics. It really should be required viewing, but not if kids are in the room. Or the house. Or the womb. But other than that, everyone should see it. Hell, even Carrot Top is funny in this movie. And THAT is one hell of an accomplishment.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
I am now officially sick of it all
Yeah, I went dark for a while again. But like Jack Bauer, I have risen from the dead to save the world and hopefully get good enough ratings for renewal.
So where do I stand? I know, on my feet, har-de-har-har. But really, it has come down to this: Married life is great so far. The night job is what it is, not really good or bad, just annoying that I have to do it. As far as the day job goes, I am done with it. I am not quitting, because that isn't economically feasible. However, I don't have to pretend that I give a rat's ass about any of it.
As you are probably aware (I think I have mentioned this before), my day job wouldn't exist if the people in the dental office actually did their jobs correctly. That isn't the case, so I have health benefits. With that comes a heaping helping of crap from them. There are probably 4 or 5 people up there that actually like me and understand why I am here. But the vast majority (including the Office Manager and the doctor in charge of the department) openly dislike me and make my being here difficult. The fact that the OM was defined as incompetent by the firm brought in to evaluate the office before my real boss was given the assignment of fixing everything, and she hired me to be the one on point, is testament to what I am dealing with. My real boss helps, but there is only so much that she can do. The fact that the DICK (doctor in charge - the "K" is just because that is what I think of him) decided that instead of reviewing with her what the evaluating firm said and working with her to correct those mistakes he would just keep them from her and allow her to continue on making the same damn incompetent mistakes over and over again is proof that I am in what is basically an unwinnable position. But all of that, I can handle. Besides, in a sick way it makes my job a little easier because my real boss knows that I am in an unwinnable position and tries her best to help me, and when something goes wrong, she sees what part of it is my fault and what part isn't and reacts accordingly. I like a boss who can think rationally. So that isn't the problem. The real problem is where I do my work from, the basement.
Here in the business office is the IT department (over against the far wall, doing what they need to and not being bothered too much by the rabble down here). Everywhere else is some form of medical billing. Accounts receivable for the hospital, pre-authorizations for surgery and physical therapy, Medicare liaisons and the like. And me. Dental. Just me.
I also know I have said in the past that some of the sensibilities down here do not mesh with mine. Nor do I expect everyone to think the same way I think (even if I am right, which I am) or like what I like. Say for instance, taste in music. My tastes are rather eclectic, but while working I try to stay with music that is relatively safe. I like "classic" rock, like REO Speedwagon, Journey and STYX. I enjoy some country, like Hank Williams Jr, Randy Travis, and Rascall Flatts. I also have a love of disco (truth be told, I love pretty much all 70's music. I really think it is some of the best pop music spectrum wise that we have seen), and will listen to ABBA or a mix cd that I burned a while ago. But here is what has me saying "Fuck 'am all" right now. My real boss was upstairs in the dental office and called down to ask me to bring her something, and while we were on the phone she asked me how loud my radio was. I told her I didn't have it on at the time. She said I need to keep it down, because a couple of people had complained to her about it. Now let's look at this.
1) NO ONE has come to me and asked me to turn it down. The last time I checked, this wasn't 8th grade. Speak to me adult to adult instead of going to the principal.
2) I am subjected to listening to THEIR music (as well as their watching the news while they cluck back and forth about how horrible it all is). I am not against Gospel music, but it is not what I choose to listen to. And yet every day I am inundated with hosannas and holy holy holies. Not to mention online keyboard (piano) lessons (!) and anything else anyone else chooses. I have not once complained to their bosses, nor have I to them. It is (to me) one of the things that you have to deal with when you work in a cubicle. A necessary evil. And yet "Don't Stop Believin' " is so offensive to their sensitive constitutions that they feel the need to go directly to my boss to file a complaint, without speaking to me?
To tell you the truth, it is just giving me extra motivation to get the hell out of here and find a new job. I get paid jack shit and all I get from this place is heartburn and tension headaches. I cannot believe that I am saying this, but it is easier to deal with JabberJaws than this. Her I can block out and grunt one syllable answers to when she starts talking to me directly. But this is going beyond the pale.
And in case anyone wants an update, I have not yet killed JJ. So far I can still run for President. And since she won't be in again this week and is off all of next week, I will get a chance to recharge my batteries before having to deal with her again. So anybody who had the over/under of the end of January, you have lost money (and to my friend the former Ms. Weird, that means you. Yes I am back. I seem to go in fits and spurts on this thing, so you can probably expect a number of posts over the next couple of weeks. And then...back to my Special Ops coversion I suppose. Just remember, you have awoken the sleeping giant, so be prepared for the consequences).
I think I will post some silly pictures so I am not a complete downer. I know when I get all morose and bitchy it doesn't make for a gigglefest of reading, and I don't think you come here for my malaise. Except for the masochistic bastards who feed off of that sort of thing. You know who you are, you pain vampires.
"I will miss you most of all Scarecrow. Now go protect my fucking corn!"
-Dorothy's original line before she got into the hot air balloon. It was thought to be incongruous with the rest of the story and was cut.
So where do I stand? I know, on my feet, har-de-har-har. But really, it has come down to this: Married life is great so far. The night job is what it is, not really good or bad, just annoying that I have to do it. As far as the day job goes, I am done with it. I am not quitting, because that isn't economically feasible. However, I don't have to pretend that I give a rat's ass about any of it.
As you are probably aware (I think I have mentioned this before), my day job wouldn't exist if the people in the dental office actually did their jobs correctly. That isn't the case, so I have health benefits. With that comes a heaping helping of crap from them. There are probably 4 or 5 people up there that actually like me and understand why I am here. But the vast majority (including the Office Manager and the doctor in charge of the department) openly dislike me and make my being here difficult. The fact that the OM was defined as incompetent by the firm brought in to evaluate the office before my real boss was given the assignment of fixing everything, and she hired me to be the one on point, is testament to what I am dealing with. My real boss helps, but there is only so much that she can do. The fact that the DICK (doctor in charge - the "K" is just because that is what I think of him) decided that instead of reviewing with her what the evaluating firm said and working with her to correct those mistakes he would just keep them from her and allow her to continue on making the same damn incompetent mistakes over and over again is proof that I am in what is basically an unwinnable position. But all of that, I can handle. Besides, in a sick way it makes my job a little easier because my real boss knows that I am in an unwinnable position and tries her best to help me, and when something goes wrong, she sees what part of it is my fault and what part isn't and reacts accordingly. I like a boss who can think rationally. So that isn't the problem. The real problem is where I do my work from, the basement.
Here in the business office is the IT department (over against the far wall, doing what they need to and not being bothered too much by the rabble down here). Everywhere else is some form of medical billing. Accounts receivable for the hospital, pre-authorizations for surgery and physical therapy, Medicare liaisons and the like. And me. Dental. Just me.
I also know I have said in the past that some of the sensibilities down here do not mesh with mine. Nor do I expect everyone to think the same way I think (even if I am right, which I am) or like what I like. Say for instance, taste in music. My tastes are rather eclectic, but while working I try to stay with music that is relatively safe. I like "classic" rock, like REO Speedwagon, Journey and STYX. I enjoy some country, like Hank Williams Jr, Randy Travis, and Rascall Flatts. I also have a love of disco (truth be told, I love pretty much all 70's music. I really think it is some of the best pop music spectrum wise that we have seen), and will listen to ABBA or a mix cd that I burned a while ago. But here is what has me saying "Fuck 'am all" right now. My real boss was upstairs in the dental office and called down to ask me to bring her something, and while we were on the phone she asked me how loud my radio was. I told her I didn't have it on at the time. She said I need to keep it down, because a couple of people had complained to her about it. Now let's look at this.
1) NO ONE has come to me and asked me to turn it down. The last time I checked, this wasn't 8th grade. Speak to me adult to adult instead of going to the principal.
2) I am subjected to listening to THEIR music (as well as their watching the news while they cluck back and forth about how horrible it all is). I am not against Gospel music, but it is not what I choose to listen to. And yet every day I am inundated with hosannas and holy holy holies. Not to mention online keyboard (piano) lessons (!) and anything else anyone else chooses. I have not once complained to their bosses, nor have I to them. It is (to me) one of the things that you have to deal with when you work in a cubicle. A necessary evil. And yet "Don't Stop Believin' " is so offensive to their sensitive constitutions that they feel the need to go directly to my boss to file a complaint, without speaking to me?
To tell you the truth, it is just giving me extra motivation to get the hell out of here and find a new job. I get paid jack shit and all I get from this place is heartburn and tension headaches. I cannot believe that I am saying this, but it is easier to deal with JabberJaws than this. Her I can block out and grunt one syllable answers to when she starts talking to me directly. But this is going beyond the pale.
And in case anyone wants an update, I have not yet killed JJ. So far I can still run for President. And since she won't be in again this week and is off all of next week, I will get a chance to recharge my batteries before having to deal with her again. So anybody who had the over/under of the end of January, you have lost money (and to my friend the former Ms. Weird, that means you. Yes I am back. I seem to go in fits and spurts on this thing, so you can probably expect a number of posts over the next couple of weeks. And then...back to my Special Ops coversion I suppose. Just remember, you have awoken the sleeping giant, so be prepared for the consequences).
I think I will post some silly pictures so I am not a complete downer. I know when I get all morose and bitchy it doesn't make for a gigglefest of reading, and I don't think you come here for my malaise. Except for the masochistic bastards who feed off of that sort of thing. You know who you are, you pain vampires.
"I will miss you most of all Scarecrow. Now go protect my fucking corn!"
-Dorothy's original line before she got into the hot air balloon. It was thought to be incongruous with the rest of the story and was cut.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Careful what you wish for and other musings
I know what you are asking me right now, and no I am not really your father, and I do not owe you 20-some or more years of birthday and Christmas presents. Also, you are wondering why there is a picture of a JabberJaws bobblehead at the top of this post. Well, it is because Asian's desk is being filled by old JabberJaws herself. In fact, she moved in on Friday, and I am already preparing my temporary insanity defense. The only thing staving off the execution immediately following the three day weekend is that she only works 2-3 days a week, so she isn't here today. But she will be tomorrow, and whether she knows it or not, she better thank God for the 5 day waiting list here in Maryland. Now don't get me wrong, Asian had her faults (I know I do too, but in the world of my blog it is never my fault. Delusion in binary, thank you very much), but there were bright sides to her too. And it was easy to pick on her and tease her, because she kept opening the door for me to slap her down. Approximately 75% of the time she would get the joke. Okay, closer to 50%, but 25% of the time she would laugh along so she wouldn't look stupid. JabberJaws is definitely over 60, probably closer to 65, and she talks CONSTANTLY. She talks to herself while highlighting a spreadsheet, making noise the entire time she is not inhaling. I wish I was exaggerating when I say that, but good old Anonymous (a coworker down here in the land of the Mole People, and quite possibly the only one besides me who has any real sense of the inanity of this place) will back me up after I tell her about this post and she reads it, right Anon?
Now if talking were the be all and end all, I could probably work around it. Lord knows I like the sound of my own voice too (one of the main reasons I continue this exercise in futility known as blogging is because as I type I get to hear myself speaking the words in my head. No ego here. Nope). The problem is that she will float to the wall of your cubicle and lean on the low part of it and talk about EVERY DAMN THING IN HER LIFE. I do not care one iota about her husband's problems with planter's warts. Really. I think I have mentioned her before, so you probably have at least a general idea.
But this is what will eventually drive me to go all Michael Douglas in Falling Down (another great movie that if you haven't seen you REALLY should. Dark, but funny, and excellent performances all around the movie) on her. The casual touching. I am not overly touchy feely, and I have not been for quite some time. Twice she has given me the "Stand next to you shoulder to shoulder and put my arm around you and give you a combination hug and back rub" thing. That would be bad enough, if she wasn't doing it while I was seated and therefore I have her breasts almost shoved in my face. Like two floppy pouches of powdered milk. Not my idea of fun. And that isn't the worst. She has only done this once, and the only reason she has the chance to do it again is because I was too stunned to snap her wrist in half when she did this to me. She PATTED ME ON THE HEAD. And not just one or two pats. Nope, she patted me like I was a flipping Golden Retriever who just fetched her the stick. It is quite possibly the most condescending thing that has ever happened to me, at least in an office setting. And I will NOT tolerate it again. No sir.
So I will keep you up to date on when she finally pushes me over the edge. If my loyal readers want to get a betting pool of some sort going, I am going to give the over/under at 3 weeks from tomorrow, January 18th. All other bets, the how, with what, where (basically think Clue, only with a real candlestick) I will leave up to the oddsmakers in Vegas. I am pretty sure they will take bets on this.
Now to the other thing that takes too much of my time. Target. Here's some things I have been noticing lately...
1. Now that the holiday season is over, I am again a profiling, racist asshole for wanting to check receipts of things like $1000 t.v sets and looking into bags of people who set the door alarm off. There was an uneasy truce during the Christmas shopping season, as people were more expectant of being double checked. That moratorium has ended, and the party has begun anew.
2. It is my understanding that unless you bring in the receipt or a gift receipt and you want to do an exchange, you have to get merchanise of the same value from the same area. That is pretty much standard for retail. Now my position of Target Protection Specialist (fancy way of saying polyester clad laughing stock for teenage punks who's parents pay for private school) requires me to spend the vast majority of my time standing by the main entrance, which is right next to Guest Services (in Target you are not a "customer", you are a "guest". How many focus groups did they go through to come up with THAT little bit of inspired marketing?). Since I am right next to the return area, I get to see what most people are getting for their exchanges. I see a lot of clothes, some movies and cd's, the usual stuff. There is one thing, however, that is really confusing me. I have seen an inordinate amount of people, women all of them, coming up to Guest Services, and they are exchanging for tampons and pads. Which leads me to wonder, did I miss something? I know it is hard to shop for women, but really. And if you can't figure out what size SKIRT they wear...
Seriously, I need this explained to me. If this is really what you want for Christmas, I will go to Costco and stock you the hell up. Would I be embarassed about buying Tampax and Always? Possibly, but any hesitation I feel would be immediately tempered with the knowledge that I don't have to stop in Kay Jewelers on the way home. And I KNOW you will get some good usage out of this gift, and I will have the satisfaction of knowing I contributed to your life in a very meaningful way. I think I am going to have to put together a gift basket of sanitary napkins and tampons. Throw in a bag of Hershey's Kisses for the week before the visit from Aunt Flo and I cannot find a negative here. We could even push a few tampons out and make them look like flowers. No red roses though...
I am extremely lucky that my wife is a geek (an incredibly hot geek with a great body and also a brain, but a geek nonetheless). My Christmas shopping consisted of picking up the Narnia game for her PS2, which I got her for Christmas either last year or the year before. She was LITERALLY bouncing around the room for about 15 minutes. She looked like Tigger with tits.
And just so you know, I am actively seeking new daytime employment. My goal is to find one job that pays enough to leave the night job. I have a few irons in the fire, and more on the way. I can only hope that my next office, wherever it is and whenever I move there, will have enough interesting characters to comment on. Otherwise I might have to start forming opinions on a regular basis. And that is too much work right now.
Friday, January 06, 2006
the next two posts directly below this
That just cracks me up. Just for the sake of clarity, you might want to read "I don't know how much longer I can take this" before you read "I feel a little better now". It will make more sense that way.
I feel a litle better now
Okay, I am back. Obviously I didn't get to come back to this while the iron was still hot, but since I have been fighting off the effects of a concussion for almost 2 weeks, I think I have a valid excuse (and no I will not tell you how I got a concussion. At least not right now). I have had time to cool off, but I do want to clear up what all the crap was I put at the end of the last post. I am just going to cover them one step at a time...
- Female priests - I just cannot understand how someone can say thatGod does not speak through women, but can only speak through a man. Something tells me that was added by someone not so divine.
- Homosexuality - Why would someone choose a lifestyle that brings them public scrutiny and scorn, and prevents them from procreating? They wouldn't. No one chooses to be a homosexual any more than someone chooses to be Asian. It is the way the genes connect. There was a study done a few years ago (and I wish I could find the link) that showed twins where one was homosexual and one wasn't, and it showed that there was a difference in the DNA strain. And MY God doesn't punish anyone who loves others, whoever the other is. He punishes the wicked who do not repent and do not accept Him as their personal Saviour. It's that easy.
- 100 years ago, I would have been persecuted like homosexuals are now (I meant persecution, not prosecution last post. I was in a hurry). Why? Because I am left handed, and left handed people were punished, whipped and beaten, and forced to renounce their preference for using the left hand as their dominant hand. Sounds kinda idiotic, doesn't it? Well that is how it was. I can only hope that in another 100 years that homosexuals will be treated like left handed people are today. Maybe they will also have special scissors like we did back in school. Instead of having green rubber on he handle, it can be a rainbow striped rubber.
Honestly, the rest of the points are for a different post. I would, however, like to post an old email that was sent to me by an old friend I have lost contact with. He goes by Sos Dumpowski, but his friends call him Nick. He was (and I assume still is) a very cool guy who had an outlook on life that I shared. Here you go...
Why can't I own Canadians?
Background:Laura Schlessinger is a US radio personality who dispenses advice topeople who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that as an observant Orthodox Jew, she holds homosexuality as an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned in any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned bya US resident, which was posted on the Internet.
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the specific laws and how to follow them.
a) When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord (Lev. 1:9). The problem is my neighbors.They claim the odour is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
b) I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fairprice for her?
c) I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness (Lev. 15:19-24). The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
d) Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians.Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
e) I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligatedto kill him myself?
f) A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination (Lev. 11:10), it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree.Can you settle this?
g) Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggleroom here?
h) Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev.19:27. How should they die?
i) I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
j) My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyesterblend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? (Lev.24:10-16) Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging. Your devoted disciple and adoring fan.
And in case you want to question the validity of the Bible references, you can go here...
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Leviticus%2025:44;&version=31;
I put one up for you, you can search the rest up at the top.
I promise my next post will be full of irreverent wit and humility. And 50% less smiting!
Friday, December 23, 2005
I don't know how much longer I can take this
It's happening again. I am going to be (for the most part) serious here. It is the last day before a 3 day weekend (unless of course like me you have two jobs, in which case it is one more day of work and a one day weekend, but still...), and no one is doing any work. Me included mind you. I have no problem admitting that I have not done one damn thing today. That's what happens in an office. But its the conversations that are killing me here.
Apparently Asian (who just won't go the hell away) is down here discussing how she was watching Nickelodeon with one of her kids, and on "The Fairly OddParents", someone made some kind of reference that was pro-evolution. Repeat after me...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! For the love of Christ Almighty, are we still dealing with this shit? Quick, call the PMRC and the Coalition for Family Values and every other fringe outfit (and while you are at it, give a shout out to the ACLU, because if there is a chance to make a point of mistaking having a differing opinion than them so they can denounce you as being Un-American, they will take it). I don't like this whole "Intelligent Design", because let's call it what it is, Creationism. And let me make this clear, I believe in Creationism. But I also believe in Evolution. It's not that big of a leap. My problem is that Intelligent Design, or whatever you want to call it, is based in the Judeo-Christian theology. Muslims and Hindus and every other belief system doesn't necessarily believe that, and to teach that and not acknowledge EVERY other theological version of creation is tantamount to having a state religion. And that is not what we believe in as a country (at least that is what it says in the Owner's Manual).
So Asian says, "If they are pro-evolution, where does that put Adam and Eve?" NEWSFLASH::::::::: they can still be there. Fact of the matter is, God didn't create the sun until the 4th Day if I remember my Genesis correctly. So the first 3 Days could have been any length of time as we measure them. I am pretty sure God measures time a little differently than we do. And IMHO, God can make any day he wants lasts as long as he wants. And how is THIS for a theory. Adam was created from the clay of the Earth, correct? Couldn't "clay" in this case be the primordial ooze that birthed the single cell organisms that evolved into human beings? And since Eve came from Adam, couldn't her split be when one being became two, much like single celled organisms do now? And really, doesn't EVERYBODY come from a single celled organism running into another different single cell organism? Sperm to egg, and BINGO! Its a ZYGOTE!
I am going to ramble here and will hopefully be able to come back tomorrow after work and complete this. I do need to make a point very clear. I do not think that being created in God's image is a physical thing. God is not some man or woman walking around. God has no color. To me, being created in God's image is that we as human beings are multifaceted. We experience a range of emotions and have ranges of reactions to each emotion depending on various stimuli and scenarios. Read some Old Testement, see God's love and God's wrath and God's revenge. He creates the Earth and floods it to start over, all in Genesis. That is one hell of a delete key.
Okay, I have to wrap this up, but let me make a few bullet points to reference for tomorrow...
Apparently Asian (who just won't go the hell away) is down here discussing how she was watching Nickelodeon with one of her kids, and on "The Fairly OddParents", someone made some kind of reference that was pro-evolution. Repeat after me...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! For the love of Christ Almighty, are we still dealing with this shit? Quick, call the PMRC and the Coalition for Family Values and every other fringe outfit (and while you are at it, give a shout out to the ACLU, because if there is a chance to make a point of mistaking having a differing opinion than them so they can denounce you as being Un-American, they will take it). I don't like this whole "Intelligent Design", because let's call it what it is, Creationism. And let me make this clear, I believe in Creationism. But I also believe in Evolution. It's not that big of a leap. My problem is that Intelligent Design, or whatever you want to call it, is based in the Judeo-Christian theology. Muslims and Hindus and every other belief system doesn't necessarily believe that, and to teach that and not acknowledge EVERY other theological version of creation is tantamount to having a state religion. And that is not what we believe in as a country (at least that is what it says in the Owner's Manual).
So Asian says, "If they are pro-evolution, where does that put Adam and Eve?" NEWSFLASH::::::::: they can still be there. Fact of the matter is, God didn't create the sun until the 4th Day if I remember my Genesis correctly. So the first 3 Days could have been any length of time as we measure them. I am pretty sure God measures time a little differently than we do. And IMHO, God can make any day he wants lasts as long as he wants. And how is THIS for a theory. Adam was created from the clay of the Earth, correct? Couldn't "clay" in this case be the primordial ooze that birthed the single cell organisms that evolved into human beings? And since Eve came from Adam, couldn't her split be when one being became two, much like single celled organisms do now? And really, doesn't EVERYBODY come from a single celled organism running into another different single cell organism? Sperm to egg, and BINGO! Its a ZYGOTE!
I am going to ramble here and will hopefully be able to come back tomorrow after work and complete this. I do need to make a point very clear. I do not think that being created in God's image is a physical thing. God is not some man or woman walking around. God has no color. To me, being created in God's image is that we as human beings are multifaceted. We experience a range of emotions and have ranges of reactions to each emotion depending on various stimuli and scenarios. Read some Old Testement, see God's love and God's wrath and God's revenge. He creates the Earth and floods it to start over, all in Genesis. That is one hell of a delete key.
Okay, I have to wrap this up, but let me make a few bullet points to reference for tomorrow...
- female priests
- homosexuality
- prosecution from 100 yrs ago
- slavery
- Uncle David
- Pop and Grandpa Chick
There is more, but I will have to recall it and write it down tonight in between annoying "guests" at Target.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
my brain hurts
I think I have officially cracked. Gone off the deep end. No more Mr. Rational Guy. It is probably due to a combination of exhaustion from my schedule and sensory overload from the bombardment of the holidays season (plural on purpose. Chanukkah and Kwanzaa both start the day after Christmas, and they are both holidays). For instance, as I was doing my closing walk/item count/inspection the other night while at Target, I walked past the Chanukkah display. As I looked at it, I swear I saw a shelf full of containers of Chanukkah Pepperoni sticks. That made me pause for a moment, because nothing says Jewish Holiday like cured and seasoned pork. Well, upon closer inspection, it turns out that it said "peppermint" sticks. But I think there is one hell of an untapped market for Channukah pepperoni sticks. Who wants to get in the ground floor for this. It could be the next Pet Rock. Of course it could also be the next Cop Rock. But life without risk is just too damn boring for me.
Secondly, I just got some stuff I ordered from a woman in the office that she was selling for her daughter (side bar - the wife and I need to start having kids soon, if for no other reason so that I can start hawking overpriced crap at people in the office. Revenge shall be mine!!!!!). I was looking at the box it came in (it is a box of different cookie doughs), and could have sworn I saw the words "fucking powder" on the box. It turns out it said "baking powder". It was clear as day. But the first time I saw it, it did NOT say "baking" on it anywhere.
Finally, for the majority of the day, I have had the theme to Charles in Charge stuck in my head. Why? I have no earthyl idea except that I have done something to incur God's wrath, and since it can't rain frogs in the middle of the hospital, this was the next thing He thought of. I haven't seen the show, nor any mention of it, not even a reference to it in so long that I cannot remember how long it has been. There has been one Scott Baio reference recently, while discussing Arrested Development with my buddy/upstairs neighbor/tenant. But that reference not got past Chachi, if it got that far.
I must head out to work. I have to go to Bel Air tonight again (repeat after me...wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee). I want to be home by 11 so I can get a little sleep before work tomorrow, to be followed by my cousin's wedding. But I needed to share that.
Secondly, I just got some stuff I ordered from a woman in the office that she was selling for her daughter (side bar - the wife and I need to start having kids soon, if for no other reason so that I can start hawking overpriced crap at people in the office. Revenge shall be mine!!!!!). I was looking at the box it came in (it is a box of different cookie doughs), and could have sworn I saw the words "fucking powder" on the box. It turns out it said "baking powder". It was clear as day. But the first time I saw it, it did NOT say "baking" on it anywhere.
Finally, for the majority of the day, I have had the theme to Charles in Charge stuck in my head. Why? I have no earthyl idea except that I have done something to incur God's wrath, and since it can't rain frogs in the middle of the hospital, this was the next thing He thought of. I haven't seen the show, nor any mention of it, not even a reference to it in so long that I cannot remember how long it has been. There has been one Scott Baio reference recently, while discussing Arrested Development with my buddy/upstairs neighbor/tenant. But that reference not got past Chachi, if it got that far.
I must head out to work. I have to go to Bel Air tonight again (repeat after me...wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee). I want to be home by 11 so I can get a little sleep before work tomorrow, to be followed by my cousin's wedding. But I needed to share that.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Feast or Famine
Apparently I have the bug up my ass to write again. So here goes...
I hate when people call Target "tar-JAY" (soft "j"). It is not funny, and whatever irony you think exists by shopping at a value priced store and giving it a name that supposedly makes it sound haughty and expensive just doesn't exist. The only irony is that there is no irony there (oooh, mental moebius strip!). And really, it's just not funny. I don't know if it has ever been. You are the same people that called the alvation Army "Le Sal's", and Nordstrom's "Nordy's". You are all blathering idiots.
Now back to trouser socks. I really do need to know what the difference is between "trouser" socks, and socks you can buy in a 6 pack or 12 pack at Wal-Mart or Target or K-Mart or any other damn place. To me, it sounds like an excuse to charge extra for tube socks. And (gender differences and stereotypes be damned) I am willing to bet that men have never bought trouser socks. NEVER.
I have a few random thoughts that are floating in my head, so here they are in no particular order...
The Power Rangers are nothing but a pale imitation of Voltron (the lions, not the cars. But IMHO, the cars never got a fair shake. They were like Bo and Luke's cousins. Doomed from the start), with some really bad karate moves thrown in for good measure. And they have been on for what, 10 years now? Longer? No wonder kids are getting dumber.
Speaking of kids, I do not believe that time outs work. I got my ass whupped more times than I can possibly count (I am pretty sure that having to whup my ass is the reason my mother has arthritis now. All the slaps she gave me must have thrown her bones out of alignment. Especially because I learned early to clench up my butt cheeks when the whuppin started, so my mother just started whuppin harder. She probably knocked her spine out of alignment trying to make sure I got the message. And eventually I did. It took longer than expected, but still. And since my juvenile record is sealed, you will have to take my word on it). I am either for spankings or psychological warfare. My "big brother" (mentioned earlier) uses the latter. He has convinced his son that if he misbehaves, he can call the Amish to vome take him away. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a straight face the first time you hear a grown man threaten to call the Amish to take his son away if the son doesn't stop misbehaving. Thank God I was there and knew he wasn't joking (at least not as far as his son was concerned). And to see the panic in his eyes when he grabbed the phone, the boy running to his father crying "PLEASE don't call the Amish!! I'll be good!!!". I had to excuse myself and go outside and down the street so as to not ruin it by gut laughing. It works. And really, shouldn't we all be at least a little afraid of the Amish? But here is the best part. About 2 years ago, my bro and his wife bought a house in Red Lion PA. Right in the middle of Amish Country. Apparently whenever they pass one of the buggies, he sinks REAL low in his seat and whimpers a little. Of course, there is an off chance the kid will end up on a tower somewhere going all Lee Harvey Oswald on people, but as long as you don't have a beard w/out a mustache and don't wear big hats, you should be okay. He'll probably just wing you.
Dammitall, I had others, but I just got 3 phone calls in a row from patients and completely lost my train of thought. Hopefully I will get it back soon and I can finish this before I leave work today. I doubt I will have time to do anything this weekend. We shall see.
I hate when people call Target "tar-JAY" (soft "j"). It is not funny, and whatever irony you think exists by shopping at a value priced store and giving it a name that supposedly makes it sound haughty and expensive just doesn't exist. The only irony is that there is no irony there (oooh, mental moebius strip!). And really, it's just not funny. I don't know if it has ever been. You are the same people that called the alvation Army "Le Sal's", and Nordstrom's "Nordy's". You are all blathering idiots.
Now back to trouser socks. I really do need to know what the difference is between "trouser" socks, and socks you can buy in a 6 pack or 12 pack at Wal-Mart or Target or K-Mart or any other damn place. To me, it sounds like an excuse to charge extra for tube socks. And (gender differences and stereotypes be damned) I am willing to bet that men have never bought trouser socks. NEVER.
I have a few random thoughts that are floating in my head, so here they are in no particular order...
The Power Rangers are nothing but a pale imitation of Voltron (the lions, not the cars. But IMHO, the cars never got a fair shake. They were like Bo and Luke's cousins. Doomed from the start), with some really bad karate moves thrown in for good measure. And they have been on for what, 10 years now? Longer? No wonder kids are getting dumber.
Speaking of kids, I do not believe that time outs work. I got my ass whupped more times than I can possibly count (I am pretty sure that having to whup my ass is the reason my mother has arthritis now. All the slaps she gave me must have thrown her bones out of alignment. Especially because I learned early to clench up my butt cheeks when the whuppin started, so my mother just started whuppin harder. She probably knocked her spine out of alignment trying to make sure I got the message. And eventually I did. It took longer than expected, but still. And since my juvenile record is sealed, you will have to take my word on it). I am either for spankings or psychological warfare. My "big brother" (mentioned earlier) uses the latter. He has convinced his son that if he misbehaves, he can call the Amish to vome take him away. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a straight face the first time you hear a grown man threaten to call the Amish to take his son away if the son doesn't stop misbehaving. Thank God I was there and knew he wasn't joking (at least not as far as his son was concerned). And to see the panic in his eyes when he grabbed the phone, the boy running to his father crying "PLEASE don't call the Amish!! I'll be good!!!". I had to excuse myself and go outside and down the street so as to not ruin it by gut laughing. It works. And really, shouldn't we all be at least a little afraid of the Amish? But here is the best part. About 2 years ago, my bro and his wife bought a house in Red Lion PA. Right in the middle of Amish Country. Apparently whenever they pass one of the buggies, he sinks REAL low in his seat and whimpers a little. Of course, there is an off chance the kid will end up on a tower somewhere going all Lee Harvey Oswald on people, but as long as you don't have a beard w/out a mustache and don't wear big hats, you should be okay. He'll probably just wing you.
Dammitall, I had others, but I just got 3 phone calls in a row from patients and completely lost my train of thought. Hopefully I will get it back soon and I can finish this before I leave work today. I doubt I will have time to do anything this weekend. We shall see.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The Circle of Life, office style
Okay, here we go again. As I said last post, Asian is gone. Except for one thing, SHE WON'T LEAVE!!!!! For some reason, even though she was promoted and moved to a floor where you can actually have windows that view air and the outside world, she keeps coming back down here and spending 30 minutes to an hour or even longer chatting away. But this did lead to a brilliant conversation about "trouser socks". And I ask to you all, WHAT THE F%&* ARE TROUSER SOCKS?!?!?!?!? Why do you need to designate socks as to be worn only with "trousers"? Every time I hear the phrase trouser socks, I think trouser snake, and that is a COMPLETELY different thing.
As I typed this, she came back again. I have no reason why she is here. There is no work that she has brought down and none for her to take back up. She is just here to cluck away.
The thing that really gets me about this place is that the Circle of Life here still congregates to chirp away. Apparently we have decided to move on and discuss the odd hour that the hospital "holiday" party is starting (make sure you aren't offending anyone with your using the word "Christmas". PC bullshit). It seems to me that the prevailing thought is that 3pm is just not the right time to start the party. It should be earlier dammit!
I have more to say, but I need to escape for a moment and get away from the din of inanity.
Type at you later.
As I typed this, she came back again. I have no reason why she is here. There is no work that she has brought down and none for her to take back up. She is just here to cluck away.
The thing that really gets me about this place is that the Circle of Life here still congregates to chirp away. Apparently we have decided to move on and discuss the odd hour that the hospital "holiday" party is starting (make sure you aren't offending anyone with your using the word "Christmas". PC bullshit). It seems to me that the prevailing thought is that 3pm is just not the right time to start the party. It should be earlier dammit!
I have more to say, but I need to escape for a moment and get away from the din of inanity.
Type at you later.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Welcome to the Middle of the Aftermath
First of all, for all of you who have been pining for my return, and that means both of you, I am in fact back. Odds are, this will be my last post until after Christmas, and the reason for that is the same reason that I haven't posted in 3 weeks or so. And that is that my jobs are kicking my ASS (insert Ian/Rodney noise here). I have been pulling 80 hour weeks since the beginning of the "holiday season", and to tell you the truth my brain has just been too damn tired to process any kind of coherent thoughts into any kind of entry. And how am I doing it now, you ask? Go ahead, ask. Thank you. Well, I actually am off the night job tonight and for some unknown reason have some semblance of mental acuity. So here we go.
I won't give you any boring details as far as Target goes. In fact, I am disappointed in just how uneventful the last month has been there. The only real excitement is that I stopped some woman from trying to do a "ticket switch". That means she pulled a barcode sticker off of an inexpensive item, in this case a $40 vacuum, and put it on a more expensive item, in this case a $500 vacuum. The suits liked that. But for the most part, people have been very cooperative with me and my need to do my job. Ho hum.
Dayside, it is officially the end of the Era of the Asian Mustard Lady. Feel free to sound whatever death knell you wish. However, in her place I have found a new muse. One that I do not deal with as directly, but still one worth monitoring and reporting on. Her name shall henceforth be known as Mother Hen. I mentioned her previously. She is the one trying to organize everything and randomly brings in treats. Yesterday, it was a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. Yummy indeed, but sometimes I get the feeling that she is trying to fatten us all up in order to eat us, a la Hansel and Gretel. I have to keep an eye on that. Plus, she collects back scratchers and Elvis memorabilia. Hell of a combo. The Elvis stuff I can at least understand, after all Elvis was a bad ass in his day. But back scratchers? Her walls in her office (she is one of the few people in cubicle world to have real walls and a door) are covered with back scratchers hanging from push pins and nails. It's like she is a sadist, but not a mean one. I just see her conducting experiments on homeless people in the hours she is in the basement by herself (she keeps kinda weird hours), but it's hard to break someone's spirit with a Mickey Mouse Back Scratcher. I don't know.
Anyway, her current pet project is the aforementioned Secret Santa, and the offshoot of that, the Office Christmas Breakfast. Today she sent a spreadsheet to everyone so they could sign up. Maybe I am overreacting here, but it's a little too sterile that way. I am going to have to check under the bowl of oatmeal, Golden Child style.
One other thing before I wrap this up. This past Saturday, the wife and I had a party at our house. We figured it had been 5 months since we moved in, it was time to invite people over. Plus, she is in a play that ends this Sunday, but this way it was a holiday/cast party. The party went well. It seemed to be a pretty big hit. I am a little put off though, because it was my first "adult" rager. By that I mean, we had the drinking and carousing, just like my parties in college. There even wound up being a special smoking room, unbeknownst to me at the time. I went down to the basement at one point and realized that it smelled like Cheech and Chong were filming in the utility room. Oh well. No harm, no foul. And the cat we adopted (a story for another time - I will have to fill you in on the cat falling through the ceiling and breaking my nightstand that I have had since I was 12. It's a hoot. Maybe next Tuesday if I have the gumption) was much more relaxed around all the guests than we thought he would be. He just kept licking his paw and then staring at it. But with all of that, there were conversations abounding regarding people refinancing their homes and discussing techniques on what they do when their children are crying and blah blah blah. It was quite disconcerting to be sitting there and between shots of whiskey to talk about my plans for remodeling the house and the market value of the neighborhood as "the next Canton" (for you non locals, Canton is a neighborhood in Baltimore that was kind of run down, but over the last 10 years or so has experienced a renaissance and is now one of the most expensive, some would say overpriced, neighborhoods in town). And discussing this made me happy because all I could think about were rising property values and what that would mean if and when we sell the place. As I typed those last couple of sentences, I died a little. It is like the Barenaked Ladies said, "Old at being young, young at being old". That has become the description of my life.
All in all, this has been a pretty boring entry. Not nearly as funny as I would have hoped. Still, I am back, and I will do my best to post again before Christmas, or at least before New Years Day. And as always, I will try to do better next time. If I am lucky, someone at work will piss me off this week. That is always good for a chortle.
Maybe I will post pics from the wedding. Once I figure out how to post pictures that aren't saved to the hard drive.
I won't give you any boring details as far as Target goes. In fact, I am disappointed in just how uneventful the last month has been there. The only real excitement is that I stopped some woman from trying to do a "ticket switch". That means she pulled a barcode sticker off of an inexpensive item, in this case a $40 vacuum, and put it on a more expensive item, in this case a $500 vacuum. The suits liked that. But for the most part, people have been very cooperative with me and my need to do my job. Ho hum.
Dayside, it is officially the end of the Era of the Asian Mustard Lady. Feel free to sound whatever death knell you wish. However, in her place I have found a new muse. One that I do not deal with as directly, but still one worth monitoring and reporting on. Her name shall henceforth be known as Mother Hen. I mentioned her previously. She is the one trying to organize everything and randomly brings in treats. Yesterday, it was a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. Yummy indeed, but sometimes I get the feeling that she is trying to fatten us all up in order to eat us, a la Hansel and Gretel. I have to keep an eye on that. Plus, she collects back scratchers and Elvis memorabilia. Hell of a combo. The Elvis stuff I can at least understand, after all Elvis was a bad ass in his day. But back scratchers? Her walls in her office (she is one of the few people in cubicle world to have real walls and a door) are covered with back scratchers hanging from push pins and nails. It's like she is a sadist, but not a mean one. I just see her conducting experiments on homeless people in the hours she is in the basement by herself (she keeps kinda weird hours), but it's hard to break someone's spirit with a Mickey Mouse Back Scratcher. I don't know.
Anyway, her current pet project is the aforementioned Secret Santa, and the offshoot of that, the Office Christmas Breakfast. Today she sent a spreadsheet to everyone so they could sign up. Maybe I am overreacting here, but it's a little too sterile that way. I am going to have to check under the bowl of oatmeal, Golden Child style.
One other thing before I wrap this up. This past Saturday, the wife and I had a party at our house. We figured it had been 5 months since we moved in, it was time to invite people over. Plus, she is in a play that ends this Sunday, but this way it was a holiday/cast party. The party went well. It seemed to be a pretty big hit. I am a little put off though, because it was my first "adult" rager. By that I mean, we had the drinking and carousing, just like my parties in college. There even wound up being a special smoking room, unbeknownst to me at the time. I went down to the basement at one point and realized that it smelled like Cheech and Chong were filming in the utility room. Oh well. No harm, no foul. And the cat we adopted (a story for another time - I will have to fill you in on the cat falling through the ceiling and breaking my nightstand that I have had since I was 12. It's a hoot. Maybe next Tuesday if I have the gumption) was much more relaxed around all the guests than we thought he would be. He just kept licking his paw and then staring at it. But with all of that, there were conversations abounding regarding people refinancing their homes and discussing techniques on what they do when their children are crying and blah blah blah. It was quite disconcerting to be sitting there and between shots of whiskey to talk about my plans for remodeling the house and the market value of the neighborhood as "the next Canton" (for you non locals, Canton is a neighborhood in Baltimore that was kind of run down, but over the last 10 years or so has experienced a renaissance and is now one of the most expensive, some would say overpriced, neighborhoods in town). And discussing this made me happy because all I could think about were rising property values and what that would mean if and when we sell the place. As I typed those last couple of sentences, I died a little. It is like the Barenaked Ladies said, "Old at being young, young at being old". That has become the description of my life.
All in all, this has been a pretty boring entry. Not nearly as funny as I would have hoped. Still, I am back, and I will do my best to post again before Christmas, or at least before New Years Day. And as always, I will try to do better next time. If I am lucky, someone at work will piss me off this week. That is always good for a chortle.
Maybe I will post pics from the wedding. Once I figure out how to post pictures that aren't saved to the hard drive.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
I just had to share this
Honestly, if you haven't already done it, just click on the link directly above these words. I'll wait here patiently for you.
Okay, are you done wincing/giggling yet? Good.
Here is the beginning of a list of things I want:
1. Good news that doesn't involve car insurance.
2. To have a day when I wake up because my body is ready to, not because an pre-programmed artificial noise maker tells me it is time to.
3. To have at least one of those kind of days every week.
4. To find out that delivery pizza is actually a perfect food created by God that provides perfect nutritional balance for our lives.
5. To have my brilliance recognized by all.
6. To be brilliant at SOMETHING.
7. To discover that chocolate actually cures diabetes.
8. To find any cure for diabetes.
9. To find a way to make JabberJaws not speak for 15 minutes.
10. To play in the Super Bowl (not the halftime show).
I will probably come up with more, unless this becomes another "words that sound funny to me" kinda thing, in which case I apparently will NOT come up with any more. Besides, at least 4 of those were lame anyway. I just wanted to post the tasered genitals man link before it became commonly shared and it lost the power to shock people I send it too (pun pretty much unintended, but I like it, so as of this very second I am going to make it intentional).
Okay, are you done wincing/giggling yet? Good.
Here is the beginning of a list of things I want:
1. Good news that doesn't involve car insurance.
2. To have a day when I wake up because my body is ready to, not because an pre-programmed artificial noise maker tells me it is time to.
3. To have at least one of those kind of days every week.
4. To find out that delivery pizza is actually a perfect food created by God that provides perfect nutritional balance for our lives.
5. To have my brilliance recognized by all.
6. To be brilliant at SOMETHING.
7. To discover that chocolate actually cures diabetes.
8. To find any cure for diabetes.
9. To find a way to make JabberJaws not speak for 15 minutes.
10. To play in the Super Bowl (not the halftime show).
I will probably come up with more, unless this becomes another "words that sound funny to me" kinda thing, in which case I apparently will NOT come up with any more. Besides, at least 4 of those were lame anyway. I just wanted to post the tasered genitals man link before it became commonly shared and it lost the power to shock people I send it too (pun pretty much unintended, but I like it, so as of this very second I am going to make it intentional).
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
The Scottish Gypsy Book Club
okay, there are only 2 books. But both should be in your personal library. As for the other 3 pics, well, farts are always funny, superheores are always at least a little bit of an exhibitionist (hence the parading around in tights), and Ivy and Harley speak for themselves. They make me wish I was animated, or that my wife would pick up some new outfits not sold at Old Navy, if you know what I mean (although the makeup on Harley might be a bit much. And I would probably rather see her in the Linda Carter era Wonder Woman outfit before the Poison Ivy one. Perhaps I have said too much).
More Crap I Haven't Covered Yet
The link is a fun quiz if you know anything about super heroes or cleaning agents. I only got two wrong, and both ones I got wrong could have easily been at least minor characters from He-Man. Oh well.
There is a lot of crap I haven't gotten to yet, and I wanted to do it now, so without further ado...
To all the people who waited outside all night for a new XBox system, and more specifically to the gang who was outside the Towson Target last night...YOU ARE ALL MORONS!!!!! The concept of camping out for something like a game or a movie is beyond me. I saw all the jackasses in line for the first Star Wars prequel lo those many years ago (when the hell was that again? 1999? I lose track. Anyway, I made about three calls and found a theatre not 2 miles from where I was living at the time, and got tickets the day of. ANYTHING that isn't a one moment in time experience is not worth sitting outside in (at least here in Baltimore) mid to upper 30's and rainy weather. If this was 1965 and the Stones were coming to town (arguably the height of their power and showmanship as a band), I could see sleeping on the corner. But for a damn video game (especially when in spring the PS3 is coming out, and it will blow XBox out of the damn water), it is just not a smart thing to do. And as far as the crew who at 12:15 this morning was sitting outside of the Target in Towson goes, well if nothing else it was one hell of an exercise in group psychology. I felt like I was actually witnessing The Lord of the lies circa 2005. I was waiting for the IPod to start being passed around like a conch shell so the holder could be recognized and speak to the group. I even picked out which one was Piggy (hint - it was the fat guy).
I picked up a container of chocolate milk from the cafeteria this morning to go with my morning coffee. It just seemed like the right thing to do. It was a half pint container, just like we used to get in school. Was that really enough for us to drink back then? I was holding the thing in my hand (and in fact I am looking at it right now. I kept it as inspiration for the post. I drank it first though, otherwise it would be yogurt or cheese by now, and that's just wrong), and I felt like Andre the Giant holding Cary Elwes' neck in Princess Bride. Anybody want a peanut?
Christmas is rapidly approaching, and it is time for the office Secret Santa parade. For about 3 weeks, everybody has to pretend they like each other so they can get something off the list of three choices for under $20 they turned in to the office planner. The person (usually a woman suffering from Empty Nest Syndrome) who wants to involve everybody in morale building activities. But you have to be nice to the person (even if the planned activity would be preferrable only to "Let's inject our corneas with Boric Acid and go to Rock and Bowl" this Friday), because she (let's face it, it's always a she. No use for PC lingo here) will bake cookies and bring bagels and generally feed you good momma cooked food when she gets that urge to coddle. And I ain't gonna mess that up. And because I am in limbo between two offices, I get to play Secret Santa twice. But that means TWO pot luck lunches, which means TWO afternoons of eating and generally carousing on company time. And THAT, my friends, is worth having to buy two different people the Regis Philben Christmas album (with bonus version of the Notre Dame theme song as done by the St. Margaret's Unitarian Handbell Choir for that special feeling of Feliz Navidad Irish Style!).
Asian is leaving the Batcave. I overheard that she is accepting a promotion and moving upstairs. Honestly, I have mixed feelings about that. On one hand, I truly do like her, and will miss having her as a neighbor. But on the other hand, no more mumbling and complaining, and no more righteous indignation for no reason that anyone can find. I can only hope my new neighbor (if and when I get one) will be as entertaining.
And in news that was annoying to me at least, I lost my cell phone this past weekend. I know the last place I had it, but that did me and my friends who looked for it while I was at work (big thanks to Pat, Tony and Greg for the futile assist) absolutely no good. So Sunday I had to get a new phone. I needed one anyway, the 1 and 4 on my phone worked randomly if at all, and the volume control on the side only worked to turn it down. To turn it back up required you to push hard enough to almost break your finger. But still, the whole thing was a pain in the buttocks.
That should just about cover it for now. If anything comes up before Thanksgiving I shall let all of you know. If not, well Happy Thanksgiving to you all, and go local footbal squadron (this way you can repeat the sentiments wherever you may be).
There is a lot of crap I haven't gotten to yet, and I wanted to do it now, so without further ado...
To all the people who waited outside all night for a new XBox system, and more specifically to the gang who was outside the Towson Target last night...YOU ARE ALL MORONS!!!!! The concept of camping out for something like a game or a movie is beyond me. I saw all the jackasses in line for the first Star Wars prequel lo those many years ago (when the hell was that again? 1999? I lose track. Anyway, I made about three calls and found a theatre not 2 miles from where I was living at the time, and got tickets the day of. ANYTHING that isn't a one moment in time experience is not worth sitting outside in (at least here in Baltimore) mid to upper 30's and rainy weather. If this was 1965 and the Stones were coming to town (arguably the height of their power and showmanship as a band), I could see sleeping on the corner. But for a damn video game (especially when in spring the PS3 is coming out, and it will blow XBox out of the damn water), it is just not a smart thing to do. And as far as the crew who at 12:15 this morning was sitting outside of the Target in Towson goes, well if nothing else it was one hell of an exercise in group psychology. I felt like I was actually witnessing The Lord of the lies circa 2005. I was waiting for the IPod to start being passed around like a conch shell so the holder could be recognized and speak to the group. I even picked out which one was Piggy (hint - it was the fat guy).
I picked up a container of chocolate milk from the cafeteria this morning to go with my morning coffee. It just seemed like the right thing to do. It was a half pint container, just like we used to get in school. Was that really enough for us to drink back then? I was holding the thing in my hand (and in fact I am looking at it right now. I kept it as inspiration for the post. I drank it first though, otherwise it would be yogurt or cheese by now, and that's just wrong), and I felt like Andre the Giant holding Cary Elwes' neck in Princess Bride. Anybody want a peanut?
Christmas is rapidly approaching, and it is time for the office Secret Santa parade. For about 3 weeks, everybody has to pretend they like each other so they can get something off the list of three choices for under $20 they turned in to the office planner. The person (usually a woman suffering from Empty Nest Syndrome) who wants to involve everybody in morale building activities. But you have to be nice to the person (even if the planned activity would be preferrable only to "Let's inject our corneas with Boric Acid and go to Rock and Bowl" this Friday), because she (let's face it, it's always a she. No use for PC lingo here) will bake cookies and bring bagels and generally feed you good momma cooked food when she gets that urge to coddle. And I ain't gonna mess that up. And because I am in limbo between two offices, I get to play Secret Santa twice. But that means TWO pot luck lunches, which means TWO afternoons of eating and generally carousing on company time. And THAT, my friends, is worth having to buy two different people the Regis Philben Christmas album (with bonus version of the Notre Dame theme song as done by the St. Margaret's Unitarian Handbell Choir for that special feeling of Feliz Navidad Irish Style!).
Asian is leaving the Batcave. I overheard that she is accepting a promotion and moving upstairs. Honestly, I have mixed feelings about that. On one hand, I truly do like her, and will miss having her as a neighbor. But on the other hand, no more mumbling and complaining, and no more righteous indignation for no reason that anyone can find. I can only hope my new neighbor (if and when I get one) will be as entertaining.
And in news that was annoying to me at least, I lost my cell phone this past weekend. I know the last place I had it, but that did me and my friends who looked for it while I was at work (big thanks to Pat, Tony and Greg for the futile assist) absolutely no good. So Sunday I had to get a new phone. I needed one anyway, the 1 and 4 on my phone worked randomly if at all, and the volume control on the side only worked to turn it down. To turn it back up required you to push hard enough to almost break your finger. But still, the whole thing was a pain in the buttocks.
That should just about cover it for now. If anything comes up before Thanksgiving I shall let all of you know. If not, well Happy Thanksgiving to you all, and go local footbal squadron (this way you can repeat the sentiments wherever you may be).
A mouse pissed in my shoe this morning
Yup. Tis true. I woke up and was getting ready for work, and was about to reach down to grab my shoe, and I saw a medium sized field mouse perched on the top of my shoe, right above the foot hole. I looked at it, and it wasn't moving at all. I kicked a box next to my shoe, no movement. I honestly thought it was dead, but I was still hesitant. Finally, my realization that I was already running late for work and was only getting later (the fact that I95 South was a damn parking lot all the way to he tunnels didn't help my tardiness one bit) made me reach down for my shoes, at which time he scampered into the shoe itself. I immediately covered that shoe with the other one, and roused my wife (who to her credit did not freak out at all, which I was expecting her to do from her response to mice. The fact that she took a perversely large amount of joy from the eventual outcome of Stuart Not-So-Little is a little worrisome though). She opened the door and lifted the lid to the toilet for me. Yes that is right, I sent the mouseto go turd surfing. I thought of throwing him out the back door (which is what I usually do with insects, except for bees), but honestly, Baltimore has such a problem with mice and rats that it didn't seem fair. And I couldn't just snap the things neck the way she waned to (another outcome my wife alluded to this morning. Specifically she said "Compared to what I would have done to it that was nothing" when I expressed remorse over flushing it down the john. It took 2 flushes by the way. That was the worst part. Watching it swim vainly upstream and beating the tidal wave the first time, its little paws trying to find purchase on the porcelain bowl, and hiting the lever the second time to watch it lose and float down the river of dreams that is the Baltimore City Sewer System). After all of this. I was about to put my shoe on (I took great pains to shake it out over the toilet, expecting to find droppings in at least one of my shoes, making me wonder how many times I have put on shoes w/mouse shit in them since we moved in almost 7 months ago), when I happened to look in it and saw the big wet spot. These are my only black shoes (I know, typical male. Bite me if you don't like it). I sprayed anti-bacterial disenfectant into them, but I am just not sure I can wear them again. I might have to get new ones on the way to work tonight. Dammit.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Friday, November 11, 2005
Picture pages
I'll be honest. I am in a bit of a crappy mood today, and I am just waiting for the chance to get the hell out of work, NOT go to my night job (yay for scheduled days off!), and go home. Of course, I have a bunch of crap to do before the sweet embrace of sleep, but either way, I am going to relax. RELAX DAMMIT!!!!!!
I did just get a major project here at the good old hospital done, and so I am taking it easy today. So I am going to randomly post pictures I have saved on my computer here at work. They might be photos, or stuff pilfered from some of my favorite sites (namely Something Awful and Superdickery. They are linked over there on the right. Go there and enjoy yourself). Either way, enjoy the slices of my psyche.
And a special Shout-Out to Really This Weird who hipped me on the picture pasting, and whose blog (also linked to the right) is fast becoming required reading for those who can read. So Arkansas is out, but everybody else...DO IT!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
REAL quick hit
I hve to post this, it is cracking me up. Asian and I got into a verbal disagreement on Monday. Details are kind of boring. Maybe I will post them later, maybe not. Either way, as a result of the disagreement, I stated I am not going to speak anymore, because whenever I do it comes back on me, and I am tired of games. I will be cordial, and speak when spoken to, and I will be polite. But I am not joking around any more, because it isn't worth the heartburn. Well, today she made a point of coming into the office and saying hello to people by name, omitting my name. It didn't bother me. The fact that it didn't bother me bothered her it seems. Now I keep seeing her in my peripheral vision staring at me, glowering almost. I feel like one of us is going to wind up challenging the other to meet in front of the swings after school. It is kind of pathetic. I learned within a couple weeks of working across the row of cubicles from her to ignore her running commentary. "I'm tired". "They hung up on me". Blah blah blah. Not said loud, just verbalized because she needs attention. I am pretty sure that I am the only one in the office who can hear her almost constant updates on her health and well being, as well as the goings on in her business (and WAY too often her personal life). I just turn my music on and drift away.
The hardest part of this whole excursion in inanity is not smiling/laughing when I catch her glaring at me, waiting for me to break, or whatever the hell it is she hopes to accomplish by staring at me while she talks on the phone.
I work in an office of 12 year olds (the two co-workers down here in the basement who are aware of the existence of this blog and have my permission to read it are of course exempt from the age limitation).
The hardest part of this whole excursion in inanity is not smiling/laughing when I catch her glaring at me, waiting for me to break, or whatever the hell it is she hopes to accomplish by staring at me while she talks on the phone.
I work in an office of 12 year olds (the two co-workers down here in the basement who are aware of the existence of this blog and have my permission to read it are of course exempt from the age limitation).
Jabberjaws has dentures
I have a lot of things that I want to cover, and unfortunately I do not have the time to delve into all of them. I plan on doing some posting this weekend, so hopefully I will be able to catch up. But I have to take a break from my data entry/drone-like existence and my whole wheat bagel (which I am letting absorb the butter I put on top. YUM) to tell you about my new, most favorite annoyance here in the office. In the interest of protecting myself and to give myself a semblance of a conscience as far as naming those who should be thinned from the herd out loud, I shall call this annoyance Blabs. Because THAT IS ALL SHE DOES. She talks and talks. I do not envy her husband, and I am sure that he spends an inordinate amount of time in the garage. I am not being mean when I say that. I know it is fact. SHE TOLD ME. She tells everybody EVERYTHING. For instance, I just found out that due to her allergies, she has to use unscented deoderant.
I haven't even had a chance to drink my morning coffee yet.
The thought of those lunch-lady arms and wrinkles with wrinkles and the shoulder harness that must be her undergarments and her raising her arm to use unscented Mitchum...I am feeling a little nauseous.
And she just keeps going. There isn't a moment of peace when she is here (thank whatever God you believe in for me that she only works part time). Now she is talking about the Salem Witch Trials and the history behind them and what the prevailing theory as to what started them (a girl had an epileptic seizure and a woman was accused. The rest of the girls faked it, setting the stage for all women and the words "faking it" for the rest of existence. But tell the truth, would you rather your woman fake an orgasm to make you feel better or fake demonic possession in order to have you burned at the stake?). My only problem is, why didn't she use her nurse training to diagnose the poor girl? Hell, I have no doubt she was actually there.
If this continues, I will be drinking "Grampa's special Coffee" by Thanksgiving. At least a pot a day.
I haven't even had a chance to drink my morning coffee yet.
The thought of those lunch-lady arms and wrinkles with wrinkles and the shoulder harness that must be her undergarments and her raising her arm to use unscented Mitchum...I am feeling a little nauseous.
And she just keeps going. There isn't a moment of peace when she is here (thank whatever God you believe in for me that she only works part time). Now she is talking about the Salem Witch Trials and the history behind them and what the prevailing theory as to what started them (a girl had an epileptic seizure and a woman was accused. The rest of the girls faked it, setting the stage for all women and the words "faking it" for the rest of existence. But tell the truth, would you rather your woman fake an orgasm to make you feel better or fake demonic possession in order to have you burned at the stake?). My only problem is, why didn't she use her nurse training to diagnose the poor girl? Hell, I have no doubt she was actually there.
If this continues, I will be drinking "Grampa's special Coffee" by Thanksgiving. At least a pot a day.
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