Give Peace the Finger

I have got to stop reading news stories. Maybe I should start hitting up Comic Book sites or spend my lunch breaks cruising Apple.com for trailers. There are genuine news stories that just make me want to fling the monitor across the office.

Take this story for instance: Christian Peacemaker Teams were abducted in Iraq. One American, One Brit, and Two Canadians. CPT blames the US and UK for the abductions “due to the illegal attack on Iraq and the continuing occupation and oppression of its people.”

Huh. Can’t blame the kidnappers, nope, they couldn’t help it. The Coalition Forces twisted the terrorists’ arms and made them say ‘Uncle” then told them to pick up a couple of old white dudes and their two Canadian Kwikie-Mart owner buddies.

C’mon…are you serious? This is what is so fucked up about some Liberals. These poor guys are probably going to get chopped up and instead of placing the blame on the twisted shit-stained, coward ass-bag terrorists…they’re going to blame the US.

Why not, everyone else does.

Here's the "kicker". The CPT's motto: "Committed to Reducing violence, by getting in the way." That's NOT in the article.

These people purposely put themselves in harm's way in order to stop violence. What stupid fucking morons. The CPT released a statement that read in part, "We fear that whoever is holding them has made a mistake."

No, Bright-mind, you jack-pipes made the mistake. You think these animals give a shit about who is or who is not in the US/UK military. They don't care what your mission statement is. Nope...they saw four Christians and said, TARGET ACQUIRED.

Don't you get it!?! Muslims HATE Christians...at least those Muslims do. You're an infidel. You might as well have been carrying a M-16 instead of a bible. It's the same thing to them. Dumb-ass.

I really want to feel sorry for these guys. Really. If they lose their heads, I'll be upset, but it's almost like feeling sorry for the Crocodile Hunter when a snake bites him...after he's fucked with it for 20 minutes. You can't be surprised that they've been abducted. They probably went door to door and asked to be kidnapped and paraded across Al-Ghraib-ur-Boob'i TV.

Any entity that is not directly related to security or the military has no business being in Iraq. You’re practically putting a friggin sign on your neck that screams CUT ME! Anybody that needs a harsh reminder of what these animals are capable of, can go to MichaelSavage.com. Most western companies have moved their people out. If you’re still there, you’re at risk, all the time. These finger pointers aren’t helping anybody BUT the terrorists.

Don’t coddle these bastards, they’re terrorists…cowards. They can’t take on the real armed forces, so they go for non-combatants, civilians. Pure fucking cowards. If you support them, in any way, you are not helping anyone...not even the scum-fuck terrorist towel heads. They'll keep believing the whole Virgins in Heaven thing and we'll have more headless bodies.

I have to go kick something.

Quick LINGO Update

The Game continues...

Spoken during a meeting yesterday:

"anydated" = inundated
Sentence: "I don't want to be anydated with orders."

"re-enter-ate" = reiterate
Sentence: "I will re-enter-ate with him about the r'quirements."

"ideal", one instance.

Email this morning:

“And also would like to give you heads up you might need to kit some unites by the end if Dec or beginning of January.”

Points: 18 for meetings, only 1 point for Email...spell check wouldn't have tagged this one.

Black Friday

This day reminds me of when I used to work in the retail industry and why now I’m not.

Nothing will kill your holiday spirit faster than working retail. People are stupid, but when they think they can get a deal…they become the espresso of stupid.

I’ve worked for a toy store, a men’s apparel store, a shoe store, and a video store…all mall based. I’m still in therapy over the men’s clothing store episode in my life.

The worst and was the toy store and the video store. It’s insulting how far people think they can push you for a discount or a refund. On one hand, I could have given a shit about giving out refunds…it’s not my money and the shit was broke. However, some people automatically think that they need to start yelling and degrading you to get what they want.

Oh…you want to fight…then you ain’t getting shit. Read the sign: No receipt, no refund. Fuck off…and have a happy holiday.

I always loved messing with people like this. I always knew when I had them at the edge of sanity…they uttered the famous words, say them with me:

“Let me speak to your manager.”

Guess what…that’s was me, every time. The rest of the exchange goes something like this:

“You’re speaking to him now.”

“Then let me speak to your supervisor, get them on the phone.”

“No. My supervisor is in, (insert major metropolitan city 1000 miles away).”

“Get them on the phone right now.”

“No.”

“Are you being smart with me?”

“I’m not being smart with you, because you’re not being smart with me.”

It goes on like this for several minutes and eventually they either leave or take a store credit. This happened so many times that I’ve lost count.

Once, on this very same day, I had a lady call me a liar. She came into the video store to return a pile of opened video tapes. She was speaking to another manager, who had just told her that since everything was opened all he could do was exchange them. She then pointed to me…I was standing nearby helping another customer…and said that I helped her originally and that I said it was ok to open all the movies and bring them back.

The other manager said told her again what our policy was and that no one working at the store would have authorized that. (By then, I was paying more attention to the situation.) She then turned to me, looked me dead in the eye, and told the other manager:

“Then HE’S A LIAR!”

Usually, I’ve got a good grip on my anger, especially at work. But this woman flipped my switch. I walked over to her, placed everything she brought in to return back in her bag…she kept repeating over and over “whatareyoudoing,whatareyoudoing”…handed her the bag, leaned in close and told her:

“Take your shit and get out of my store.”

“You can’t talk to me like that…who’s your…” I cut her off.

“I just did and if you have a problem with it you can call our home office…(she tries to cut in…I don’t let her.) look up the number ‘cause no one here is going to help you any further. There are four other stores in this city, go try your song and dance with them. Now leave or be removed. Merry Christmas.”

She cussed her way out of the store, made threats…blah, blah, blah.

Oddly enough, I was not fired over the incident. Apparently, she did try to go to another store…but, instead of telling the store manager over there what I had done, she did the same thing as she had with me. Unfortunately for her, I had called all of the stores and let them know about a possible friendly visit from a psycho, so they were prepared.

I quit the manager position that next spring and worked part time for another few months before I’d had enough. It’s been nine years since I had to work a Black Friday and in the last 5 years I’ve started to re-develop my love for Christmas…but, it’s a long hard road to recovery.

Anyone else have an incident they’d like to get off their chest?

Dutch Dominos

Endangered species…when are we going to get over this? I mean when are we going to say, “ok we can’t save everything”. It’s another example of taking a good thing too far.

I picked up a story about how some Dutch television show broke the world record for domino drops…to the tune of 4.1 million. Remember how that was big in the US back in the eighties…way to stay hip, Netherlands!

Well, it turns out, during the set up a Dutch house sparrow flew into the area and knocked over 23,000 dominos. A local ORKIN man was called out and he “captured” the bird with a shot from an air rifle. Seems it’s much easier to capture a dead bird than one still flapping around.

As fate would have it…the offending bird was and “endangered” species. A fucking sparrow is an endangered species in the Netherlands. Are you kidding me with this crap? Apparently the species, according to the AP, is down to less than 1 MILLION breeding pairs. For comparison, the Netherlands have a human breeding population of just over 8 million pairs.

Anyway, there was the obligatory public outcry from the animal rights groups. They set up a web site for mourners that got tagged by at least 5,000.

Here’s the Alanis-type irony in the story: The exterminator reportedly had received several death threats for his actions. That’s right, the people who want to save the birds, want to kill this guy for doing his job. How completely fucked up does that sound?

This was a friggin sparrow! Not even some really rare breed of sparrow, it was a common house sparrow. If they’re so endangered in the Netherlands, let’s send them some of ours…I’ve got plenty around here that like to shit on my truck! While we’re at it, let’s export some of these damn Canadian Geese…they’re protected too.

Was killing the sparrow a bit over the top? Yeah, maybe. But did it really need the attention of all those people? No. Sparrows die all the time…they’re friggin everywhere. I’m not an ornithologist, but I’m willing to bet that the common sparrow is second only to the pigeon in worldwide population of bird species and some poor Dutch guy is getting death letters ‘cause he popped one.

What should have prompted public outrage is the fact that a television station dedicated the man-hours to setting up 4 million dominos, just to knock them over. If the Dutch are that hard-up for entertainment, they should start importing some re-runs of the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire or Knight Rider.

Domino, Mutha-Fucka!

In Non-Denominational Entity or No Higher Power We Trust

Anybody remember the atheist in San Francisco that tried to get the Pledge of Allegiance banned from public schools? Well apparently Michael Newdow isn’t done milking his 15 mins of fame. Now the hairless monkey is trying to get the words “In God We Trust” taking off of American currency.

I mock religion…a lot. But, this is just some sad attempt at taking a jab at conservatives. Is anyone really that offended at the word "GOD" is on money? Does anyone truly feel as though they are being prejudiced against because of a Fiver?

Pick your battles, dude. This ain’t the one.

Let’s face it. This nation was founded by Christians…not atheists, not Muslims, not Buddhists, not Wiccans, not even Flying Spaghetti Monster-ites. While I may not agree with Christians on their vision of what is and is not right, I really don’t care if the word God is on money.

I guess that’s what bugs me about this whole argument that he’s trying to sell people on. He thinks that it’s unconstitutional. “In God We Trust” is, in his view, a governmental support of God.

He may be right…or he may be an idiot. I’ll go with the last one. This is a really stupid waste of time. I hope that he loses everything he owns in court costs fighting this. Of course, some Hollywood jack-ass will support his monkey nuts. He’ll get a book deal…probably a Showtime Movie with him masturbating to a Spawn Comic…anything to keep his ugly mug in front of a camera.

I wonder if Cindy Sheehan is looking for someone to go on tour with.

Snooze Button

I am a habitual snooze button masher. I will lay in bed, sometimes for a full hour or more, hitting the snooze button every 9 minutes. I’ll bounce in and out of true REM sleep the entire time until finally, I roll my carcass out of bed.

This ability amazes my friends and torments my wife. My wife is one of those people who can immediately wake up and start her day. I have this ability too, however it’s only induced by extreme measures…like: burst water pipes, gun fire, screaming child, barking dogs, and acid reflux (I’ll save those stories for another day.)

I also have the ability to sleep through the alarm. It could and has gone off for an hour or more before it actually breaks through my lucidity and forces me to hit the snooze. Again, to the amazement of friends and torment of my wife.

You know those little metal balls that sit on executives’ desks that hang from a series of strings and click back and forth? Wait, that doesn’t sound right. How about this analogy…the scene in my bedroom on most work days looks like some twisted game of “pass it on.” The alarm goes off…my wife slaps me on the chest...I reach over and slap the snooze. This will happen two or three times, then my wife will get out of bed and leave me to my game of “Snooze You Lose” as I continue to grasp at small portions of sleep, exactly 9 minutes apart.

As of Thursday morning, my life is in complete shambles. I broke the snooze button. This has never happened to me before, so it throws off my morning routine. Most people have a set series of actions that they know they can do in the exact amount of time from waking up to arriving at work. I’m one of those people and I’ve got it down to exactly one hour and 5 minutes including dropping my son off at school. Now…I’m screwed.

The first morning was the worst…my brain isn’t prepared to handle tough problem solving that early. So, after five or six futile attempts at tripping the snooze feature, I turned off the alarm and went right back to sleep. And so did my wife, who had no clue that there was an issue with the snooze function.

There was a lot of rushing around that morning, which included the obligatory finger pointing and disbelief that there was actually anything wrong with the snooze button. Considering my mind set, I conceded that it was possible that I dreamed the whole incident…and we went about our day.

The next day I found a feature on the clock that is very similar to the snooze, but just different enough to completely fuck with my brain. The button, which in the five years of owning this clock I had never used or realized it existed, is located less than ¼ inch from the snooze button. It’s called “Alarm Reset”. It turns off the alarm like snooze does, however the alarm will not sound again for 24 hours. Not good if you’re expecting only 9 minutes.

Again, there was much rushing around.

So why did the snooze button suddenly stop working? It cannot possibly be the 5200+ times that I’ve hit that button in the last 5 years. I blame our throw away society that builds alarm clocks using the cheapest labor and materials. Tester Number 5 in China should not have cleared this malfunctioning demon box for release to the general public. If I could remember where I bought this, I’d return it…maybe Nordstrom’s will take it back.

There are several items in this world that should be indestructible by normal human interaction: Door Handles, Shoe Laces, Soft Soap Dispensers, Straws, Zippers, TV Remotes, and Snooze Buttons.

Please write your congressman.

Meetings, or How I never get anything done in a day.

I was stuck in meetings all day today. That sucks for a guy like me. I understand the need to meet with clients and get an understanding of their work flow and processes, but damn…my whole day was shot. I'm a hands on, get it done and stop talking about it kind of guy.

The last meeting was the stickiest.

As you know, my loyal readers, I work at a warehousing and transportation business. The last meeting of the day was with one of our already existing accounts that wants to expand on the business and give us some kit building fulfillment. (Kits = assembly of components to make a whole unit) This customer is a supplier of computer accessories to another supplier of a large computer manufacturer. It’s a complicated tree of back scratching that is surprisingly legal.

Anyway…I came in towards the tail end of the meeting and missed most of the process explanations and systems requirements. Basically, everything that I needed to know. As usual, our salesman vomited commitments and promises to our client that we can’t do…but that’s not what I’m writing about today.

This client is just…icky. He’s the kind of guy that makes you want to take a shower after talking with him. He gave off this strange vibe that I’m still not sure if I can explain it correctly.

It was like talking to a merchant in some dusty middle eastern bazaar. One where the peddler is subtly haggling while telling you stories of his family and experiences…there’s this constant undertone that you’re in the middle of a deal, yet he’s making small talk and getting very personal. We continued to bounce in and out of business, serious then joking, it was almost hypnotic…except I was revolted by the whole deal.

At one point, right after some off the cuff joke, he looks across the table at me very seriously. He tells me he does not want the other supplier to see the inventory for this new business. He starts making several assumptions that this other supplier and I are “tight”.

I laughed. He was talking about another guy who lives 5 states away that I’ve never even spoken to directly. Yet…we’re so tight that I’d just divulge proprietary information like some babbling little 14 year old girl talking to her girlfriends on the phone. What eh-ver.

Still the client stays serious and goes on and on about how it’s none of the other supplier’s business…blah,blah,blah.

It was very “Cloak and Dagger.” I’m thinking to myself…this isn’t State Secrets, it’s friggin’ PC components and not even highend components. This is crap you’d buy at Target and this guys acting like I’m going to give his social security number to a hacker.

People who take themselves too seriously bug the shit out me. So that didn’t help this guy’s impression on me.

So…there I am stuck with this guy and his crony who turned out to be the company “Controller.” I like that title for some reason, it sounds so much more than it really is. That guy was ok…except he had Pug eyes. You know, the eyes that don’t meet in the middle like they should and you can’t ever tell if the guy is looking at you or the person next to you. He covered it up well, so I kind of felt for the guy since he’s probably been dealing with that since he was a kid…but, I’m getting off topic.

This meeting ended up being 2 hours longer than it needed to be…and then he wanted me to join him and Controller for dinner. Normally, I’d jump at the chance to hang out with a client and eat expensive food. But, with this guy, I’d spend all night wondering when the steak knife would end up in my back and my cash in his hand.

Time to bathe.

Epiphany or Marriage Counciling

Last night, I had an epiphany. Quite by accident and at a time that I don’t normally have wondering thoughts, a hypothesis happened upon my very receptive consciousness.

Sex is a pain killer.

Guys…you’ll understand a bit better than the girls, but I think they’ll catch on.

Evidence:

Guys, remember the last time your Franks ‘N Beans were “slightly” grazed by some foreign object…no I don’t mean Keira Knightley. Like those times when you’re walking and someone bumps into and their leg or arm just grazes the Twins. About 15 seconds later, you’re doubled over trying desperately to breath.

The Phantom Nut-racking…fatal to some men…debilitating to others.

Fact:

A man’s testicles are two very sensitive pieces of equipment, affected by climate and environmental changes.

Theory:

Sex negates the pain receptors in the testicles when the owner/operator is in the “command” position. (Command position is any position where the man is “driving”, so to speak.)

Evidence for theory:

During a vigorous encounter with my wife in the Doggie Style position…we really need to rename that…I became VERY aware that my man-sack was beating against my wife’s pelvic region like the head of a conga drum. I felt no pain. None. I could hear my Spaldings slapping collectively against my wife and it didn’t hurt at all.

How can I hit it like a speed bag and come away all smiles in that situation, yet cry like a kicked puppy if I drop a pad of paper in my lap? WTF?

Obviously, sex turns off those pain receptors. It’s got to be similar to walking on hot coals. A guy’s mind must go into a Zen-like meditative state, blocking the pain or substituting it for pleasure.

That means I’m a freak’n sadomasochistic shaolin sex master!

So, guys, next time you and the lady are in the mood, tell her you want to try the “Meditating Lotus Petal” position.

Anyone care to provide an alternative theory?

Fuji or Kodak...the new penis envy.

Sales and Marketing people are cockbites. They are a bunch of lying, backstabbing, double talking, suck-holes.

Why is my race/age/nationality constantly being touted as the joke-ponies of the new millennium? Nearly all of the commercials today have a central figure who’s some 25 to 35 year old white American male that’s a fucking moron. He’s the guy that’s always got the “went to bed with wet hair” look and clothes bought at a yard sale who can’t figure out how to A) order a meal. B) Buy a car like a man. C) make a decision that his wife approves of.

The latest tripe marketing ploy is this new digital video camera that has a hard drive. The big hook is that you don’t have to fumble with changing the disk.

How do they hook you? They show this white American guy fumbling with a camera like he’s got a Polio arm. Meanwhile, his ever faithful wife/girlfriend gets swept off her feet by some smarmy Europhite.

So…the gist of this commercial is, you’re a fucking loser who’ll only keep your girl if you don’t have to change your disk.

Ok…here’s the reality. If I take my wife to Europe and the minute I turn my back she wraps her legs around the first Guido that walks by…it ain’t because of the camera. She’s a fucking slut. I’m not an idiot for having a shitty camera…I’m an idiot for traveling with that whore.

Also, what's so hard about changing a fucking disk? Are we so lazy and impatient that we can't take 2 minutes to change out a disk in a camera? AND we're supposed to believe that during this two minutes, our significant other...who's also lazy and impatient...will fuck off with the first schmuck that comes along and says "hi".

It’s not enough that we American men have to live with penis envy. Now this concept keeps getting transferred over and over again into everything else. And the message is always the same:

You’re white, American, under 40…you’re so inadequate. But…buy this now and you’ll stand out. Chicks will want you and guys will envy you. And no one will notice that you can’t dance, play sports, and dress well or that you have a small dick.

It’s like some kind of passive aggressive forced penance for the years and years of racial bullshit that Caucasians have doused upon the nation once upon a time.

Don’t read this wrong. I’m not saying that the years of racism that happened should be forgotten. No. I’m saying the son shouldn’t pay for the sins of the father. Politically Correct actions should be a two way street…but, that’s not the nature of man. There’s always got to be someone who’s the ass of the joke.

Right now, it’s me. So go ahead, sheep, laugh and buy your hard-drive camcorders and feed your cash back into some foreign company pushing out electronics made by some 12 year-old South Korean kid making $2 a week.

My dick don't hit the bottom...but I fuck the sides up.

Quick Shot

Just a few quick observations and quotes:

On Terrell Owen's public apology for being such a fucking selfish moron...
My favorite quote so far on this came from a reporter who asked T.O.'s agent point blank, "What have you done for you client in the last 5 months, besides get him fired?"

Gold, pure gold.

On Halloween on the Westside of Indianapolis:
The wife and I are walking with our son as he's Trick-Or-Treating through our neighborhood and as we come to one house I notice that there are several people on the front porch handing out candy to a boy dressed as Bob The Builder as his mom watches on from a few feet away. As my son walks up the front steps, he passes a can on the front walkway of the home. Upon, further inspection I notice it's a can of Coors Lite. My first thought is that this house is having a nice little Halloween party and some dumbfuck left his soldier behind.

So, Bob the Builder comes bounding off the porch and heads blindly down the walkway looking intently in his candy bag for his latest score. As you can probably guess, just as I'm trying to stop him, he trips over the beer.

Right before I'm about to pick up the can and hand it to the people on the porch, with a few choice words about safety...young Bob's mom reaches down, picks up the can, takes a drink, and shuffles her little construction worker on his way.

WTF?!?

My wife stops me before I ruin a perfectly good holiday for our son.

On Paris:
Would you like some Freedom Fries with that roasted Crossant?

On the new Supreme Court nominee:
GW is trying to prove a point, "Oh, so you didn't like the Old Broad...suck on this ultra-conservitive who'll set back the clocks on your asses. Fight over this one."

On LINGO:
Word - FIFT.
Meaning: Numerical value after fourth.
Sentence used: "...and we were fift in line."
Points: 12. (Story was repeated in two separate meetings.)

Word - METEOR.
Meaning: One who reconciles disputes between two parties.
Sentence used: "When you and (insert client name) have your call, I want to be your meteor."
Points: 6.

Current standings: 2nd with 899 points. (I missed a few meetings where ideal was used repeatedly.)

More later once I'm unburied at work.

New meaning to the term "SLIDERS"

I’ve been out of it for a while so bear with me. The following is based on an older story…

There is a place in Arizona, the San Francisco Peaks, that the Coconino National Forest is trying to turn to shit. Literally. San Francisco Peaks…who really should change the name…has a ski resort type area called Arizona Snowbowl (which makes this story even more funny) near Flagstaff.

Get this. They want to pump waste water up the mountain and use it to make fake snow.

What the fuck? You seriously want to coat your mountain in shit and call it snow? Who skis there? Blind Anosmiacs? (Look it up.)

Naturally the environmentalists are out in full force as well as the several Indian…oops, I mean Native American Groups trying to block this decision.

Here’s the punch line…

These peaks are sacred to several Indian…damn…I mean Native American tribes. One of which is the Navajo.

And what do the Navajo call this mountain?

Dook’o’sliid.

I’m not making that up…really…it’s Dook’o’sliid. I don’t know what that means in Navajo…but it means “Dookie slide” in Indiana.

Check out the story here.