Monday, January 26, 2009
Every fight is a food fight when you're a cannibal.
I think the worst time to have a heart attack is during a game of charades.
P / M + F = S - 1 = BS (Pizza divided by Me and my Friends equals one Slice less than I want, which is BullShit!)
I want to buy a bunch of hermit crabs and make them live together.
Saying "I apologize" is the same as saying "I'm sorry". Except at a funeral.
When you have a fat friend there are no see-saws. Only catapults.
I wanna make a jigsaw puzzle that’s 40,000 pieces. And when you finish it, it says "Go outside!"
The easiest time to add insult to injury is when you’re signing somebody’s cast.
I used to play sports.
Then I realized you can buy trophies.
Now I’m good at everything.
I was making pancakes the other day and a fly flew into the kitchen.
And that’s when I realized that a spatula is a lot like a fly-swatter.
And a crushed fly is a lot like a blueberry.
And a roommate is a lot like a fly eater.
The digital camera is a great invention because it allows us to reminisce. Instantly.
If I ever saw an amputee getting hanged, I’d probably just start calling out letters.
A quick way to start a conversation is to say something like “What’s your favorite color?” A quick way to end a conversation is to say something like “What’s your favorite color … person?"
What do you call someone who can’t tell the difference between a spoon and a ladle? Fat.
"Hot Potato" would be a much more different game if the people playing it were starving. Then it could be called "My Potato".
I think they named oranges before they named carrots.
"What are these?"
"Those are oranges."
"Then what are these?"
"Oh, shit. Long pointies?"
The thing about glitter is if you get it on you, prepare to have it on you forever because glitter doesn’t go away. Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies. It’s like, oh great here comes the sun; flare up!
I have a time machine at home. It only goes forward, at regular speed.
I like the game rock paper scissors, but two-thirds.
Like Rock beats Scissors. "Oh man, these scissors are all bent, I can't cut with them, you win."
Or Scissors beats Paper. "This paper is cut into strips, it’s useless, I can't write on it, you win."
Then, Paper beats Rock ... Rock is fine! There is no structural damage to rock. Rock can break through paper whenever it wants. Paper sucks.
It should be Rock, Explosives with a Cuttable Wick, Scissors.
I saw a transvestite wearing a shirt that said "Guess".
If you want to make your own mythical creature all you have to do is add wings. A horse becomes a Pegasis. A lion becomes a griffin. And a hawk becomes ... a double hawk, "I’m awkward".
Cottonwool balls is an example of something I would buy, but not like to have as a nickname.
Cinnamon buns, on the other hand, is something I would buy and like to have as a nickname.
People would be like, "Are you Cinnamon Buns?", and I would be like, "You bet your sweet ass!"
Employee of the month is a good example of how somebody can be both a winner and a loser at the same time.
I like to use "I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter" on my toast in the morning, because sometimes when I eat breakfast, I like to be incredulous. "How was breakfast?" "Unbelievable."
A lot of people don’t like bumper stickers. I don’t mind bumper stickers. To me a bumper sticker is a shortcut. It’s like a little sign that says "Hey, let’s never hang out."
game set match = tennis
set match run = arson
This summer I learned that there’s a difference between peeing in the pool and peeing into the pool.
I’m in a weird situation because I like rainbows ... but I’m not gay. So, I wear a rainbow on my shirt - but then under it, it says “not gay”. But I’m not against gay people, so under that I have to put “but supportive”. I just think its weird that one group took refracted light. That’s preeetty greedy, gays.
I saw a sign that said “Watch for children” and I thought, that sounds like a fair trade, especially if they’re crappy kids.
If i ever have to go up in a building I choose the elevator over the escalator, because one time I was riding the escalator and I tripped. I fell down the stairs ... for an hour and a half.
I think they should put pies on the front of trains, because then if it hits someone it’s at least a little bit funny.
I feel stupid when I write the word banana. Its like, how many na’s are on this thing? ‘Cause I’m like "Bana … keep going. Bananana … damn."
I saw a door onetime that said "Exit Only". So I entered it, and I went up to the guy working there and said, "I have some good news. You have severely underestimated this door here. By like 100%, man."
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Then I forgot to stop at the bank on my way into work (which didn’t really bother me all that much … I was gabbing with Mom on the phone). Easy fix; I’ll just stop tomorrow morning.
Then I thoroughly harassed a couple of the guys once I got to the plant … that was great fun … they just spent a few days in Orlando, FL as guests of one of our vendors at their big annual shindig. Losers! And I say that with utmost jealousy … I’d have skipped the seminars (except the one where Mike Rowe spoke … you know how I love Deadliest Catch) and ridden it out at Disney!
Then I talked to HR briefly for G, who was downsized Tuesday (have I mentioned this economy SUCKS?).
Then we were all called into a meeting only to be told one of our people was downsized today … I mean, he was there this morning and gone this afternoon. And he’s dedicated years to this place. The general consensus is shitfuckdamnpissandhell. So we’re all bummed.
I know the media says this “economic downturn” is going to really screw with all aspects of life as we know it, but I never truly expected to actually know people who were impacted. The last time it was this bad was in the 70's, for crying out loud! And Mom and Dad never let us kids know how bad it really was.
Anyway, while feeling horrible about my friends’ situations, I think what sucks most is that little voice in the back of my head that says, “knock wood …”
And I know this is nit-picking, but puhleeze tell me you see the humor in the fact that one of President Obama's first official actions, after advising all and sundry of his intent to make government less secretive and more transparent, was to re-take his oath, in secret (psst! over here!), in the Oval Office?
Yes, yes ... I know why he did it, it even makes sense; I'm just saying ... funny!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
I’ve had a few furry family members over the years, and have a bunch now, but none have been around as long as my Joseph William, AKA Guiseppe Guillermo, who just celebrated his 16th Christmas. Well, not really – Joey’s never “celebrated” a holiday in his life; he’s a cat, for crying out loud! But you get my point: I don’t really remember not having Joey around. He’s lived with me in RI, NJ, RI again, and now MO. Aside from my human family, he’s been the biggest constant in my life.
And he’s always enjoyed robust health, until recently. I got Ben and Joey in the Spring of 1992, when they were just 8 weeks old (they were litter mates), and they were solid, but small. Well, that changed quickly. By year end they were huge. Not just big, but giant. These bruisers grew into the biggest cats I’d ever seen … I don’t mean fat, I’ve seen plenty of fat cats, but the two of them weighed in over 20lbs each, without an ounce of extra fat on them, and each was polydactyl on both front paws.
They were just behemoths with these giant mitts, galloping through the house at breakneck speed, crashing into (formerly) stationary objects with complete abandon. They were so big they couldn’t corner well at high speeds, so used walls and furniture (and sometimes people) as bumpers. My downstairs neighbors everywhere we lived used to comment on it. Just jumping off the bed caused a thud that reverberated. I’m lucky they had such great personalities, far more like dogs than cats, because friends and neighbors loved them.
They’d run to answer the door, and vocalize until they’d received the requisite pampering before scampering off to play. When I’d have game nights there was no hiding under the bed for these boys … they were right there in the thick of things, demanding attention and making off with the game pieces of the unwary. They were tremendous fun, and whenever I brought a new cat home, as I sometimes did, there was no howling crazy free-for-all establishing territories … they just absorbed the newbie and that was it.
But Benny passed almost 6 years ago of thyroid cancer, and it broke my heart. He melted down to 11lbs in less than three months, and just could not keep the weight on, and I’m afraid the same is now happening to Joe. While he still looks fairly large, all it takes is a petting session to see the truth: I feel every ridge of his spine, and his shoulder and hip bones. His legs are sticks covered in fur, and when I rub his forehead and between his eyes (his favorite pastime) my fingers read his skull like it’s delivering a message in Braille. And when I pick him up, I no longer have to set myself to balance his weight … he feels light as a feather.
At first I was very upset. I thought, “I can’t do this again.” I was ready to stamp my feet in a temper tantrum reminiscent of my niece at the mall (that was a nightmare!). But I’ve since calmed down. Joey’s lived a great life, and been a terrific blessing to me, and I owe him the absolute best twilight I can give him. So I’ve instituted some changes that Joey greatly enjoys: 1) he now gets first dibs on canned food twice daily (he’s got precious few teeth left, and generally falls asleep in the midst of happily gumming dry food); 2) he has three bowls of water in various locations that get changed out twice daily (he’s always been a lazy drinker and still lies down next to the bowl to lap from a reclining position); and 3) he determines who has access to me.
This last change Joey’s enjoying a great deal: if the labs (Boogie and Kaia) are too rambunctious, he starts up a rumbling snarl and looks at me; that’s my cue, and out go the girls. Same with Maddie, our other resident eldercat (she’s thirteen). I’m on constant watch to ensure Joey gets enough to eat and drink, and can determine that based on … yeah, you guessed it … the size and consistency of his poo. On a big poo day, I am happy as a clam: my baby’s eating.
So, this is me, judging the success or failure of a day based on the size and consistency of cat poo. All I have to say is hooray for big, solid, cat poo!!
Friday, January 9, 2009
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about Free Will; that it is at once a great gift and yet a terrible burden (I don’t mean the freedoms that we enjoy here in the United States and the rest of the Western world, but rather the Free Will, capital “F” capital “W”, that God has seen fit to bestow upon us, His children of the linear).
Since I’m not an overtly religious person (in that I don’t wear my beliefs on my sleeve), nor do I participate much in my own organized religion (being a serenely lapsed Roman Catholic), and there is barely a handful of people with whom I discuss these things, I tend to have more of an inner dialog with the Big Guy’s various caretakers of my soul.
So my inner dialog around Free Will has gotten around to this: Free Will, after Faith, Hope, and Love, must be His fourth greatest gift, and it’s the one that packs a punch. How much faith must He have in us, to give us such a sharp pair of scissors as we run amok? What is He thinking?!? We as a breed are spectacularly unwilling to take responsibility for our own actions … witness the Twinkie Defense.
I get crazed when I read or hear about some other yahoo who has managed to screw a significant number of people in his (or her) pursuit of the (typically) almighty dollar. Lately it’s been bailed out banks that refuse to use the funds responsibly, but feel free to give ridiculous severance packages that amount to $8 million for each week (week!) employed. Really? Or how about revamping the credit card industry, but we'll just wait until June before we start. That way we can enjoy six extra months of people losing their homes and livelihoods (oh joy, oh rapture). It's enough to get my conspiracy theory tweak on.
You know, the one where there's about twelve really old, really wealthy, incredibly powerful white dudes ruling the world. Surely you've heard of it? We could, at the very least, get rid of all the lobbyists in Washington. They are ruining the world. There, I said it ... the economic plight of the world is directly due to the damage lobbyists have been allowd to do to the mores and values of our politicians. Okay, climbing down off the crazy now.
There have been great philosophical and moral debates structured solely around the meaning and causality of Free Will; “isms” have been created (such as “determinism” and “indeterminism”), and schisms have formed between groups of (otherwise fairly) reasonable people.
But to me responsible use of one’s Free Will boils down to two things: 1) do no harm to others, and 2) treat others as you would have them treat you. Now really, how hard can that be?
Thursday, January 8, 2009
When I get home for vacation I'd better see one of these babies ... almost six years of searching for the elusive Prudence Island Harbor Seal every time I go back home has yielded me nothing, I tell you ... nothing! This after fourteen years of never seeing one when I was a Bay local. Sheesh.
C'mon vacation ... c'mon vacation ... c'mon vacation. Yes! Just you wait 'til the countdown is over.
Oh, and what is the deal with media personalities telling us how old some dead celebrity would have been today if only, you know, he, she, or it weren't ... wait for it ... dead. I don't care who he, she, or it was ... there is little chance he, she, or it would be 118 today if he, she, or it weren't dead ... because ... nobody is living to be 118, you idiots! Sheesh!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
My “Go East To-Do List” got longer and longer, my cold got worse and worse, and year-end work requirements got more and more hectic until finally I shelved everything but sleeping and working (yes, this means I have whole nuther list of housekeeping to get caught up on … doh!). This would have been my first move as a homeowner and let me tell you, that ain’t easy.
Granted the buyers market is pretty good these days, but the sellers market? Not so much. So what to do and how much money would I need to put into the house in order to sell it? Too much to think about … it’s much harder than leaving an apartment! Ergo, not only am I not bummed that I didn’t get the job … truth be told, I’m a little relieved! And the guy who got the job? Really good guy who totally deserves it. Plus I get to use him as a SME for MRP … win-win!!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Dadnappit, we were thisclose!!! Whew! Okay, got that out of my system ('til next year ...) ...
I (still) have the Cold That Ate Pittsburgh. If Pittsburgh could have a cold. That lasted over ten days. And counting. And devoured two perfectly good holidays. Plus a vacation day. Dang cold (or, the way I currently sound while saying it, “dag code”). But I’ve discovered the joy of Robitussin Night Time Cough, Cold, & Flu, and only wish I could take it 24/7. Sleep, glorious sleep …
Got my tickets today for vacation … WOO HOO!!! See this picture of a bell bouy in Narragansett Bay? Hah hah, that's right, baby! So I fixed my widget to count it down, thus allowing the rest of you to share in my naner-naner-boo-boo ... um, I mean happiness ... not my smug I'm-on-vacation-and-you're-not attitude by any means. Best of all? I’ll be back home for the Superbowl!! To paraphrase Birbigs, “This is why it’s perfect! This is why it’s awesome! This is why, this is why, this is why it’s p'awsome!!!”
Oh yeah, and I've decided on a New Years Resolution: my (new) zero tolerance for zero tolerance policies. I'm done with them; from NFL “rulings” to picked-on kids kicked out of school for defending themselves when the PTB fail in their responsibilities, from third strike pot-heads on 30-year junkets to larcenous politicians and businessmen on 30-month Federally (read: you and me) subsidized field trips, from hidebound “moral” majorities hiding behind flawed personal interpretations to the media feasting on and helping to create the misfortunes of "celebrities" as a given right: I. Am. Done. But I'll elaborate later in the month.