Women.

Well this New Year started out great, Sheesh! Tonight after my girlfriend cooked such a nice dinner, I said to her, "Honey, that was so good. Hey, if I haven't told you that I love you enough, don't worry, I'll tell you a bit later, OK?"

Women.

No appreciation whatsoever.

The Pre-Freeze

I am currently sitting in a tub of very cold water and ice. You see, I've got this theory that if I prefreeze my ass and balls, then this afternoon when my GF and I participate in a sleigh ride with the temperature being a chilly 2 degrees, it won't hurt so bad then they fall off.

Love, Water, and Honey

Love is
Getting her a glass of water,
Watching the water flow.
"Yes, Honey. Sure,"
Knowing the party's still going, and you
Forget that your company left a some time ago.

Slush, School Zones, Plastic Forks, and Socks

Icy winter time again here, cold, chilly to the bone. And I'm more of a jack-ass than ever, just ask my girlfriend. I don't actually drive 80 MPH or with any real intention of climbing through the windshield to attack and eat the heart out of the driver in front of me, I just sound like it. That's part of my therapy! This is how I cope with these torments, these unnecessary and inconsiderate delays. Does it ever really matter that we get into work at 7:09 instead of 7:07 every morning? I know it doesn't. My GF thinks that I don't know it, though, and that I'm always seriously concerned with losing a minute here or there. Bah! This morning, in formally sort-of-snowy but now mostly-slushy conditions, there was a driver in front of me who thought it safest to make her* way through the middle of two lanes. This of course infuriated me so I of course let loose verbally which led to my GF getting all upset, saying I'm a dangerous driver and I should be more understanding and patient and .... oops, wait a second, look up ahead: Those school zone flashers will activate in less than a minute at 7:00 A.M. and a driver ahead of me is going 18 instead of the current limit of 45. Oh shit, like, "Don't drive too fast, you poor, timid, feeble, soul, otherwise you'll miss the the slow zone!" Idiot.

What is it lately with all these web sites and books and things showing all the places to see before you die? It's like stuff you need to do before leaving on a jet plane. I don't want to be reminded that I'm going to die and that I better do or see such and such. Give me a break. Just show me cool places around the world and I'll make up my own damn mind on what I want to see or where I want to go.

I work in a place where the cheap-ass cafeteria provides only cheap-ass plastic eating ware. I can't keep jack shit on my tiny plastic fork, it's always falling off. What can you comfortably eat with one of those? I can't cut jack shit with my stupid, cheap-ass dull plastic knife. What is the point? Never order a steak in a cafeteria that doesn't offer real knifes. They ought to cut up the meat in small, toddler-sized chunks so I don't have to screw with trying to cut my meat with such a dull utensil. It's like using a comb to cut through leather. They ought to have a food processor right next to the cash register.

I can't stand it when my socks fall down. You will even see me walk funny, such that my leg and calf muscles stay flexed enough to hold them up. Speaking of socks, have you ever noticed that October Fest revelers, you know with their outfits, socks up to their knees and all, dance like they need a wedgie remover?

* actually it was a guy who drives like a girl!

Blah blah blah

"I will be out of the office starting 07/24/2008 and will not return until 07/28/2008.

"I will respond to your message when I return.

My reply:

"But I will be in the office during this time. Thank you for your quick response. I will be awaiting your actual response, the one that I expect will be meaningful and not a waste of my time. In the mean time, you needn't notify me further as to when you will return because I know that my original message is in your inbox and that you will read and respond when you return."

Response:

"I will be out of the office starting 07/24/2008 and will not return until 07/28/2008.

"I will respond to your message when I return.

I've decided to make two life changes: 1) Put socks on before pants. Why? Because my calves are so bulky with muscle after years of extensive physical training, stair-climbing, and many long marathons, it is impossible to pull the bottom parts of my pants up so that I can pull my socks up to that satisfying height of sock-on-calf comfort. Actually it's because I'm overweight and old and I can't bend over that well anymore.

The second life change is that I vow to have finished my first water bottle of the day before I get out of the car after my morning commute. It must be trippy watching me fumble over all my shit trying to walk through four separate doors with a brief case, keys, cell phone, sun glasses, and water bottle. I'm an idiot.

Have you noticed that many users (not you, of course) mistakenly think that the little Internet Explorer icon on their desktop is the internet, and they have no idea what a web browser is. Isn't this like thinking that the four-wheeled thing in the garage is Walmart?

I find that the more often I hear somebody say, "You bet," the more often I want to bet them how fast I can lay them on the ground if they say it again.

The OOO Message

"I will be out of the office starting 06/10/2008 and will not return until 06/23/2008"

Did you ever notice how dreadfully useless and stupid these types of messages are? What purpose does the OOO message serve other than: 1) let me know when you're going to be back in the office, presumably to read your non-time-sensitive email, when I don't give a shit in the first place; and 2) send a useless email message into my inbox that I now have to delete!

I don't care if you read my mail or not. I usually send mail for your benefit, not mine. If I need an answer to something I'll use google or come to your door!

The trend seems to be growing, too. I hope you don't mass produce these like people in my office do. It's email, people, hello?!? Email isn't time sensitive. If it is, then you shouldn't be using email; use the telephone or page some one.

I've decided that I'm going to fight back. For every one of these I receive (three of them today), I am going to "Reply with History" back and say: "OK"

One guy in my office appends this to his OOO message: "Please do not continue to e-mail me messages during this absense unless the information/response can await my return. Thanks!"

Idiot Tourists in Waikiki

A few weeks ago I was in Chicago visiting friends. Wow, what a city Chicago is. My GF and I were able to see the big aquarium, the Science and Industry Museum, and the Lincoln Park Zoo. Fantastic. My buddy and I were also able to drive from there to St. Louis to see Radiohead. Was the most amazing and mesmerizing concert I'd ever seen. Then, back in Chicago, four days later, we saw The Cure. Is that kick ass or what? My ears are still ringing...

The last couple of weeks I was in Hawaii, visiting the beautiful island of Oahu. I won't bore you with all the Mai Tais I drank or the Sex on the Beach or my subsequent arrest, but there were a few interesting things I've noticed about Hawaii...

The locals walk very slowly, but they're extremely nice about it. In fact, they're nice in just about everything they do. I love this. It makes me wish I lived there. The tourists there, however, quickly reverse this desire as they are are assholes. Especially on the sidewalks of Waikiki. A fire hose would have been ideal.

Hawaii is one place that posts speed limit signs that provide a 55 MPH maximum and a 45 MPH minimum. I've seen this in other states and I've always thought this was a good idea. Until I realized that, in a 55 zone, if I were to come up behind somebody who's doing only 45 MPH, that would piss me off royally. I'd like to see: 55 MPH Maxium - 54.5 MPH Minimum - Strictly Enforced.

Since I don't know Honolulu well, I noticed that when riding around on The Bus it is possible to get your bearings by simply making note of the various tall condos, hotels, and office buildings. They are all unique enough that they make a worthy array of land marks. It works quite well and you don't have to wonder long before knowing which stop to get off. Going back to my hotel was easy: my hotel is right next to a building that looks like a huge penis.

What is it with cigarette butts everywhere? Don't they realize that if they'd put waste-receptacles with butt-trays at strategic locations, the streets would be a lot cleaner? I noticed also that motorists tend to empty their car ashtrays right onto the street at intersections. This is terrible. What they ought to do is toss their butts out the window before they reach the intersections. This will help avoid such an unsightly mess.

In the office I was working at there I had a good time. The people are friendly and laid back and very personable. It was quite a cramped space, and I noticed that a small copy machine was located three feet from a large shredder. If you'd have blurred your eyes looking at the two, they would've looked identical: same height, each with a slot at the top. I placed a sign on the copy machine that said "Shredder," and one on the shredder that said, "Copy Machine (Face Up!)" This was fine and dandy until they attempted to photocopy a reimbursement check for me. SHIT!

On the airplane, every inconvenient rule is for your safety. What a bunch of crap. "For your safety, no line is to form by the lavatory in the front cabin." "For your safety, all carry-on items need to be stowed under the seat in front of you." "For your safety, during take-off and landing all trays and seat backs must be in their upright and locked positions." "For your safety, we will be passing through the cabin one more time to collect all service items regardless of content." "For your safety, we will make sure to violently knock your elbow that is sticking out in the aisle with our drink cart as we pass through the cabin." "For your safety, fuck you."

By the way, does toothpaste ever go bad?

Broken Pens, Practical Jokes, and Shower Caddies

Nine times out of ten, the pen you receive to sign the credit slip will not work or not work very well. So you make slash marks to try to get the pen to work better. These odds are increased if you're at a restaurant and want to leave a tip on the slip, i.e. you have to write more onto the to-smooth-t0-write-on-especially-with-a-lousy-pen credit slip paper. I hate that; it frustrates me. If if my meal was only one point below perfect, this causes me to remember it as about ten points below.

We took a bathroom shower stall caddy back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond the other day. It was a $45 thing, but it wouldn't fit because it hung right over the on/off/hot/cold knob. So we took it back. This was an ordeal. It took three people to help us (the original lady at customer service, a manager-type person because she'd initially punched up $45 due instead of refund, and finally a different manager-type person to enable the "credit" on my card). But I also had to re-swipe my credit card, tell the lady my name and phone number, and sign two slips of paper. Each with a pen that didn't work.

What does it mean when somebody says you're full of shit? Does it mean you simply have misinformation, that you are ignorant? Or does it mean that you're being deceptive?

I figured out what the term practical means in the phrase practical joke. All along, for my entire life of hearing that phrase, I thought it meant: a joke worth doing, a joke that you ought to do because it is practical. I'd wondered why a bucket of water sitting on a door ajar would be deemed practical! It only dawned on my last night while reading Edgar Allan Poe's Hop-Frog that it means "practiced" instead of "verbal." I never said I wasn't an idiot, folks.

My Girlfriend's Panties, Cream, and Martinis

Today being Sunday I did my once per monthly load of laundry just like the good boy that my girlfriend thinks I am. While I was folding my whites - and you should see how flat I fold my t-shirts and Kirkland Signature brand briefs - I of course rolled up my girlfriend's panties in the way that she likes (see this post) . I rolled up a tanish-colored pair, one of her newer ones I think, so tight that it resembled a cigar. "Honey, do you have a light?" No good, she didn't go for it.

I always ask the wait person when I order a martini, "Um, one olive only. Just one, please." I can't stand olives, especially the green yucky kind. I wish they'd invent a real martini that doesn't have to have olives. Yeeeech. Yah? Stop right there. I know what you're going to say. I do enjoy a martini with a (lemon) twist, too. Well, my most sweet babe of a GF just handed me a martini with... get this... a twist of orange peel. Wow do I love this woman. And this is one righteous mo-fo'ing martini.

I started using face cream. OK, wait, shut up for a minute. I'm serious. After shaving and drying off every a.m. my face is red and flaky and dry and it's pissed me off for years. I said fuck this and asked my GF if I can have a spurt of her stuff. Wow, it's French, bottom of the tube (she's almost out) and I smeared it on with reckless abandon and... it works. My face felt great, young, smooth, moist (just like her cute behind) and all day long. OK, enough of that...

Elevator Music, Underwear, and the TSA

Figure a month is long enough to go without popping in and saying Hi. Blogger's block, must be.

Whatever happened to elevator music? I think it's gone because I just never hear it anymore. I remember hearing Yesterday (The Beatles) in elevator-music style a really long time ago in some elevator. I must have been 8. I remember smelling cigarette smoke residue and there being a lot of metal around, like maybe it was an old post office. I remember thinking how cool it would be to have written a piece of music that would eventually be inducted into the Elevator Music genre. I wonder if they still use Elevator Music, and, if they do, how long it will be before we can hear Fuck You Like an Animal by Nine Inch Nails in Elevator Style.

Over lunch today I had the privilege of learning a new word: smegma. (WARNING: it is gross, please don't go there if you are easily grossed out. I don't want to gross anyone out.) Why did I have to learn this? Because an unliked person's name reminded my lunch partner of it. That's why. Gross.

I've had it with airport security, removing my shoes and belt, placing my laptop in one bin, everything else in another bin, and my coat on top of all that. Recollecting my belongings and re-donning my belt and shoes while be shuffled through the line is an ordeal that is about as graceful as doing the penguin walk toward the waste bin in a doctor's office to toss the lube-infused tissue with your underpants still around your ankles. I'm all for full-body-x-ray at airport security, and I don't care if the TSA folks see my private parts.

Anyway, hi.