Thursday, May 31, 2012

More Randomosity

The headline read that a paparazzi got beat up by Justin Bieber. Dude, man up! The kid’s like 9 years old, he has the muscle tone of a flounder. You can’t complain about getting beat up by a fish!

Stories seen on back to back days: Naked man killed while eating the face of another man and Man disembowels himself with a knife, then cuts off pieces of his intestines and throws them at police. What . . . the . . . hell . . . is . . . going . . . on . . . in . . . this . . . world?

My Walmart rant begins now:

What the hell is wrong with that store why was everyone in York County there on a Wednesday afternoon a Wednesday afternoon for Pete’s sake and why why why are there never enough check out lines open when you have eight to ten people at every line maybe you should open more lines you numnuts and why for the love of retail shopping would you let a whole line of customers standing there while one person goes back into the store to replace something that was defective and then when she comes back with another one and that one appears to be defective you let her go back into the store a second time while letting the rest of us in line waiting until our bones turn to dust so when I change lines and go to a 10 items or less and the first woman in line clearly has more than 10 items why won’t anyone enforce this why have the sign up if you’ll let someone bring 20 items and not make them go to another line I think the guy behind me is right they need a force of Walmart cops to give out tickets for stupidity like this and to the woman with the cart full of crap why didn’t you have your wallet out and waiting why did you have to dump your entire purse out on the counter top to find your method of paying for your mountain of low priced made in China appliances and bake ware only AFTER everything had been rung up why why why why why why why why why why

End of rant

Another Bieber related item in the news: The hack, I mean singer, is in Norway and all the little teenage blond girls went ape shit for the Biebs. Fun Fact: Bieber in Norwegian means “David Cassidy”.

Kathy Lee Gifford, on whatever show she’s still allowed to host, asked guest Martin Short how his wife was doing. That would be the wife that died 2 years ago. Oh Kathy Lee, when will you learn? You’re terrible at everything you do and that delivers a little schadenfreude to us all.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

3 Random Things

I don’t like the term “sweat equity”. I find it to be obnoxious. It’s the elitist version of “hard work”.

This project has taken months to pull together. I’ve got a lot of sweat equity invested so it needs to pay off.

Translation: I’ve spent weeks sitting on my ass in meetings, making phone calls and schmoozing with everyone I thought could do me a favor. I’d better get stock options or they’ll repossess my Lexus.

Meanwhile there’s the guy who helped construct the building all this business was conducted in.

Man this is hard work. I’m sweating my balls off.

Translation: Holy shit I’m tired. And it’s so hot my balls have literally fallen off and will need surgically reattached.

We all have different skill sets and do varied jobs. I sit in front of a computer all day. Sometimes I make phone calls or sit in a meeting. But I never say I’ve invested “sweat equity” because the only reason I’m sweating is the AC isn’t turned high enough.


I got an email this week which had the subject: Did your surgery require a vaginal mesh patch?

I was stunned. I didn’t even know I had had surgery, much less that I apparently needed a vaginal mesh patch. I went to my doctor and he promptly threw me out of his office. Turns out I didn’t have surgery after all and I don’t even have a vagina, which is a prerequisite for needing a mesh patch.

Actually I’m starting a band called Vaginal Mesh Patch. Our sound will be a mixture of Carol King, Judas Priest and a church choir. I’m calling the new style Gothic a cappella Pop.


Another email I received this week is from a web site called eBusiness. I have repeatedly unsubscribed from this site and in fact don’t recall ever subscribing but the emails keep coming. In this one the subject read: A better Sarch Engine for Cosmic Overdrive.

I cannot tell you . . . how long I have looked for . . . a better . . . sarch engine. Sorry, I’m getting emotional, it’s just that it’s been years, YEARS, that I’ve turned over every rock to find a better sarch engine. When I typed it into Google it asked me “did you mean search engine?” NO! I need a SARCH engine!

Finally, in my darkest hour, eBusiness, has provided me with an engine that will run my Sarch. Now if I could just find where I put it.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Making it Up as I Go Along

I swear. Sometimes I swear a lot. It’s mainly when I do something stupid and get frustrated with myself or when a 5 minute project goes wrong and turns into a 2 hour fiasco. A third instance would be like right now when I’m typing these blog posts and keep making mistakes. I’ve already said some very bad words and I’m only a few sentences into this one. There are moments when I’m honest enough with myself to admit I’ve got to dial it back. I sometimes turn into an 1850s prospector spitting out “gosh durnit” and dag nabbit”. Other times I make up my own words or terms. Some of these I may have heard someone else say and subconsciously appropriated it in my own version.

crap on a stick--I usually say this in place of damn or shit. For some reason I use the word crap a lot. It’s still a rude word, but better than shit. One day I started saying “crap on a stick” which may be my lighter version of “Christ on a cracker” which I heard in a movie once and didn’t understand at all

craphound--I call inanimate objects this a lot. When my laptop doesn’t do what I believe I instructed it to it gets called a “craphound”. Any job I try to do with tools will get this treatment. Of course it’s not long before those moments turn into %$#*&. Tools and I don’t get along.

goofus doofus--I call myself this when I do something stupid, like mistype the same word over and over again. I’ve always liked the word “doofus” for some reason and just added a little pizzazz.

goof schnitzel--This one is new. Another term I hurl at myself when I’m annoyed at a mistake I’ve made. Goof is an oldie but a goodie and I think “schnitzel” is a funny word. One day I made a mistake at work and muttered “you stupid goof schnitzel” under my breath. No idea how my brain put those two words together.

bucket of bilge water--I believe this was born on a day when I was very busy at work. I was hurrying because I had so much to get done so of course I was making a lot of mistakes. I had already called myself everything I could think of, clean and dirty, made one more misstep, needed a term to chastise myself with and . . . this came out. It has a nice alliteration, but other than that I can’t explain it.

So what words have you made up to keep from swearing? Come on damn it, what the hell, you can frigging tell me.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Hello Cleveland!

Hello Cleveland! Are you ready to rock?

Please welcome to the stage our opening act for this evening’s show, The Vice Presidents

How are you America? We are the Vice Presidents so let me introduce the band: on drums we have Chris Christie, governor of New Jersey, on bass Paul Ryan, representative from Wisconsin, on guitar Bob McDannell, governor of Virginia and I’m your lead singer Marco Rubio, senator from Florida. Let’s rock!

(sung to the tune of Give It Away by Red Hot Chili Peppers)

What you’ve got you've got to give it to me right now
What you've got you've got to give it to one anyhow
What you’ve got you've got to give it to one of us
You do a little dance and then you make a deal with Jesus

What we've got you've got to use to your advantage
What we've got you've got to get it on the front page
What we've got you've got to know that its first rate
Reeling with the feeling take us on a first date

Realize we don't want to be the king yet
Confide with us and you'll have the ring set
Our blood is the key to your upset
How come everybody wanna keep you from the big jet

Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me now
Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me now

Thank you, Good night republican voters everywhere!

And now, please welcome to the amphitheater stage your headline act for the evening, straight from the great state of Massachusetts, its Mitt and the Romneys!

Hello people of Earth, I am Mitt Romney. I am here to rule you! Let us rock!

(sung to the tune of Mr. Roboto by Styx)

You're wondering who I am
(personality, personality, I’ve got no personality)
Machine or mannequin
(policies, policies, I’ve got no policies)
With ideas pulled from a can
(humor, humor, I’ve got no sense of humor)
I am the your nominee man

I've got a secret,
I've been hiding
from the media
My heart is stone,
my blood is green
now it’s on Wikipedia
so if you hear me
flip flopping,
don't be surprised
I'm just a man who
needs someone
to vote for my side
To vote for my side,
just vote for my side
let's turn the tide
and vote for my side.

Thank you, republican voters, for disliking me less than the other candidates. Good night!

Monday, May 7, 2012

And the Voters Yawned

Soooo . . . Mitt Romney. We always knew it would be you. Right from the start all signs pointed to the Rombot with money to burn. Newt tried to make his case but we saw through him. Hell you can’t see AROUND him. Ba-dum-bum! Thank you, I’ll be here all week.

But seriously, the challengers tried their best to stop the Rombot that we affectionately call Mittens. Rick Santorum got some votes while his mouth was still closed. Then he opened it, again and again and again. And weirdly . . . people still voted for him. But in the end more punched their ballots for the clan O’Romney, with his wife by his side in her $1000 shirts, surrounded by their 6, 7, 8, 16 kids, whatever the true number is. They crowded around to try and make him look human.

In the end, the republican primary was about one thing: the people the republican voters wanted to run didn’t and the people they didn’t want to run did. Voter turnout in some states was as low as 5% because . . . no one cared. They looked at their choices and decided they’d rather stay home and watch an NCIS re-run while eating a bag of corn chips.

Now it’s Mitt time. Can you feel the excitement? Do you have general election fever? Do you have November 6 circled on the calendar? Have you been watching CSPAN non-stop? Are you hanging on every word out of David Gregory’s mouth on Meet the Press each week?

Election Fever! Catch it!