Miasmatic Review

Good Bye 2009

I really hated 2009, it was not a good year for me. Nothing good seemed to happen and I really am looking for it being over. It's fitting that the year is rolling out in pain. I had a follow up treatment yesterday that involved a really long needle being jammed into my stomach. Yea, I hurt.

So here's to 2010. May this year bring about some Happiness and Joy for everyone.

Minions at home.

If you recall I have five employees that are telecommuters. They have the luxury of working from home. As part of my duties as their supervisor I must make periodic home inspections to make sure everything is on the up and up. What I’m checking for is to make sure that all the equipment that the company gave them to use is there and in working condition and that they are following the agreement they signed to be eligible to work from home. This includes:

-Verifying that the floor plan for their home office is correct.
-Confirm that work area is a separate space from common living area of home.
-Confirm that work area has a door with working lock.
-Confirm file cabinet has a working lock.
-Verify it is a distraction free environment (no television, pets, children or elderly they have to take care of.)
-Verify that homeowner’s/renter’s insurance policy is active.
-Verify working Smoke Detector.

We actually have a checklist we have to go down. If they fail the inspection, then they have to return to working out of the home.

Today I had to do my first round of home visits. IE The Inspection! Of course, to make sure that they don’t cheat, it’s a surprise inspection. Meaning, I just show up during the times they are supposed to be working and make sure everything is on the up and up. The whole thing is rather uncomfortable for everyone involved. I really don’t want to go in their house, and they really don’t want to just surprise them by stopping by, especially if it’s a bad house day.

Of course there is some fun to be had. I hit the first minion’s home. Everything was squared away and fine. She had all the information I needed and everything matched as it should. When I went to check the smoke detector, it wouldn’t go off. Of course she gave me the song and dance that the battery had been unplugged because of a cooking incident. Once the battery was plugged back in, it worked just fine. However, I couldn’t bypass this opportunity to tell her that I was going to have to fail her because it hadn’t been plugged in. At first she believed me, but because I was in a hurry to get out of the house, I let her know right away that I was kidding.

One of the houses I went to really threw me for a loop. Management has joked about going to the houses and seeing people working in their pajamas. I just never thought I would actually see it. Nope, when I rang the doorbell my minion answered the door in her pajamas. She had everything on the up and up, but it just made me a tad bit more uncomfortable. I was really glad that one of my Peers was with me, just for proprieties sake. And trust me, this is the only time you will ever hear me be honestly thankful for this peer, because she in general gets on my nerves.

One of my minions is a smoker. When I visited her, I saw that she had ashtrays next to her computer. Our company has a very strict no smoking on company property policy. I had her going that I was going to have to revoke her work from home privileges because she was smoking while on the company time. I explained that, even though she is at home, the equipment belongs to the company and that while she is on the clock, she is not allowed to smoke. Because she was in violation of that, I had to bring her home. I even went so far as to show her in the agreement papers she signed; it states she must follow all company policies. I had her going pretty good.

I let her off the hook as I was walking out the door. We all had a chuckle about it, of course she was relieved. She didn’t want to have to go back to working in the office.

So my first set of home visits went well, I’d still rather not do them, but if I have to, I hope they all go this well.

Playing on her fears.

Sometimes people meet just don’t get along. It could be because of political or religious beliefs. Maybe it’s because of an incident in their past, such as a perceived slight or insult. Sometimes it’s just because their personalities clash. I’m sure we’ve all seen this. Ron meets Jerry for the first time at a friend’s house. Afterwards while speaking with the mutual friend they make the comments, “I don’t know, I just don’t like that guy. He’s a total douchebag.” These are the most fun, because they can spiral out of control quickly. They almost look for things to not like each other about.

Now these two can be even more “fun” in the workplace. Yea, you may not have to like each other, but you have to work together. They will do good for a while, and then something will blow up and they will drag everyone they know into it.

Well, I have this situation at work, and me being me, I couldn’t help but to take advantage of it for nothing more than to make myself laugh. I have a Peer which henceforth shall be known as Talkative Peer (she never shuts up and turns a 15 minute meeting into a 2 hour meeting), who has a personality clash with another member of management that will be from now on referenced as Sports Girl, because she coaches and plays a lot of sports. Sports Girl and Talkative Peer have disliked each other for at least 3 years. They have always clashed and sometimes the arguments get so involved it was brought to staff meetings to resolve. We don’t dare let them be in the same room alone. Yes, they hate each other that much.

Sports Girl used to be a peer, but she took a voluntary re-assignment to an Inventory Management position (similar to one I used to have). She didn’t like the responsibility of having direct reports. In her position, we report to the same asst. manager. On Friday before I left for the weekend, they dropped the bomb on us that our current asst. manager is being moved to the other department in the office, and my entire department is going to report to one asst. manager, instead of two. Because of this Sports Girl is now going to have to report to someone at my level instead of an asst. manager.

I’m sure you see where this is going, but I’m going to finish the story anyway.

I walk up to Sports Girl this afternoon and say to her, “I hear you are going to be reporting to Talkative Peer” (Talkative peer has other management reporting to her, so this is a plausible situation.) Sports Girl eyes grew three times their size, her jaw fell into her lap, the blood drained from her face leaving her once copper tanned skin the moon pale look of a night shifting computer geek that only sees the sun when he has to wonder to the comic book store to buy the latest limited edition Laura Croft action figure to “play” with.

She looks at me with a horror that I had truly never seen in any humans eyes before in my life. Tears started forming, and her eyes became bloodshot. You could actually watch as the tiny veins filled causing the read lines to spread across the sclera (White part of the eye). Her breathing increased and small beads of sweat started to form on her forehead. In a very thin and wispy voice she says, “wh-what?”

Now I could have been nice and let her off at this point, but to be honest I’m not that nice. So I said:

“You’re going to be reporting to Talkative Peer.”

Her eyes almost rolled back in her head and she wobbled a little in her chair.

Her, “Really?”

At this point, before it turned into a medical emergency because she was starting to hyperventilate. I let her off the hook with a, “Nah, I’m just horsing around.”

Her look of horror contorts into a glare of anger. Her wide open eyes narrow, her almost corpse like complexion flushes back to an angry red. I swear you could almost see the veins in her eyes bulge! Her muscles clench as if she’s getting ready to try to attempt to remove an arm and beat me with it.

“THAT’S NOT FUNNY!!!!”

Me, “The hell it’s not!” Meanwhile I’m barely able to stay upright from the laughter. The rapid and complete change of moods from content in work, to deep seeded fear and finally to rage in under 30 seconds. The complete physical transformation that went with it was HILARIOUS!

I’m holding onto the edge of her desk because I’m laughing hard enough to get dizzy. I’m trying not to laugh so loudly I distract the entire office, so I’m trying to hold it in. Watching me laugh so hard, she started laughing. Called me a jerk and said that “I was a real bastard” She only got away with the last one because I actually like her.

She told me that since Friday when she heard about this whole issue, she had feared that was what was going to happen to her. So when I verbalized her “worst fears” the thought that they wouldn’t have told her first ever crossed her mind. We then had a brief conversation about who she doesn’t want to have as a boss. She said she would rather have me then most of my peers. I told her she was a damn liar. Of course that got a chuckle out of her.

This is good, because she’s a bit uptight. Okay you could put a lump of coal up her arse and get a diamond in 24 hours.

Neglect and responsibility

Wow, I’ve been really neglectful. Over the last couple of days, I actually started going down my blogroll… the one that is mislabeled “Blogs I regularly read”.

WOW. Just wow.

I knew that I had let my job kind of take over things in my life and that my blogging has really taken a dive for it. That includes reading and keeping up with my regulars. As I’ve gone through and started clicking on links, I see that some blogs haven’t been updated in years. Some have ceased to exist or the ownership has changed hands. Or it had been so long since I had been there that when I started reading posts I realized that a lot of big things have happened to these people and I just had no clue!

WOW.

Heck some of the blogs I used to comment on daily seem to have died to the point that the post maybe once or twice a week as opposed to once or twice a day.

Then again, the same thing goes for me. Then I realized what happened. I had “unauthorized” people from work find my blog. These are people that if they read my blog and went back and said something in the office, it would get me in trouble. Because of these people I really decided that I needed to scale back and not blog about some of the stuff I was… mainly work. Well those individuals that found me are no longer with the company or in my office and I just never got out of “private mode”

Yes, I still blogged some about work, but when was the last time I shared a really good Minion story. Hell when was the last time I even referred to my people as minions?

Well since I am fresh out of give a damn about work. I’m turning the filters off and actually going to try to make some rounds from now on. Maybe not as actively as I was before as I do have some resemblance of a life, but more than the… oh say NEVER… that I have been doing.

I’m gonna start with trimming the MIA from my blogroll and updating the new sites on there.

Graumagus is Back!

After a year and a half in federal prison for gun running charges, Grau finally showed up again. He's moved... kinda. He's now at WWW.Frizzensparks.ORG. Yes, that's ORG, not COM. As he put it, Now Less dot-Commie, More dot-Orgy! To translate that for everyone. That means he likes the Orgy (hopefully not the 11 way. You know what happens in prison).

Go over and welcome him back.

I have a secret, a big secret!

I have a secret, a huge one. I've been sworn not to tell anyone. The only hint I can give you is that it involves this sentence, "Sex! Naked women with huge tits and buckets of viagra!"

And trust me, this secret has nothing to do with me!

Girls doing things wrong.

Okay, this is mean... yet funny. It's a compliation of various clips of girls doing stuff and failing miserably. Some of it is trying to dance sexy, some of it is just other stunts. There is no nudity, but some of it does involve scantly clad women. Enjoy!

I'm slightly Nerdy

Ever wonder if you are a nerd or not? Looking for the definition on what makes you a nerd? Over at Mighty God King, he has a post up about what is and is not Nerdy.

I figured most to all of my readers are at least slightly nerdy. However, I know of two that classify as Dangerously Nerdy. But I wont say who.. yet.

Nanerpus

There were a lot of adds from the Super Bowl, but honestly, this is the only one that has ear wormed me into singing it for a week.

I should do this at work.

Ktreva found this video of a prank where a guy hooks up a car battery to the kitchen sink. Watch as his unsuspecting victim not only touches the sink once, but twice.

I'm not sure what's funnier, his reaction or the fact he went back for more. lol

We know, it's cold.

Okay, so all day long all I've heard is how cold it is. Yes, we made a record low -24 degrees. Sure the hair IN my nose froze between my front door and the truck. Okay, I had icicles hanging off my facial hair. I get it, it's cold.

But that doesn't mean I want to listen to you whine and complain while you pump gas. I don't want to listen to your sad story about your car not starting while I'm waiting my turn to check out. Heck, I don't care that you just moved here from Arizona and you are convinced the Cubs just won the World Series.

However, I did enjoy watching you struggle with your doors opening because you washed your car yesterday and the water froze everything shut.

Welcome to Northern Illinois!

Winter Driving.

Right now outside it's snowing pretty good. We've gotten about 8 inches of snow since yesterday evening. Now anyone that lives in Northern Illinois and Wisconsin has to know how to drive in the snow. Then again, sometimes the conditions get so bad that you just shouldn't be on the road.

Yea, it's like watching a ballet of stupid.

Respectful Hunter

Okay, this is for the hunters out there. This hunter was respectful of his prey enough to let him finish before taking him out.

I wonder if the rush of adrenaline after the act makes the meat taste better?

WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!

This is wrong, absolutely wrong! Do not... NOT click the attached link. Unless you really want to loose more innocence, or any innocence you have left, do not click this link!

Ewww, Ewww, Ewww!

AR-15s

Blogspawn Petey of Petey's powderhorn is contemplating getting a an AR-15. Except he wants it in the not so wimpish .223 round, but in the more respectable 7.62X39mm round. The same that is shot by the AK-47. I say he should just get an AK, they are easy to use, easy to clean, more durable and don't jam up anywhere near as much as the AR.

Plus the AR is the most common firearm bought by wannabes. Every time I go to the range you see at least a dozen ARs. My theory is that since the AR is the civilian model of the M-16 and M-4 Carbine. Most people want to believe they are armed like the military. Me, I just want a weapon that has a function outside of varmint hunting. (If you look at the .223 boxes at gun shops they are classified as a varmint round.) It's because of this popularity that they make 10,000 different accessories for the AR.

Yea, that about sums it up.

Yes, I know that is a M-4 in the picture, but it's not my design

He only has 9 days left

...as of this post. Go help this poor schmuck out. I mean, how much lower can you get?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Dork!

Idiots with pepper spray

I've been hit with pepper spray before, because I was going through a training course on self defense. When it came to the pepper spray portion the instructor said that each person had to be hit with it in order to understand how it works. To be honest, this video is pretty accurate in peoples reactions. When I worked in security and Law Enforcement I used it on people multiple times, including once in a jail fight.

The fact that they kids did it just to see what happens shows you that they are idiots.

However, I did find it amusing that the guys friends laughed maniacally when he was suffering.

Happy Hippie Hunting

I'm going to preface this post with a note for my wife: My darling Ktreva, please do not read this post. I know how you are senstive to my dislike of the soap fearing clans of roaming idiots, but this story was just too good not to share.

In order to get prepared for the BlogCrawl shoot tomorrow, I headed to a local gun store to pick up some 30 round mags and ammo. As I pulled into the parking lot, which is shared with some other local businesses, there were four hippies, tie dies and all. standing on the sidwalk. As I pulled in I was greated with "Hey man, No guns, more fun!" and "Guns are the root of evil."

Of course I just smiled and waved at them. I walked in, picked up my items and as I was leaving there were still there chanting something about the evils of guns. When I went to leave I had to wait for traffic. My windows were rolled down and one of the female protesters asked me "What do you need a gun for?" I couldn't help myself, I responded with:

"It's Happy, Hippie Hunting Time! I'm going to go bait a field with tie dies and pot and see if I can bag my limit."

The ghastly look on her face was classic.

So in honor of the day and the BlogCrawl I present:

The 2008 BlogCrawl Happy Hippie Hunt!

This is just mean

Someone out there really wants to ruin peoples fun. They put together a quick paced video clip of some of the most famous spoilers in book and film.

I just can't believe he left off that Soylent Green is people!

It's not so bad.

Okay, I've heard people complaining about Hurricanes for so long that I just took it for granted that they are bad horrible things. Well today Hurricane Gustav* hit Tulsa. The temps dropped to 66 degrees, it's windy and sure it's been raining all day long, but seriously folks. This isn't bad at all.

I'm not sure what the fuss is all about

* what's left of it

That's where I'd go.

I didn't realize that T1G moved to Texas and opened a daycare center. 5-Year-Old Leaves Day Care, Goes to Hooters. T1G just wanted some hot wings and couldn't leave the other kids unattended... and he seemed like a really smart 5 year old.

Not that I'm making excuses.

I wonder if she learned her lesson?

The basis of this is that the guy was going to teach his wife firearm safety. He told her not to touch the weapon until he got back. She obviously didn't listen to him. I know this prank was mean, cruel and possibly dangerous, but it's absolutely hilarious.

Look a likes

Here's an interesting blog. Over at Totally Looks Like they match celebrity photo's with other images they look like, be it other people or animals.

Even though I never really thought of it, but John Kerry does kind of look like Herman Munster.

What day is it?

I heard on the radio it’s Earth Day today. Until that moment I really had no clue. Now I’m sure I’m supposed to do something “green” to save the planet, but we all know that’s not going to happen. So what have been my activities today?

Umm, put an additional 50 miles on my truck running around town. You know the one with the 5 inch tailpipe and gets 10 miles to the gallon. I have Boopie out cutting up a tree in the backyard. Some plastic bags accidentally blew out of the open windows on my truck during my travels. I bought a bunch of non-recycled plastic stuff. I threw away some aluminum cans. Later tonight I’m going to dump some used motor oil in my backyard in hopes of killing off some plants that just don’t seem to want to die.

Yea, I think that is the majority of it.

The Environment. Ignore it, and it will go away.

I wonder if they are in counseling.

This is just hilarious, because it's someone else.

Watch this first:

I don't know why she did that, or why SHE thought it was funny, but she did. Don't get me wrong, I know why I think it's funny. Now watch his response:

I know why he did this, I'm not sure it was the appropriate response, but it was damn funny.

Seriously, I wonder if these two are still together and if so, what are they going to do to each other next?

Bombs Away!

Ever want to get revenge on someone or someplace for a slight, but really don't want to hurt anyone? Well over atRockford City Hall"> Come Bomb they have a solution for you. You can place a "bomb" on Google maps.

I decided that since I'm tired of the City of Rockford's government I'd tag the Rockford City Hall.

Go place a bomb yourself.

Home at last.

And I'm ready to go back to work.

Clone had the last of his Birthday party's this weekend. We had his kid's party at McDonalds. Which after dealing with 10 3-6 year olds for 2 hours I was ready to call it the end. The important point was that he had fun.

After his party I took Clone to his first Football Game. Well okay, he's seen his brother play flag football and middle school football, but this was semi-professional football. The Rock River Raptors. I even had his name and birthday announced over the intercom and on the jumbotron. He loved the whole thing. He was pretty good up until the start of the fourth quarter. Then he started getting tired and wanted to go home. He had a lot of fun, and keeps asking me to take him again. And I will sometime... just probably not until next year.

After the game Bruce and I hooked up with Graumagus at Carlisle's for a couple of rounds of the best damned Scottish Ale on tap. This is where Graumagus tricked me into helping him move the next day. Apparently not only did he want me to give him the extra washer and dryer that I had, but he wanted me to haul it and help move it for him too. What an ingrate!

That was all on Saturday. Sunday I wake up at noon... after not getting home until 3:30AM. Grau was supposed to call and say he was coming over. I had just gotten downstairs when there's a knock on the door. Guess who? I answer the door with, "I thought you were going to call first?" He responded with, "Yea, I remembered that as soon as I pulled up." Fortunately I was awake.

The dryer was in my basement, the washer was in the garage. They had been sitting in the same spot unused for almost 10 years. It appears that my garage roof must have sprung a leak in the winter as there was a bunch of nasty water in the washer. Which made it that much more heavy. By the way, it seems that back in the 60's they made washers using cast iron. That damn thing was heavy! The extra water didn't help. Plus we had to lift it into the back of my truck. Fortunately it's only about a 3.5 foot vertical lift.

After moving the washer and dryer into his new apartment's basement, we plugged it in to check it out. I guess a 40 year old electrical appliance sitting under the leaking roof of a garage doesn't last too well... it didn't seem to work. Owell, as I told him. It's his problem now! I offered to give him his money back... but since it was free he didn't think it would be worth the hassle.

As punishment for making him take a broken washer, which I did warn him it may not work, I had to help him move a refrigerator too. At this point I should mention that Wes did come over to help with all of this. I don't want to leave him out. We go to his sister's storage unit where the frige is sitting and try to get it out. Grau had to play reverse tetris in order to be able to even thing about sliding it out of the unit.

When he opened the door we discovered that a year and a half ago when it was put in the storage unit, his sister hadn't bothered to clean nor properly empty the thing. Yea... that wasn't pleasant.

After getting that to his new place and making 398,7485 gay jokes about his curtains and just him in general we made a nice impression on his new neighbors. Lets just say me rubbing my nipples in the parking lot and saying in a lisp, "If you think that frige is dirty now, just wait until we get together later." Yeah... I think his new neighbors believe a big ol' "bear" is moving in. Even after that and the broken washer Grau was kind enough to take Wes and I to Hooters for some Hot Wings and beer.

That sounds like it was all pretty easy going and fun, so why do I want to go back to work? Well, Ktreva is in Chicago on business leaving me home alone with the boys. I'm about ready to tranquilize both of them and hide them in a closet.

Now if you'll excuse me in the time it took me to write this, I think they managed to disassemble Clone's bed.

It's Easter.

Clone has already been up, terrorized the basket, eaten more Chocolate than I probably should have let him this early in the morning and is now playing Super Mario Galaxy on the Wii why he works off his sugar rush.

Since it is Easter, I thought it would be a good time to re-introduce a couple of my favorite flash animations from years past.

First we have How To Make A Chocolate Easter Bunny.

Then after you've finished playing with that, try How To Make A Bunny Lay Easter Eggs.

Yea, I know. I have issues.

1-800-Nerd-Girl

Yea, I'm sure there are many guys this clip speaks volumes to.

Yea, I know guys both now and from my childhood that if this was real, would have these girls on speed dial.

Hurray for Snow!

The national weather service has issued a winter storm warning for my area. They are claiming we are going to get 6-10 inches of snow! I know a lot of people are tired of the snow, but to be honest, I like it. It makes life more fun. If we actually get that amount I'd be surprised, but if we do... YAY!

Nothing like a good Spring snow.

This made me laugh.

When I saw this article: Weather Channel Founder Wants to Sue Al Gore, I laughed. I laughed for multiple reasons.

ohn Coleman wants to sue Al Gore for fraud. Coleman, who founded the Weather Channel in 1982, thinks taking legal action against Al Gore would be a great "vehicle to finally put some light on the fraud of global warming." Coleman rejects the notion that people must take drastic actions to reduce their energy use.

First I don't buy the global warming alarmist stuff, I don't see enough scientific data to prove anything. I'm sorry, the earth has been around more than the 100 years worth of reliable data they are basing this on. There is other evidence that the earth goes through cycles like this over large spans of time. So we are on a warm up, well in so many years we'll have a cool down. If Coleman won, I would love to see Al Gore's reaction. Which would probably be the same he has for everything else, damn robot.

Second, As much as I would love to see this happen, I think the guy would be throwing his money away. There is no way that any judge would let this go to court. Most of them wouldn't want to stand in the middle of this kind of political mess. Even if it did go to court, I highly doubt a judge would rule in favor of Coleman.

Anyways, It made me chuckle.

I'm a toad?

Then Tony Kornheiser can lick my... wait this is a PG-13 blog.

Tony, AKA Kornholer, originally brought about my ire for his horrible announcing during Monday Night Football games on ESPN. He was so bad he was even nominated for worst announcer of the year. Any of you that have watched football with me know that I really hate this man's inability to stay on topic, especially the game at hand.

Today I stroll over to Techography where Bloodspite has a post up about Tony calling bloggers toads.

It's a real, it's a real mistake, and it happens. And I don't want to single anybody out in this area, but, you know, some people sit at home and they watch TV and they watch radio and they "blog" about certain "things," and they think they know what they're talking about, and they think they have sources. They have no sources. They make stuff up. They're toads. They're little toads. Actually, they're pimples on the behind of the greater body politic in this country and in this city (everyone in the studio cackles for no reason). And because, because they have access to airwaves and three or four people read them, they think, 'Oh, I'm very important.'

Read the whole article and see how he really feels about us. Then remember the next time you see him to let him lick your... sorry, I forgot.

HAHA, Fair weather fan gone bust!

Maybe he's a retailer, maybe he's just a lame bandwagon jumper, either way there is a lesson to be learned. Nothing is a "Sure thing".

Free Patriots Gear.

She LIVES!

With Jeebus returning to Northern Illinois, miracles are happening. My long lost, and presumed retro aborted blog spawn, Virtue of The Rantings of an Indentured Servant has arose from the grave.

I've seen her around as she is a friend, re-enacting buddy and babysitter, but I thought her blogging days were done. Head on over and welcome her back to the land of the living. Maybe this time around I can keep her on life support.

Drunken days are here again!

The great an honorable T1G of Drunken Wisdom is finally coming to roost back here in the the good ol' Northern Illinois area for a period of time. He's put up an agenda of some of his places he's going to be. I'd like to see some, if not all of you join us at least one of the times. It's the time of year for family and friends... well at least friends.

A picture that explains it all.

This billboard pretty much sums up how I feel about animals and hunting. Especially on Thanksgiving day.

Contagion2, Neighbors 0

We all know how much I love my neighbors. For those of you that don’t remember or just didn’t know, I like to keep my neighbors in a healthy level of fear of me. Not that I think I’m big and tough or that I’d actually do something. I just want them to think I’m a wack job so they leave me the fark alone.

Unfortunately many of my neighbors are new, the old ones have moved out. (I don’t know why.) So that means I have to restart operation “Leave the Burly man alone”. Last month after I bought my Russian Mosin Nagant M44 I couldn’t just bring it into the house in the box. Nope, I took it out of the box, affixed the bayonet, slung it over my shoulder and carried it in. On the walk from the truck to the house the new neighbor to the left came walking around the corner of her house and I heard an audible gasp and an exclamation of “Oh my!” The white trash across the street were all sitting in the front yard smoking stopped talking and very quietly watched me walk into the house. Shortly there after they all abandoned the front of the house and went inside.

Today I needed to clean my .75 caliber Brown Bess musket. After shooting last weekend, I really wanted to make sure it was nice and clean. I grab all of my stuff and go into the front yard. The trash across the street watch me uncase this monstrosity and start cleaning it. After a couple of minutes they have all disbursed. Some went inside and other just left. The neighbors around me kept peaking out their windows to see what I was doing. A couple of them were walking down the street actually crossed to the other side instead of walking down the sidewalk in front of my house. I was there for 30 minutes just waiting for the cops to show up.

Now, tonight, it’s nice and quiet outside. Nobody hanging around making noise or just being obnoxious. Ahhh.. the freedom of having neighbors afraid of you.

Why don't he write?

Okay, I’ve had enough people ask me about the poor demise of Graumagus and Frizzen Sparks. People it’s really not my place to give you all of the details, but I will give you some. But in fine re-enactor tradition I’m going to do it in song format

(Sung to the tune of General Taylor)

Graumagus has gone away.
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Graumagus has gone away.
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks dot com.

To me way hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Way, hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot com.

Forgot to renew the domain.
Nothing to read John, don’t go to read.
The address didn’t remain.
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot com.

To me way hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Way, hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot com.

Someone claimed up the domain.
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Grau with anger has gone insane.
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot com.

To me way hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Way, hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot com.

Grau’s not sure what to do.
Nothing to read John, don’t go to read.
Grau’s mood has turned blue.
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot Com.

To me way hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Way, hey, hey Grau
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks Dot com.

Frizzen Sparks is dead and gone.
Nothing to read John, Don’t go to read.
Frizzen Sparks is dead and gone.
Nothing to read at Frizzen Sparks dot com.

Hey writing a song about this is not that easy. For those of you that missed the point. He forgot to renew his domain and thinks someone poached it. He’s not sure what he’s going to do right now. And that is all the information any of you are getting from me regarding it. If you want to know more, you’ll have to talk to him.

Oh, and I didn't like the address because I didn't want to drive any more traffic that way if it was indeed stolen.

Managerial how-to video.

Here's a little educational video for all of you supervisors, managements and those aspiring to be in a position like that one day.

I would love to do something like this at my job. Unfortunately I think I would get sent back to sensitivity class yet again. What's even funnier about this video to me is that the complaining about headsets is something that I've had to deal with in my previous positions. The complaint about the headset being 5 years old and a "a little unstable" was one I received all the time. The headset I'm currently using I've had for 8 years and it's just fine.

Cheerleaders going down.

Okay, maybe it's because I'm a arsehole that I find this amusing. Maybe it's because I'm a bit on the sadistic side. Actually it's both of those and the deep seeded hatred I still have of Cheerleaders left over from High School. I'm not saying they aren't cute, and I don't want Ktreva to dress up as one at least once a month, but in general cheerleaders tend to annoy the crap out of me.

Since I found it funny and it is prime high school and college football time, I felt this video was appropriate. Enjoy Cheer leading routines gone bad.

Alcohol Therapy.

It seems that Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks finally got off his ass and decided to do something about his great emotional funk he's been in. He decided to get rip-roaring drunk on flavored vodka mixed with energy drinks (Which means he can now officially be called a Metrosexual at best).

Anyway, in his drunken stupor he put up a crap load worth of posts in what appears to be a relatively short about of time. Some are amusing just for the drunk factor. Go over and make his foggy headed morning for him and leave lots of comments, loudly.

And for the record I don't have three nipples, and if you want me to prove it, better bring some sunglasses. That much glowing white skin can damage your retinas.

Another "good" parent.

This is absolutely hilarious. I'm not sure what's funnier, the kid as he's holding on for dear life or the way his mother just laughs at him through the whole thing.

Okay, I'm going to go to hell for laughing at the kid.

Going away.

I’m going to be taking a break for a while. I’m not saying I’m quitting blogging, but I am going to be taking a hiatus for a while. There some pressing issues going on that need my attention.

Like the fact I’m going on vacation… SEE YA WHEN I GET BACK!

Garbage.

For the last couple of weeks some kind of animal had been getting into our trash, ripping the bags open and spreading garbage all over our yard and the alley. I was getting really annoyed and I didn’t know what to do other then try to find a more secure way to deal with the garbage. That was until this morning.

Ktreva had left for work with Clone already leaving me home alone. I was packing my cooler for work when I looked up and saw two guys going down the alley pushing a grocery cart full of bags. I see one of them touching our garbage bags and I can see he’s about to tear it open. He’s obviously looking for pop cans (we don’t recycle), if he was looking for credit card info and personal stuff; we shred all of that. It pissed me off, I realized it was these assholes that where spreading trash all over the alley and my yard.

I yell out the back window loudly, “If you rip that bag open I’m going to fill you so full of lead you’ll be able to use your dick as a pencil.” Yes, I stole a line from The Three Amigos. But I was angry and all I could think of. I never saw two homeless guys run down an alley pushing a cart so fast in my life.

The best part was that one of the new neighbors was outside when I yelled that out. For some reason they didn’t want to make eye contact with me.

I saw the signal.

I was getting ready to post, in detail but with out pictures, on Ogfest when I saw a sign. Somewhere south of me there is a bottle of Jack Daniels that is in dire need of drinking, and on one will do it. If it isn't drank today then it's purpose in the world will be lost.

Since, I could not in all moral conscious let that happen, I'm heading to save that bottle of Jack Daniels from being dumped down a drain.

Wish me luck.

Truth, it's relevant.

I’m sorry, but not everything you read is true. Some things you read are lies. Others that you read are a stretch of the truth.

I’ll let you decide on this tidbit here for yourself.

He's not a zombie, but he did rise from the grave.

HOLY CRAP! Wes of Bodhran Roll, Please! actually posted something! Of course it was mainly news from last month. IE, crappy re-enactment. IE, went to some Raptor Games… but then he drops a bombshell at the end.

In best Nelson laugh, HA-HA! Better you than me buddy! Four kids, yeah, it was nice seeing you!

In all seriousness, congratulations buddy.

Football and Phones.

What a wild and fun weekend for me. First off I would like to take this time to apologize to anyone that received a phone call from me between the hours of 8:00PM and 2:00AM CST. If you couldn’t tell, I was not quite functioning at full mental capacity. I really lost count of how much I had drank early on in the night. I don’t blame anyone else for my actions; it was completely my own fault. Next time I need to remember to not listen to T1G when he states that I need to “keep up with him” and that “I’m one behind.” So yes, I am truly sorry. We are going to invest in a drunk phone for me next time. The one that has the built in Breathalyzer so that you can’t drunken dial.

Other then that, Friday night was a blast. After work Ktreva and I went to the Rock River Raptor’s Season ticket holders party. I know they tried, but the party was pretty dead. Almost no one showed up other then the players and people associated with the organization. It was held outside in the heat… and they only served Bud, Bud Light and Corona. BLECH! We hung around for a while, but when we saw the party wasn’t going to get any better we left. Since we had a babysitter for the night, Ktreva didn’t want to go home. She wanted to hit the town. The problem was we couldn’t agree on were to go. She wanted to hit a bar. The problem was finding a bar that I would be comfortable in, but would also take my wife to. Most of the bars I tend to like are a little on the rougher side. Thus we ended up at Fritz’. Now I wasn’t positive T1G was going to be there, but well… yea I was pretty sure. Ktreva made the comment. “Great you guys are going to be talking all night and ignoring me.” I told her to call Tammi and tell her to come down. At this point she says, “I don’t have my phone.” FINE! So I call Tammi for her. And of course upon answering the phone I’m accused of drunk dialing. I explain the situation, and Tammi agrees to head down there as well. Flash-forward to a night filled with Day-glo green drinks, Tabasco in beer, and my ultimately delving into drunk dialing.

Saturday night I went with Bruce and our friend KF on the Rock River Raptor bus trip to Bloomington. Folks, this was well worth the price of the ticket. On the bus they supplied sandwiches, chips and fee beer and water. However the beer was Bud and Bud Light. Now I can’t fault them the beer. The local Bud distributor sponsors them, and apparently they are very generous. That’s okay; Bruce and I brought our own beer. For the bus trip I’m going to give some high lights.

-Bloomington’s stadium is awesome. They have a really nice set up with corporate sponsors. They have a Leinie Lodge, a Jack Daniel’s VIP section as well as a corporation that bought the rights to the stadium. There is an in stadium pro-shop and a jumbotron with instant replay. Their concessions were better quality and at about the same price range. Their seats have cup holders… NO SPILLED BEERS!

-Apparently when I get upset and am drinking I swear. Also apparently if I do this with Bruce around the angry parents of little kids will blame him.

-On road trips I do become “That Fan”. You know, the one that is really loud and cheering his team on, even after getting threatening looks from the home team fans. Either that or Bruce was swearing again.

-The best part about our seats was the fact that we were sitting with some of the player’s families. Blue Aldridge’s uncle was right behind us and he was just as fevered about the game as we were.

-The Raptors won by a point. Yes one point, which made this a very exciting and good game. Of course a missed PAT and short field goal doesn’t help. (I’m watching the placeholder for the next couple of games.

-Tom Crow, the Raptors GM, seems to be an actual nice guy. I’ve spoken with him on a couple occasions. He rode on the bus back from the game with us. We got to spend some time talking to him, and shooting off some ideas and what not. He seemed to take everything we said into consideration. Not that I actually expect him to listen to us, but he was cool about it. Especially since I kept calling him Tim. For the love of me I don’t know why I couldn’t get his name right. I actually started calling him Tim-Tom at one point as I tried to correct myself. He didn’t blow us off. During the ride back, I got a little hungry and Bruce grabbed the three remaining bags of Cheetos from the back of the bus. At that point Bruce kept calling me Cheeto and saying, “Good times Cheeto.” Tom Updates the Raptors site and in his brief post, Raptors Defeat Extreme he ends it with, “Also, a big “Thank You” goes out to our first official Fan Bus Trip of the season… Good Times Cheeto…” I'd like to the post itself, but the way the site is set up, I can't.

-I guess I should mention that my sister lives down there and is a Bloomington Extreme (yes, their team name sucks… extremely) fan. So I was able to see her. And harass her about the guy she brought with… and rub it in after the game that we won…

All in all it was a great time. For those of you that missed it, you missed a lot of fun. Just remember the next time they do a bus trip, you might want to jump on and just enjoy life a little more.

It's like banning art.

This morning I turned on the radio and they were talking about the town of Dalcambre, LA wants to ban baggy pants.

The ordinance states, "It shall be unlawful for any person in any public place or in view of the public to be found in a state of nudity, or partial nudity, or in dress not becoming to his or her sex, or in any indecent exposure of his or her person or undergarments, or be guilty of any indecent or lewd behavior."

So in other words those kids that are walking around with their pants around their knees would get slapped with:

The new indecent exposure ordinance in this Cajun-country town of about 2,000 carries penalties of up to six months in jail and a $500 fine for being caught in pants that show undergarments or, in the mayor's phrase, "private parts."

Yea, $500.00 and up to 6 months in jail, that’s just insane! But that’s not what has me posting about this. Sure this is politically correct BS beyond all reason. Don’t believe me, see what the mayor says:

The law applies to women as well as men, the mayor said Wednesday. "If you expose some of your privates, the crack of your behind, if somebody feels insulted they should press charges. If you're offended by it, we want to straighten that out."

Yea, if you’re offended by someone’s dress, you should press charges. Folks, I’d love to be the police officer that has to take that report. Little Old lady: “Officer, I’m offended by that guy's pants! I can see the top of his underwear when he bent over!” Officer, “Ma’am, are you farooking insane? He’s your plumber, he bent over to fix your pipes!” The whole thing is stupid and really, hard to enforce.

But what really has me about the whole thing is:

The law applies to women as well as men,

Wha-wha-wha-what?!?!?!?!?! C’mon Let the lady’s go. Sure I think they wear their pants way to low, I really don’t need to see that they are wearing their Monday thong on Thursday. Also I think it throws off the natural shape of a woman, but I digress. There are some upsides… like the hot 20+ year old girls wearing the micro mini’s bending over to pick something up. Or the sexy woman wearing the ultra tight jogging outfit running to keep in shape so her husband won’t look at the 20+ year old girls wearing the micro mini skirts. Personally, I like the older ones. I think the look of a mature woman is sexier then a younger baby-fat in the cheek girl. Also the women tend to be more… fun. If you know what I mean.

I can understand no one wanting to see a man’s hair arse. But why would you want to take away the joy and beauty that is a finely shaped female hiney? WHY?!?!?!?!

It’s just wrong!

So what do you think, should they make the ban for both men and women... or just men! You know where my vote is!

College Prank.

When I was in college my friends and I had a rule. If you pass out anywhere other then your own room, you were open game to have any numerous pranks pulled on you. This included drawing on the face, shaving of hair (I used to like to shave one eyebrow or half of the facial hair off.) and putting them in funny poses for pictures, usually vulgar.

These guys went to a level that I just never thought of.

Of course it was incredibly dangerous... but it's still funny.

EVIL!

Tonight I get home with the boys after work. As we were unloading some groceries from the trick three girls came walking down our street. They were all 15-17 years old, wearing tight black jeans, and corsets or mesh shirts you could see their bras through. They were all dressed in typical Goth black and blood red. Their hair had been dyed black with blood red streaks in it. Boopie was staring at them pretty hard.

Not because of what they were wearing or how goofy they looked, it was because they what they were wearing was tight and revealing. It didn’t help that the girls were pretty. I think Boopie’s chin was on his chest and he was about to start drooling. The girls were pretty full of themselves and were strutting their stuff. They were also being your typical Goth girls, you know “look at us, we’re different.” At this point I couldn’t help myself.

As the girls passed in front of my house, I yelled out, “Boopie, don’t look at the girls! They’re EEEEEEEEEEEVIL!” Then I proceeded to keep saying they are evil while and laughing as they walked by. At which point their faces were as red as their hair, they started to hurry up and I they were mouthing stuff off to me. Boopie turned beet red and ran into the house. I turned around to see that my new neighbors were staring at me. I just pointed to the girls and said, “I didn’t want my son looking at the girls. THEY ARE EVIL!”

For the record, that was a triple score. 1 point for embarrassing Boopie, 1 point for pissing off the Goth girls, and 1 point for scaring the new neighbors. It’s a good night.

JST WRNG

Personalized license plates. It’s a trend that is getting more and more prevalent, at least in Illinois. I don’t see anything wrong with them in general; both of my vehicles have personalized plates on them. But I do wonder about what people are having put on them.

First I think there should some truth in advertising. If you have a plate that says “SEKSAY1”, then you damn well better be sexy. When the plate states “BABE 3” you had better either indeed be a babe, meaning your hot, under the age of 1 (although why you’d need to drive at that age is beyond me), or be a talking pig. When I see a plate that says “Too Hot 2” then you better look like some kind of super model, preferably a lingerie model and wearing your work clothes. I’m sure I’m not the only person that sees plates like that and checks out the driver to see if it’s true. I’ve seen these plates all in the last week. Let me just say that I was sorely disappointed by all three.

But that gets to my main point, why would you want to put things on your plates that really don’t shed a good light on you? Again in the last week I’ve seen plates that have said, “SPRFSHL” (Superficial), “AROGANT” (Arrogant), “EGOTIST” (Egotist) and “SELFISH” (Selfish). Yes I know, they were simple to figure out, but I just wanted to make sure you all got the point.

Why would anyone want to advertise these traits? Do they think other people will be in awe of them for being brutally honest? Perhaps they think it makes them cool. I don’t know. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with having any of those on your license plates, but I just don’t get why? It would be like me having the license plate, if I could, ARSHOLE. Sure I advertise it here, but that’s because anyone that comes here knows it. But I don’t need to be driving around with that on my truck. It’ll just single me out to cops and idiot drives.

So what is the weirdest or most misleading license plate you’ve seen?

I've lost the element of surprise.

Operation Neighbor Scare may need to be upgraded from defensive to offensive standings. Things have started to spiral out of control, and it is now time to ensure my reputation. It seems that with the recent outflow of neighbors in the last 6 months and some of the houses and apartments being empty that my reputation in the neighborhood is not being spread with the foreboding warning that I have enjoyed in years past.

At approximately 18:30 Hours (6:30PM) I was conducting an interview of Boopie in the backyard. He allegedly hit a curb with his bike breaking off one of the foot peddles and he was trying to fix it. Prognosis: Foot peddle threads were stripped, we’ll have to buy a new foot peddle. Unrepearable with the tools and parts on hand. In the middle of my inspection of the part I hear a voice saying, “Hello there”. Looking up, I can see a white male approximately 35-40 years old, about 6 foot, approx 200 lbs, blonde thinning hair, standing at the fence between my property and the house that just sold.

Walking toward the fence I returned the individuals salutation. We introduced ourselves and then I was introduced to his wife and one of their children. At that point the situation took a turn for the worse as I was forced into conducting small talk and pleasantries with the obvious hostile. They even tried reconnoitering information about me and my family for an obviously attempt at a neighborly relationship. After fifteen minutes I excused myself to return to helping Boopie work on his bike.

Returning to the confines of my domicile I proceeded to cleanse myself with externally with soap and internally with Jack Daniel’s. This is when I realized that the mandatory, “Welcome to the neighborhood, stay the fark away from Contagion” talk had not happened with the neighbor. At this point it’s too late for the talk to happen and be as effective; I’m going to have to take some drastic measures.

I’m going to have to start cleaning a lot of weapons in the yard over the next couple of months. Finish getting that hawk block built and start practicing throwing tomahawks. Invite some friends over to sit in the back yard, drink a lot and tell some really inappropriate stories. If all else fails, I think they have a small animal as a pet. I own traps… I’ll let you do the math.

The neighbors are coming.

Last night I caught a glimpse of what might be the new neighbors. It looks like they are setting into moving in possibly as soon as this weekend. Then this morning I saw someone standing out by their garage looking at the roof. (Yes, the one I dropped the tree on).

So do I start doing werid stuff now, or do I wait until they get settled in?

Death to the plants!

So it was that time of the week again, you know what I’m talking about… mowing the lawn. My fine contaminants let me tell you that my personal hell is having to mow the lawn in the blazing sun. After about 2 minutes I start hoping I get physically injured so I can stop. Yes, I hate it that much that I start wishing for a hospital visit to get out of it. But I think I may have found the solution to my problem.

My weedwacker broke, so I couldn’t get along the edge of the house, fence, trees, etc. Since I was already in the midst of Operation “Salt the Earth” with these unwanted weeds that keep popping up along the back of the yard, I decided to use the same chemicals instead of weedwacking. This all started a couple of weeks ago. This was the best idea I’ve had in a long time! It worked really well… a little too well. Apparently the chemical I use kills weeds, grass, flowers, bushes, small trees, insects, alien life forms and almost anything that requires sun light or sun light using products to survive.

There is a ring of dead grass around my house. Small tress and bushes are dying at an alarming rate. I figure if I spray the rest of the lawn with this stuff, I won’t ever have to mow again! It’ll be great! I can talk Ktreva into letting me pave the yard and put down Astroturf! A whole section of Ktreva’s flowerbed has been returned to nothing but dirt. Insects don’t even cross the barren lands I’ve created. A three-year-old maple tree has returned to the earth from which it sprang, an eight-year-old bush I’ve tried cutting out for 5 years is withering and turning to mulch. Everything is dying!

Well, not everything. The damn weeds that I specifically bought this product for are thriving. I’ve doused them every week for a month and a half, and they just won’t die. Which is why I would have to pave the dirt… I couldn’t handle a yard full of these weeds. They grow faster then the grass.

Oh so good!

Today and tomorrow I have to be a single dad while Ktreva is out of town.

The boys have been acting up incessantly since 4:00PM.

For the love of all that is good Clone was trying to figure out how to load my blunderbuss. Thankfully I keep the black powder were he can't get it. When he asked for some, I knew something was up.

Boopie is mad because he has to do homework tonight instead of having a friend come over, so he is coping that 14 year old attitude.

It's hot and sticky.

But life is good. Because on a night like this, nothing hits the spot like an ice cold Jack and Coke... quadruple.

IT'S HERE!!!!

It’s getting closer and closer to summer. Technically it doesn’t start until June 21, but many people, including myself, view summer as starting Memorial Day weekend. This year summer seems to have come early. We’ve had a lot of high temps. While there are a lot of good things about summer, it happens to be one of my least favorite seasons. It just seems to be a miserable time of the year. Here are five reasons I hate the summer.

1) Heat. It’s farooking hot all the damn time. I’m a big guy and I’m constantly sweating. Nothing is worse then getting out of the shower, toweling off and then 5 minutes later having to towel off again. When the humidity is high, just shoot me.

2) Skimpy clothing. Okay some are going to argue this is a bonus. I’m sorry, but for every person that looks good in their really tight revealing outfits there are 5 that don’t. IE yesterday at the grocery store there was one lady that looked decent in her summer skirt and halter top, however the 350 pound guy wearing denim cut offs and a mesh half shirt almost made me chunder into the lobster tank. Let’s not forget the overly large lady wearing some kind of shorts that disappeared in the crack of her arse. It looked like she was wearing a thong… with two overly white mounds of cottage cheese for arse cheeks. Don’t get me wrong people, I’m a big ugly guy, nobody wants to see me in a speedo… including myself. I'm glad these people are proud of their bodies. I just wish they would be proud in private.

3) Open Windows. Don’t get me wrong, I like opening my windows. However, when you do, all the sounds of the world invade your house and car. When I’m driving home and listening to the car next to me playing that “thump-thump” crap over my stereo, it is annoying. It doesn’t matter how loud I turn my stereo up, I can still hear it. Plus I don’t want to listen to my music that loud to begin with. At night with the windows open (and living in an urban area) you get the sounds of the city, sirens, traffic, parties. This is fine early in the evening, at 2 in the morning I just want to sleep.

4) Idiots Out Wondering Around, (No I’m not talking about Iowa). When it’s cold out, these jack arses hide in their homes, bars or apartments. Now that it is warm they are roaming the streets. Sometimes they are just loud (See above about open windows), sometimes they are drunk, sometimes they come pounding on your door at the worst times wanting to know where his buddy “Fred” lives. The vandalism increases and so does property damage. Unfortunately there are laws about booby traps and hunting these inconsiderate arses.

5) No School. That means packs of kids from 10-24 are out in droves. The traffic has increased because the college kids have come home. The stores are filled with younger kids just “hanging out”. They play games in the middle of the street and don’t get out of the way. In fact just about any place I go is filled with kids June, July and August. To make matters worse they are rude, disrespectful, and can be the root cause for some of the above issues. That and if I have to listen to another sentence such as, “um, like Tina and I were um, like going to the store. And um, we ran into Brian there, and um, he was saying that Brandon was um, like totally into Tonya. And um, we were like no way. He was, um saying that Brandon like told him in person. Um and I think Tonya is like into Travis. Um….”, I'm going to try to swallow my own brain. Yea, I don’t know what’s with speech patterns today, but the word “like” is over used and using “um” ever 5 seconds makes me want to strangle them.

Sadly enough, if I could move to a quiet place in the middle of no where, I wouldn't have as many of these issues. I just can't do that.

Game Balls.

Last night was a Raptors game. As I was getting ready to leave, Grau pops over and says his shift was canceled. I had offered him my spare ticket earlier in the week, but he declined so it was offered to someone else. He was going to head to Carlyle’s to do some pre-game tailgating with us. When blog son Bruce showed up, he had a spare ticket. It seems his daughter decided at the last minute to not come with. So Grau was able to snag that seat.

It was a good game, in that the Raptors trounced the River City Rage. For the Rage, or I guess looking at their play last night we should call them the River City Repressed. The big news of the night is that Bruce finally got a game ball. Now, just a little back-story. Last season I had a game ball thrown to me by a player, same with this year, and a ball given to me by one of the coaches. So I have three game balls (I gave one to Boopie). Bruce, being petty and jealous, said they didn’t count because I didn’t CATCH it in game play. He kept telling me that it doesn’t count if you don’t CATCH it. Me, I think it doesn’t matter how you get one, as long as you get one.

So last night a ball is flung right toward Bruce and Grau’s seats. It actually looked like it was going to hit Grau in the head. Grau, panicking batted the ball to the ground with flailing hands. When he batted it, it flew 5 seats to their right and across an aisle. Bruce, in a move I did not think was possible, leapt up, barged pass Grau, pushed some 12 year old boy out of the way and I kid you not punched a 7 year old girl in the head to get the ball. Now, he did punch her, but it wasn’t intentional. Her head did whip back and she started crying as Bruce used his height and weight advantage to strip it from her hands. Folks, I'm not kidding, he really did wrestle the ball away from the kid.

In all honesty, I’m proud of him. He went out of the way to secure a memento that he will forever remember. Sure he may have been a little overly rough with the kid, but it taught her a valuable lesson; If you want to keep what's yours, you need to hold on to it. It’s just too bad that based on his own rules, it doesn’t count. He didn’t catch the ball. To me, I think it’s a valid way to get a ball, just like having a player give you the ball they just scored a touchdown with, but not to him. So Bruce, hopefully you can get over own issues with getting a game ball and can actually enjoy it.

I know I enjoy mine… all three of them.

How to embarass your child

It’s very easy, but it takes some time. First you need to give them a nickname. Something that is cute when they are young, but as they get older would be very embarrassing, such as Boopie. I gave Boopie his nickname when he was about 4 years old. There was a milk commercial that came out where a father walked into the kitchen and a baby was drinking milk from a bottle, the father said, “Hey there Boopie!” Ten years later I still call him Boopie.

Second, keep the nickname in the family. You don’t want all of his friends to be calling him that from the start. It’s best that only you, your families, and your friends refer to them by their nickname. If everyone does, it loses its effect.

Third, make sure your timing is right. You have to make sure that the child really hates the nickname and that they are worried about being “cool”. IE, they need to be a teenager. This is critical, you can have all the proper set up, but if you use it too soon, you won’t get the desired effect. Let me explain how:

Boopie is 14, even though I still call him Boopie and some of my friends do, no one else does. He hates, HATES the nickname. He even forbade me to call him that when I would pick him up or drop him off at school. I respected his wishes… until tonight. He had invited some friends over to shoot his Air Soft guns. They were all out in the back yard having fun when I walk out side wearing sandals, black socks, shorts and a button up plaid shirt. Just as he notices me, I say, “Hey Boopie, be careful I don’t want any of you to shoot an eye out. Oh and Boopie, don’t forget to take your bath tonight, I got you the bubbles that you like.” Then I turn around and go back inside. I heard chants of “Boopie?” followed by laughter coming from the back yard inside the house.

Yea, I know. But hell, I figure if I’m going to pay for the counseling anyways, I might as well have some fun with it.

Midget Basketball

Last month we had Midget Kickboxing, now thanks to commenter and contributor over at I Hate My Cubicle, Jabbah, we have Midget Basketball.

It just keeps getting better. Maybe next month we can get Midget Zombie Pr0n! Jabbah, if you ever make it to Rockford, let me know. I'm buying you a beer for this one!

Kill 'em all.

Ktreva and I were actually able to go out and see a movie last night. Since I love zombie movies, and 28 Weeks Later came out, we went to see that. Yes, I know those aren’t “real” zombies. They are humans infected with the rage virus. But you know what, damn near close enough. They may be easier to kill then real zombies, but they are stronger, faster a bit more cunning.

I enjoyed the movie, I thought it was pretty good. However, I will say that this movie is a prime example of how NOT to contain a zombie outbreak. They started off good, but then one security breech and they all went stupid. Then they tried to fix it in the only logical manner.

Folks let me tell you something. If there is a zombie and/or Virus outbreak and the Chief Medical Officer breaks protocol to “find a cure”, treat them as an infected hostile. That’s all I’m saying.

It's like a train wreck, only sexier.

What happens when cheerleaders fight?

I’m telling you guys, just add some butterscotch pudding and this would be a much better video.

Yea, the fight itself is lame… but it’s cheerleaders fighting. How can you not enjoy it?

Cinco De Mayo.

Today is Cinco De Mayo. I was going to go into a long history as to what this holiday actually celebrates, especially since there is some confusion about it. After much though, I figured why bother. Let’s face it; Cinco De Mayo in America is pretty much just like St Patrick’s Day.

It is just another day for single guys to attempt to score with drunk hot chic.

Except today it’s a hot Latino chic, while St. Patrick’s is a hot Irish chic.

So to all my single friends out there… happy hunting. And remember: tip your wingman well.

My two dads.

Well it looks like all the concern over who the father of Anna Nichole Smith’s baby has finally been resolved. For the last month we’ve heard day in and day out about how she died and who was the baby. This was getting to be a huge ordeal… well not for me as I couldn’t care less, but for other’s it was a big deal. They kept talking about it and in Vegas they even started taking bets as to who the father was, Larry Birkhead or Howard K. Stern.

I’m not sure what the odds were, but we all know who had to spread.

Trust is a powerful thing

You want proof that I love my wife? Her van is in the shop… again. Somehow she warped the rotors on the brakes with out even wearing the pads down. She has a very important appointment tonight that could not be rescheduled. I could have driven her to the appointment and gone and picked her up afterwards, but no. I love my wife.

I gave her the keys to my truck.

(Waits for shocked gasps to subside)

Yep, that’s right I let her drive my truck to the appointment and back. The truck that some people say I love more then her. Actually she’s on her way there right now. Am I worried? Nope, I trust her. I trust her completely. After 7.5 years of marriage there is no reason for me to not trust her. She is a smart woman and wouldn’t do anything stupid in it.

That and I trust the fact she knows that if she puts on scratch on it she’ll never hear the end of it.

And the family grows.

A long time ago I tried inspiring someone to start a blog, and the resulting blog started strong only to slowly fade away… in fact the last time I heard anything from Virtue was when she last babysat for us. That was back in August of last year.

So I had this friend (Yes, I actually have friends, I know it’s hard to believe) that was looking for a little outlet. He had been to my blog and slowly he started thinking about creating his own. This time, instead of taking the forcible pushing approach, I took the more guiding stance. I showed him where to go, gave him some tips and then let him do his own thing.

Because my first attempt was a complete and utter bust, I was hesitant to do it again. But I thought, no, I’m going to do it again. I’m not sure he really wants a large announcement into the world, but he’s getting one anyway. He needs all the help and support he can get right now.

Here he is my latest blogspawn and everyone’s favorite crime fighter Bruce Wayne and his blog Back to the Batcave. Maybe the Department of Blog Children won't take this one away from me.

Oh, and disregard his sidebar… I know, I tried to tell him, but he just won’t listen to me. You know how kids are these days.

Mexican Prank.

Some people will find this funny, some will find it mean and cruel, someone like me will find it hilarious. This was a prank they played on some attractive actress from a Mexican Soap Opera for a Mexican TV show. The spoken words are all in Spanish, but it has English subtitles. I will warn you that the language is kind of harsh, but in Spanish and the subtitles.

This girl freaked out pretty damn bad. Yea, I’m an arsehole.

It's wrong.

I asked a work friend of mine if he wanted to run to a local sporting goods store to look at the new rifles they received yesterday. He declined stating he was going tanning on lunch. Immediately I called BS on him and told him if the didn’t want to go all he had to say was no. Then he produced an appointment card to show he actually was going tanning.

Am I the only one that thinks there is something wrong with a guy going tanning?

How about if he is of Mexican decent?

Does this mean he's gay?

Steaming piles of wrong.

Trust me, this was much worse then you could possibly imagine. MUCH. WORSE.

Lets just say the pictures don’t do the horror justice.

Cleaning the kitty.

Cat torture? Amusement? Just wanting to keep your kitty clean? I’m not sure, but I about fell out of my chair laughing when the water started.

I can just hear the pissed off yowling of the cat was I watch it. It made me giggle.

Go for the head shot.

It looks like Graumagus is once again rose from the grave. I think this is just another sign that Zombies will rise up and take over the world.

Of course his first post contains a video that I told him and Harvey not to watch on New Years Eve. Some people just never listen.

Do we start a pool on how long before he drops off the grid again? (Hides from Grau)

Does creepy dance.

What ever you do, do NOT click this link.

It’s sick, it’s wrong, its NSFW, and it will make you look at fast food mascots in a different light.

Door-to-door revenge.

There are some things that are just annoying. One of the things that really pisses me off is when I actually get a Saturday morning to sleep in and it’s interrupted. I’ll be laying in bed dreaming one of those really cool dreams you hope for when I’m jarred awake by a pounding on my front door. Looking at the clock, you see it’s 8:00 AM. When you answer the door, it’s some door-to-door bible pusher trying to force their religion on you. You know who I’m talking about, the Jehovah’s witnesses or the Mormons. I’d like to say that I’m usually nice and polite to them when I tell them to bugger off, but I’m not. A couple of times firearms aided in the insistence that they leave my property.

Well one guy got pushed too far. He decided to do something about it

11/21/2006 - Australian filmmaker John Safran is so fed up with mormons ringing his doorbell early in the morning that he flies to Salt Lake City Utah and tries to convert Mormons to atheism. Needless to say, the locals were not pleased.

I love how the one guy says “This is inappropriate, take us off your list.”

So long, farewell, Aufwiedersehn, good bye!

In my opinion, this is about 15 years overdue. They should have taken him down during the first Gulf War.

Here’s a video of them walking him to the gallows. They don’t actually show him being dropped, but I’m sure over time that will be leaked to the net.

Good riddance.

What is a Graumagus???

I was just checking through my stats (Shut up Harvey! I know I said I quit doing that, and really I don’t do it as much as I used to. I only check them maybe 3 or 4 times a week now!) and I noticed someone found me by searching for “What is graumagus”

I doubt you found your answer to what a Graumagus, especially since most people don’t know. As far as I know, there is no definition of a Graumagus. So for you, my inspired inquirer, I will try to answer the eternal question, what is a Graumagus?

There is only one Graumagus (Argumentum Sphinctorus Homo Sapien). He is a friend and companion. One can rely on him when he’s needed, as long as it doesn’t require him to update his blog, Frizzen Sparks. Then you are out of luck for Graumagus is a fickle creature. He will say he is going to blog, and then he will stop with no notice. Only to pick up a month later lamenting his lack of blogging and getting your roped back in with posts only to go on hiatus again. His last message advised of the demise of Frizzen Sparks. However, he hinted to the fact that it was going to rise from the ashes on a different system. That was over a month ago. The Graumagus is a damn liar when it comes to blogs.

The Graumagus is politically boisterous. He has his views and opinions on everything from what the president is doing to what kind of shaving cream a person should us on their arse. For nothing more then giving him the impression that you are paying attention to him, he will gladly share these with you, in detail, ad nauseum. He can spend copious amounts of time describing the folly of liberal thinking.

Mainly the Graumagus is a useful creature to have around when there is an over abundance of alcohol that needs to be consumed. Thus decreasing the surplus in a region. There has yet to be an alcoholic beverage he will not drink, even at risk to his own brain cells and internal organs. He is also very useful in uplifting spirits and cheering up friends. Of course with the workaholic tendencies of the Graumagus, he doesn’t have much time for either.

Oh, and he’s Harvey’s hetero life-mate and part of the unholy union that spawned many bloggers.

There, that is what a Graumagus is.

All's quiet on the home front

Christmas has come early to the Contagion house. Ktreva woke up Sunday morning with no voice. And I mean NO voice, not a raspy voice, not a horse voice; I’m talking about a serious lack of sound. Three days later it’s not showing any signs of coming back. It’s been so peaceful and quiet around here. Sure, she’s a lot more animated waving her arms all over the place and throwing things at me, but no more “Take out the garbage”, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?”, “You know, you could help clean around here” and “For the love of all that is good in the world, would you let me use the computer?”

The best part is that at night I don’t have to hear, “Not tonight, I’ve got a headache” or “You are NOT going to put that there!” I can tell she's really into it by the way she squirms! It’s not that I’m not listening to her, I really am. I just tell her to speak up loud and clear if she wants me to stop or help out with something. She’s been awfully quiet about it, so I’m in the clear.

Enough with ESPN.

All right, I’ve had it. You all know I love my football, but I’ve given up on Monday Night Football. There is no way I can watch the games anymore. It has nothing to do with the games; it’s the damn announcing. Al Michaels and John Madden used to annoy me with there ranting, but at least it would pertain to football. Joe Theismann, Mike Tirico and Tony Kornheiser (Henceforth known as Kornholer) will babble on about anything that trips their triggers.

They even bring on guests to interview DURING the game that have nothing to do with football. They talk over plays and then have to go back to get a recap of what happened. When they do try to provide insight it’s like listening to most women talk about the game with men wearing tight pants.* It’s usually stuff that everybody knows or has just seen on the screen. They drive me nuts. I’d rather listen to Clone try to explain calculus to me than these three blather on.

I’ve tried listening to the radio while the sound is off on the TV. The only problem is that when it shows the three of them yapping like old women, I can hear the plays they are missing. Why bother?!? Thus I’m done. I will no longer watch Monday Night Football until ESPN looses these three or makes them actually announce the game they are at.

I wish the guys the best of luck; hopefully they will get better as time goes on. Oh, and Theismann, break a leg.

*Some women can actually talk football and not sound stupid.

Karma

Karma:
Pronunciation: 'kär-m& also 'k&r-
Function: noun
Etymology: Sanskrit karma fate, work
1 often capitalized : the force generated by a person's actions held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate transmigration and in its ethical consequences to determine the nature of the person's next existence.
2 Getting gleeful amusement for something that happens to another individual that once did the same thing to you.

It seems my blog momma-sis, Boudicca, thinks that That1Guy is going to shoot his eye out if he gets a firearm for Christmas. I think she got some long overdue revenge for me for a certain photoshopping incident that happened last February.

Excuse me while I laugh maniacally.

Sensitivity Class strikes again.

Oh, and I just noticed that sometime yesterday I broke the 50,000 visitor mark. Yea, I know compared to my blog parents and most of my siblings, this is nothing. I, However, find pride that my 50,000th visitor was searching for Sensitivity Class. I’m still the second hit on Google for that. I'm sure it has to do with these.

Which reminds me, it’s been almost a year since I’ve been sent to sensitivity class.

It's almost like stalking.

Eric, the Straight White Guy, is creeping me out. He has some kind of camera system hooked up to his computer. It’s kind of unnerving to watch him, watching me read his blog. It’s almost like having someone reading over your shoulder. Excuse me; I’m going to go unplug my camera to make sure he really can’t see me.

Contagion's Revenge

Ahh, the ol’ chunder bucket has had a workout this week. First Clone started getting sick around 2:00AM Wednesday morning. He seemed to recover by Noon on Thanksgiving. Friday my mother has come down with the same bug. Apparently she was blowing chunks most of the day. Saturday morning Ktreva and her Grandfather both have a case of Technicolor yawns. By Saturday afternoon my sister was tossing cookies and Boopie was starting to feel like he was going to spew.

At this point I’m the only person in my immediate family that hasn’t gotten sick yet. Today all the parties seem to be recovering. At this time I’m going to call this illness Contagion’s Revenge. It’s payback for me not being able to have an enjoyable and relaxing holiday.

They allow that on ESPN?

“When he hit his butt, the ball came squirting out”

As heard last night during the Tampa Bay Vs. Carolina game. For a split second I wondered if I was watching gay pr0n.

There is nothing they won't sell

We’ve all seen athletes that do endorsements for various products. Every time you turn on the TV you see someone hocking anything from aspirin to Zima (Nasty as it is). Inevitably some athletes are more popular then others. Every Sunday as I watch the Football games I see multiple adds that have Peyton Manning in them, some are even hilarious, but he’s not the worst out there. Some friends of mine are huge NASCAR fans. Personally, I find it boring and don’t count it as a sport… but that is an argument for another post, again. Occasionally I’ve gone over to watch races with them, mainly to drink beer, socialize and cheer for crashes (where no one gets hurt).

It was during these little parties that I noticed one driver in particular had the lion’s share of commercials. The guy was on at least one out of every three commercials. I started dubbing the guy “Media Whore”. Of course I’m referring to Dale Earnhardt Jr. From what I can tell there is nothing this guy will not put his name or likeness to. I can’t count the numerous products I’ve seen him endorse. I’m just waiting for him to cross the final boundary and start selling feminine hygiene products.

I can just see the commercial now.

Dale: “Not all tampons are the same. When you are being active or sitting in a car for a long time, the last thing you want is leakage. During the race I hug the walls and so do these NASCAR Tampons. Nothing gets past them, just like me! With the easy applicator you can insert them faster then my car coming out of turn number three in Daytona. The handy braided string with the number 8 logo gives you easier extraction then pulling Tony Stewart out of a car after a crash. There is even an indicator on it to tell you if you need to change, just like a crew chief. So remember, NASCAR Tampons for life in the fast lane!”

Yea… Sadly I’m thinking I’m actually going to see this commercial in a couple of years.

Eh, who cares.

I can see where it was let out of the bag that today is my birthday. Contrary to Grau’s assertions, I don’t hate my birthday. I just don’t celebrate it. I haven’t for many years now, in fact since I was in college. It has nothing to do with my getting older. I have no problem with getting older, sure my body may not hold up to all the physical abuse that it use to, but mentally I’m still sixteen. As for my getting grey hair, owell… Grey hair and wrinkles on a man is distinguishing. That’s why so many people think Sean Connery is hot. I like the grey hair; I think it actually makes me look more respectable and authoritative.

Why don’t I celebrate my birthday? Because it seems so shallow and a waste of time and money. I’m no different today then I was yesterday and I will be tomorrow… unless this thing in my stomach bursts forth. There is nothing about today that makes me any more special then any other day of the year.

I know people that are obsessive about their birthdays and get upset if it does go as they planned or they don’t get what they want. There is a lady I work with that was all upset at her last birthday because her husband threw her a party and invited some close personal friends. She wanted a huge party with a lot of guests. Her husband “ruined her birthday�. Not me, if Ktreva doesn’t do anything I’m fine. I’d prefer she not spend the money on a gift. That money could be better spent on stuff for the boys or her.

I know a lot of people won’t understand where I’m coming from, but that doesn’t bother me. Wishing me a happy birthday is not going to upset me. However, my lack of acknowledgement or appreciation for well wishes might upset others. It’s not that I’m going out of my way to be an arsehole, it’s just that if you aren’t going to respect my decision to not celebrate my birthday, I’m not going to return that lack of respect.

Have you ever...

...had the urge to pee outside?

yea, me neither... and I didn't just do it.

The neighborhood smells good.

Everyone might remember that last weekend I was in a grilling mood, so I made some slow cooked pork chops. Unfortunately that didn’t cure my need to grill. All week I kept thinking of what choice of meat I could slow cook for hours. Finally I decided on a nice beef brisket. It’s been cooking over a low smoky heat for 6 hours. It’s about ready to be pulled off and eaten.

Click to Enlarge

I’m not meaning to gloat, but damn, it would be just down right inhumane of me to not share this!

If it makes you feel better, it's been raining with hail for the last 4 hours. Yes, I've been going out into that weather to make sure the meat cooked up right.

What? No, bad weather is not going to stop me from grilling.

Proof at last!

I have proof of global warming! It’s August and the weather here is completely out of control. It’s been raining off an on for 4 days straight and now today the temps were in the low 70’s. At 6:00 PM this evening it was already 64 degrees. In fact as I am writing this, the temp is dropping. It’s already down to 63 degrees.

There is only one thing that could cause these freakishly cold temperatures, Global Warming. I mean, it falls into the all the other theories I’ve heard of late. Last year we were in a draught, due to global warming, this year we are above average, due to global warming. Last year there were 11 Hurricanes/tropical storms by this time. We were told that was due to global warming. This year there aren’t as many, and again Global warming is being toted as the culprit. Based on this, I figure these freakishly cool temps in August are again a result of global warming, last year they said the unseasonably hot weather was proof of it.

So there you go all you non-believers, proof.

</sarcasm>

I love hack science.

Make her work!

Some of you may have noticed that my wife hasn’t been posting much over at The Reality Ranch. First off before any rumors come around let me set the record straight, I have not killed her. She was not left in Tennessee. She was not abandoned at a re-enactment. I definitely did not sell her as a sex slave on the black market. Although with the price of gas being the way it is and the amount I can get for pretty blonde, the thought never crossed my mind.

She’s just being lazy. She says she’s working a lot, but I see what she does after she gets home from work. It’s just plain neglect. If any of you want to hear from her, I think you should go over and make a comment to voice your concern!

I only met the boy once... I think.

Rumor has it that my blog daughter, Virtue of The Rantings of an Indentured Servant, done gone and got herself engaged. When she comes up this weekend to baby sit, I’m going to have a long talk with her.

Congratulations Virtue, I expect the wedding to NOT be on a re-enacting weekend!

I know I said I was going to quit posting about our vacation, but I forgot to tell you about a place we almost went to, but opted not to. While watching Clone when Ktreva and Boopie went horseback riding, I saw a sign that at first I thought I had misread. Upon a closer look I had not. The Golgotha Fun Park.

The place was closed, and by closed I mean permanently. It looked like it had not been open for many years. Maybe it was their advertising campaign:

Golgotha Fun Park: More fun then an execution.

Golgotha Fun Park: You don’t need nails to be put up for the night.

Hang around a while, Jesus did. Golgotha Fun Park.

Even Barabbas came away grinning from Golgotha Fun Park!

It makes me wonder if the owners knew what Golgotha was, or if they just like the sound of it. Either way it looks like it was a bad idea.

Yea, I know, I’m going to hell.

Reach out and touch someone.

It’s 11:oo PM my time… too late to do some drunken dialing?!?!? I have the urge to call and talk to people. Yea, you read that one right.

They're here!

Jealous?

Yea, I would be too. :)

October 8th Green Bay, Wisconsin. I'm already excited. If anyone wants to meet for a drink or two before or after the game, let me know!

Hair no more.

I finally trimmed my facial hair. This last weekend with it being so hot, I was sweating profusely. My facial hair would trap that sweat. Then when ever I went to eat or drink something it would taste like sweat. I pretty much decided at that point it was gone.

Over the weekend we (meaning I) did have some fun with it. We were camped with some re-enacting friends and all of them where getting skeeved out over the “Vast disgustingness� that was my facial hair. In the mornings I had food that had gravy, Saturday it was biscuits and Gravy and Sunday it was country friend steak and Eggs that had gravy. At one point someone applauded me for grooming my facial hair during my meal. They said they had seen others that would just leave the food in their facial hair; I at least made an attempt to wipe away what was caught in it. I had to explain I was not wiping the food away; I was using my hand to rub it in. That way it would hold the hairs in place and then later I could suck on it to get the flavor. Then I demonstrated by placing my beard in my mouth and sucking on it.

In the afternoon on Saturday I noticed there was something floating in the bottom of my water. I showed it to Red and we both decided that it looked like sugar floating in the bottom of a cup. When I got down to it, I discovered it was flour… from the gravy. It had washed out of my facial hair into the cup. This of course received a collective gag from everyone around me.

I’ve had a lot of fun with it, but it was time to go. That and yesterday was Ktreva’s birthday. She’s 29 Version 7. The only thing she really wanted for her birthday was for me to trim my facial hair. How could I say no?

Although I do have to admit every time over the weekend when someone caught me sucking on it, and they would gag, it made me laugh. Especially when I said, “MMMmmm, Bacon� and the group looked over thinking I was eating bacon only to see my mustache in my mouth.

I'm not just any arsehole!

Okay, I did the task that was assigned to me. T1G is currently passed out in the other room sleeping off a rather nasty concoction of Beer, Hard Liquour, Football, and hot wings. It's his birthday, what else was I supposed to do? May god had mercy on his soul. All Tammi told me was, keep him distracted. Well at least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

We’re supposed to get T1G something for his birthday he’d like. Well I’m not sure in his present state he could hand the Honeybears.

So I though I would get him this instead. At least he can drink what he makes!

I'm just really hoping he doesn't kick me in the dick when he sobers up to realize he's received a Jack Daniel's enema.

Dating and Facial Hair

Okay, I’ve had quite a few questions regarding A) My Date last night and 2) My Facial Hair. Especially since the two are linked by the fact that Ktreva hates it. Well let me start by saying that if all my dates in High School and College had gone as well as last nights, I’d give Magic Johnson a run for the money.

As for the facial hair, it has been two months. Now, normally when I trim my facial hair I keep it short, about a quarter of an inch. Right now, it is about 1.5 inches long. The beard is longer then the mustache.

Drinking anything out of a glass is difficult. If you watch movies and you see guys with burly facial hair drinking, you will notice that a good portion of the drink runs down their facial hair. In the past I figured it was because they where just sloppy drinkers. Nope, that’s not the case at all. The facial hair acts as a strainer and barrier. Unwanted chunks can’t get past, however there is a certain amount of fluid that is lost down the front of you. I’ve tried different tactics, but nothing prevents this from happening.

Speaking of the straining aspect. I’ve discovered that I can buy a couple of really good beers and make them last all night, especially after I’ve switched to cheap beer. The flavor of the good beer gets saturated into the facial hair and as you strain the cheaper beer through it, it picks up the flavor.

Speaking of flavor! I’ve found that my new facial hair has saved me on purchasing items such as flavored chips. Last Saturday I had been snacking on Doritos early in the day. That evening as I was licking my lips I noticed that all the flavor dust had attached to my mustache. Much like pollen to a bee. I was able to enjoy the flavor of the Doritos with out eating anymore by sucking on my facial hair!

I thought you might want a demonstration so I re-enacted it for you… hey that’s what I do, re-enact.

So as you can see the facial hair is coming in just fine. It’s really taken on the natural red coloring that’s hard to see when it’s short. It’s also the last facial hair on my body that does NOT have gray in it.

When not to answer your door with a gun.

Last Saturday I was sitting on the couch in my living room watching TV. From the corner of my eye I catch movement through the window. I see two Hispanic males wearing basketball jerseys and bandanas walking down my driveway from my back yard. What the hell! I watch as they get to the sidewalk, turn and then come up the walk to my front door.

Oh hell no! You do not come out of my back yard, and then have the nerve to walk up to my front door. Quickly I grabbed the first thing in reach, my blunderbuss. Okay, it’s a primitive firearm, but all they see is a giant barrel. Most of the time people can’t tell that it’s not loaded or that it even requires black powder in the pan, the hammer cocked, a flint and the frizzen to be closed in order for it to fire.

With the blunderbuss over my shoulder I answer the door, “Can I help you with something.� These two teens are eyeing the beast slung over my shoulder with a mixture of “Oh Crap� and “Dude, that’s cool!� looks on their faces. Kind of nervously, one of the teenagers says, “We are with the local church. We are having a picnic next Saturday for everyone in the neighborhood. We wanted to personally invite you and your family to come and join in the festivities. There will be food, drinks and games for everyone. Here’s a flyer. Do you think you’ll be able to come?�

I flip that blunderbuss off my shoulder and level at the kid’s head. “GET THE FARK OFF MY PROPERTY YOU BIBLE THUMPIN’ DOOR BELL PUSHER! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO SMEAR YOUR BRAIN ALL OVER YOUR BUDDY STANDING BEHIND YOU! YOU HAVE UNTIL THE COUNT OF THREE AND THEN I’LL FILL YOU SO FULL OF LEAD, YOU CAN USE YOUR DICK AS A PENCIL!*� These two kids jump off the porch and run like their arse is on fire and their hair was a catchin’. One of the boys was running so fast ran right out of his sneakers. The other tripped and fell since his droopy pants fell down around his ankles.

And then my brain kicked in and decided to not do any of the above thinking it would have ended up with me in jail. I politely explained that I was not going to be available to attend; I have a Raptors game that night! Give up football for Church… What kind of sacrilege is that?

*I loved that line in the Three Amigos. I try to use it when ever it can be applied properly.

He's three!

It’s Harvey of Bad Example’s three year blogging anniversary. As he is part of the unholy trinity that begat my blogging career, I feel the need to share a story about Harvey. Of course it’s not about how I was begat, the statute of limitations aren’t up and I believe all three parties are still in relative good terms with their spouses.

Back in the dark ages, about 1 BC (Before Contagion) I used to roam the Internet, a lost soul leaving comments on various blogs, but never entertaining the thought of starting my own. Then one day I received an e-mail from someone I didn’t recognize. I really wished I had saved the message at it touched me deeply, but I do remember what it said.

“Hey, if you’re going to soil my blog with your comments, why don’t you get off your whisky soaked butt and actually start your own. You can’t be much worse then half the crap that is out there on Myspace. Well, then again you might. Anyway, I’m off topic here. You should at least start something so that we can reciprocate your comments by ignoring you.� --Harvey

I paraphrased a little, but that pretty much was like that. So away I went and started Miasmatic Review. Being a novice at blogging and he would actually return my e-mails, unlike the other two parts of the unholy trinity that I think have pretty much disavowed any knowledge of their part in bringing me into the blogging world, I’d ask him for advice on how to do various things… like set up trackbacks. That and his wonderful blogging tips actually kept me from making a lot of unnecessary faux pas, as opposed to the necessary ones that I made on my own.

Move forward a couple of months and I was advised of a blogmeet and had heard that Mr. Bad Example himself was going to be there. Oh glory of day! How could I pass up a chance to meet the man that inspired, motivated, coerced and assisted me in starting to blog? I vowed by all that is good and right in the world that I would be at this blogmeet, no matter what!

Upon arrival I instantly knew who he was. Not because of how he looked, or his mannerisms. It was because I heard him ask a waitress, “So, if you where going to start a blog, what would you call it?� As I walked to the table, he stood up to great me. It was like he was psychic; I’d never met him before, yet he knew who I was. Was it that paternal bond? Could it be his ever presence in the blogosphere gave him the ability to look through monitors? Could it be that his stalker like tendencies caused him to look up pictures of me, the mass abundance of them, on the Internet. He walked up and said, “You must be Contagion. I would recognize that spiky hair anywhere.� Then he proceeded to shake my hand and show me to a chair at the table. He took the liberty of introducing me to all of the other bloggers at the table. With cigars and whisky, he made me feel comfortable and welcomed. It was like I was a long lost son coming home.

Things got a little weird when he started referring to me as his boy and tried to hug me a couple of times, but I explained how I don’t hug and he stopped. Then, when the others weren’t paying attention, he said to me, “I have problem and I’m going to need your assistance. I feel you are the perfect person to help me with this task.� I was awestruck. He actually wanted my assistance. Me, a blogging newbie that had yet to make his mark in the blogosphere. (and still hasn’t). I couldn’t wait to hear what he could possibly want. Eagerly I agreed to help.

I asked, “What is it you want me to do?�

He leans closer, lips inches from my ear and yells. “GET OFF MY LAP YOU DRUNK! YOU HAVE YOUR OWN DAMN CHAIR!�

The ladies find it sexy.

The facial hair is coming in nicely. My mustache now covers my bottom lip. It looks a little ragged, until I start eating. Then the food works as a styling agent to help hold it in place. Ktreva finds that rather disgusting, but hey it works. Plus I discovered last Saturday at the Raptors game that if I drink good beer before going to the game. The filtering process makes the cheep beer taste like the good beer. Bonus!

I finally had someone at work question the bushiness of my face, or in their words, “Why is there a dead squirrel on your face?� I explained that I’m a re-enactor and I’m trying to get period facial hair, that and the fact that Ktreva forbid me from growing it, so now I must in order to preserve my male dominance in the house… well at least on this topic.

I’d post a picture, but many of you have politely requested I not do so anymore as it scared you. I’m just trying to be polite… this time.

Just call me Bushy Bill.

I still haven’t trimmed the facial hair. It’s starting to grow pretty bushy. I’ve been combing it daily so it won’t look as bushy. Upon her arrival home Ktreva uttered the phrase, “I was really hoping you where going to trim that up before I got home.�

Not going to happen. At this rate, by the time my next event comes along you won’t be able to see my mouth through the mustache.

Mysteries of the mind.

There’s a commercial for EPT that just makes me laugh. There is a lady walking, and she is thinking to herself, “I can’t concentrate, I wonder if I’m pregnant.� This strikes me as highly amusing. I mean, c’mon lets face it, the commercial is actually saying, “My brain doesn’t work, I wonder if I’ve got a bun in the oven?� only slightly more sensitively.

I’ve latched onto this theory with gusto. Every time Ktreva says, “I forgot� or when she does something with out thinking, I ask her, “Hun, are you pregnant? You’re brain’s stopped working.� I was at work and one of my peers actually said, “I can’t concentrate.� Since this was an office and work environment, I had to be more sensitive about how I phrased my question, so I shot out with, “According to the EPT commercial that means you might be pregnant.�

I’m not sure what was funnier the emphatic denial of, “I had better not be pregnant� or the worried look I received. You know, the look that tells a person “Crap, that MAY be what the problem is.� She left work in a hurry yesterday; kind of like her arse was on fire and her hair was catching. This morning she informs me that she is definitely not pregnant. She sure did look relieved.

Facial hair that should not be.

The Battle for the facial hair is on. I have not trimmed in 4 weeks. Ktreva is starting to get irritated. I am still resisting the urge to trim, even though at dinner tonight I thought the bread had gone fuzzy. Then I realized I had a mouth full of my own facial hair.

Grau's mid-life Crises.

Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks has decided to have a mid-life crisis. How one just ups and decides this is beyond me, but he has. To make matters even goofier he can’t come up with something to do as part of his crises and has asked his readers for suggestions. Of course he has set some rules:

1)Must cost less than $100 unless you bastards are willing to cough up the dough for whatever sick shit you inflict on me.
2) Must not be a criminal offense. Sorry folks, I have a family to support and I'm not going to jail and/or getting a permanent criminal record for your amusement.
3) Must not lose me my job (see above).
4) No genital piercings. Self explanitory (and besides, do you really want to see photos of my pasty nads with steel bits through 'em?)
5) Must not get me killed. Remember, the whole idea is that I live another 35 years, remember? Possibly in shame after this is over, but alive nonetheless.
6) Must not end up in divorce. In other words, the conjoined albino midget hookers aren't an option. Sorry guys. I'm sure this will end with me being in trouble (I'll be in trouble after Maranda reads this post) but nothing that's actionable in court, please...
7) No permanent body modification. I'm not getting anymore tats just yet.
8) No eating Lutefisk. Or other horrible poisonous things like scat, urine, eyeballs, etc.
9) No making me dress up like Emma Peel. This woman gets irate when I suggest that. In fact, I'm taking "Grau in drag" off the table as being too horrible to inflict on humanity in general.

Then as if this wasn’t just down right goofy enough, he has decided that T1G, Harvey and myself are going to be the judges to pick and enforce this crisis. (Yea, the man is pretty daft.)

To make sure I don't wuss out, and to pick the submissions to be included in the final poll, three shall be chosen to make sure the sentence is properly enacted. I haven't asked them yet, but I'm sure that Contagion, T1G, and Harvey will relish the idea of torturing and humiliating me will be fair and impartial judges. Being chosen to execute the sentence does not disqualify any of them from submitting entries. God help me.

About know if you’ve read him in the past, you know he is very familiar with the individuals that he picked as judges. That means you have to be thinking, “Grau, you’re one stupid son of a beaotch.� Because you know I’m going to jump all over being a judge. Even if that means I have to sit in a room and watch him have a full body wax. Sure I may end up in counseling for it, but I’d love to see his reaction when they hot wax his balls. Picture if you will a big man crying and screaming for his mommy. Yea, I may be scared from seeing his pasty nads… but the mental image of him screaming already is making me chuckle.

So head on over, make your suggestions. Make sure they are good. We, er I, want something I can make fun of him for years about.

My wife says no... but I might anyway.

For years my wife and I have gone around and around over my facial hair. I want to let mine grow out more; she wants me to keep it closely trimmed. The only thing we both can agree on is that I must have facial hair.

I want my facial hair to be longer so that it fits in better with re-enacting the period I’m portraying. To me I want to try to do the entire package of re-enacting, including the facial hair. Ktreva just wants it so that she’s not even more embarrassed to be seen with me in public. When I showed her this picture she emphatically said no, and called her lawyer.

Either way, I’m thinking I could pull off some of these great mustaches. However, the one above is my favorite.

That's not what they are looking for!

There are so many reasons this is wrong. I feel bad for the poor fool that actually came here looking for actual information on this topic.

I’m the Number 2 hit for Sensitivity Class on Google.

Click to enlarge

What's wrong with me?!?!

What the hell. I think I need to adjust my personality. It seems that all of my friends are either moving away, becoming truck drivers, thinking of moving away or have jobs that make it damn near impossible to see them anymore. The only thing they have in common is that they are all friends of mine. This has made for quite a predicament. I need to try to make new friends.

I hate making new friends. It’s like change, and change is bad. That and I’m not good at it. I’m just waiting to see who goes next. I know they all say it's not me, but I know... oh yes, I know!

I prefer my Douchebags with redheads.

We’ve all seen it; you have some freaky looking guy or one that has the personality of a compost heap with a hot girl. Well at least I see it all the time. Most common is the guy that is just a brain dead Neanderthal who thinks he’s god’s gift to the world when in reality we’d be better off with out him. But this guy has some pretty girl on his arm all the time which helps bolster his over-inflated ego.

I’m not the only one to have noticed this, and there is a guy that has dedicated a blog to the study of the phenomenon, Hot Chicks with Douchebags. It’s “pictures of hot chicks with total and complete douchebags. With commentary. The best thing about it is that the writer claims to be a douchebag himself, but is upset he can’t get any hot chicks.

I’m not sure what’s better, the commentary or the really unflattering photo’s of guys being hose heads, er douchebags! BTW, the kid above... I can't blame him. But the brunette is hotter, but the blondes boobages are more in his face. Tough decisions.

Rasslin'

Some of you may remember that a couple of weeks back I attended a Wrestlemania Party. Let me start off by saying, I do not like wrestling. (Pronounced Rass-lin) Years ago I used to be a fan of the WWF, now the WWE. That was when I was in middle school. As I grew up I realized just how stupid it was. That and it’s not a sport. I don’t care what people say, it is NOT a sport. Sports are not scripted and the participants know who is going to win before the match ever starts. I will concede that the wrestlers are athletes. They do need to know what they are doing and they do keep themselves pretty physically fit. Even the big fat ones have to be pretty damn strong to do some of the stuff they do.

Since I have no love for wrestling, I tried to talk my way out of having to go to this party. I tried everything from “You know I really hate wrestling, you wouldn’t be too pissed if I didn’t show, would you?� to “If I go, I’m just going to make fun of it the whole time.� The two friends of mine hosting it insisted I be there. I think that both of them have it in their head that they will win me over to becoming a wrestling fan. Both of them are pretty damn delusional.

Earlier that day I was supposed to go shooting. The weather didn’t cooperate, and I didn’t get to go. Since I had nothing better to do, I picked up some beer and headed to my friends house early. When I walked through the door Ton-loc (My friend who owns the house) wasn’t there. Our mutual friend J-man was there watching Nascar. J-man and Ton-loc have been friends for a long time, J-man tends to head there when he wants to get away from his wife and kids. Now if there is anything I dislike almost as much as Wrestling, it’s Nascar. The only time I find Nascar remotely interesting is when there is an accident. Any competition (Nascar is not a sport) that only appeals to my sadistic side is not one I want to watch. J-man is a huge Dale Jr. fan, so of course to get myself in the mood for that night's festivities. Cracking open a beer, I sit down and start the conversation with, “So has Dale crashed yet? Ya know he’s going to lose right?� Yea, I’m a good man. He smarted off something about he’s in tenth place. So which I respond with, “That makes him the 9th loser right? Because there is only one winner, every one else lost. They just lost at varying degrees of suck.� J-man looks at me as I finish my first beer and says, “You’ve been here 10 minutes, you’ve already drank one beer and are being a complete arsehole already. It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?" Of course I respond with, �Well I asked if could get out of this, both you and ton-loc said no, deal with your bad decision.�

Wrestlemania was as bad, if not worse then I had anticipated. By the time the show started, I was over halfway through the case of beer. Each match I’m sitting there tearing into it, making fun of the whole thing spouting off insults and just laughing at the cheesy acting and script. Now, there was one match that I actually got into. There was some kind of no-holds barred match where the wrestlers could use weapons. One guy comes in with a baseball bat. After a couple of hits he throws it out of the ring. I’m screaming at the TV “What the fark!?!?!?! Don’t throw the bat out, go Babe Ruth on his kidneys!� The other wrestler had barbed wire wrapped around him, and he pulled it out and was cutting the shit out of bat-boy. At one point barbed wire man had the barbed wire around bat-boy like he was choking him. “Pop his farkin’ head off!� came out of my mouth before my sensitivity filter kicked in. The other people in the room are looking at me as if I was the one trying to garrote someone. Barbed wire man jumped out of the ring and picked up a baseball bat… wrapped in barbed wire. I think at this point I actually laughed amusedly. Again, I’m cheering on to use the barbed wire wrapped bat to beat the ever-loving snot out of the other guy. Nope, just a couple of cuts and then they pull out aluminum cookie sheets to hit each other with.

Yes

That’s right.

They gave up bats, for aluminum cookie sheets. I sat down in my chair and went off on a tirade that I swear is still hovering over Rockford and causing women to blush and children to plug their ears. C’mon I could smash your skull with a bat, but I’m going to use an aluminum cookie sheet that forms itself to the contours of your face when I hit you with it. It was like a farking cartoon folks!

After the cookie sheets, one of the guys goes and moves the stairs into the ring. There is a pair of brass knuckles and some kind of bag. Of course Mr. Sadist here is screaming for the brass knuckles. The other people in the room are starting to get panicked. One of the guys runs and grabs me a beer thinking he could distract me from my hope of impending violence. Both fail when the idiot grabs the bag instead of the brass knuckles. �That damn bag better be filled with lead shot.� I mutter under my breath. Nope, no lead shot. Tacks, brass thumbtacks are what are in the bag. What the hell, this sucks. You could be rearranging the other guy’s skull, but no you are going to tack him down. FARK!!!!!

Then the wrestler pours the tacks out all over the ring. The other wrestler grabs him and body slams the guy that dumped the tacks out onto said tacks. When the wrestler got up, his back and arms where covered in tacks. He looked like he was wearing studded leather. That was actually cool. The match went on and there was some fire and some other stuff and the studded bat-boy ended up winning, but that was the only match I enjoyed.

The Losers My friends got all excited about the women wrestling matches. I was less then enthralled by it. Unless they are wrestling in pudding, I just don’t care. Ton-loc asked at one point during one of the matches, �Do you have to work hard to be that big of an arsehole, or does it just come naturally?� I explained it’s all natural.

As soon as the event was over, I took off and headed home. It was 4 hours of my life I will never get back.

Behold!

Hosanna to the highest!

For today he, Jebus, has risen.

(From two days of drunken escapades)

Yes, I know I’m going to burn in the fiery bowels of hell.

A Sequal worth watching?

Click to enlarge

At no point did I ever think to myself, “Hey, I want to go see that Brokeback movie�. However, after seeing this poster I’m thinking of possibly going to see the sequal. I can just picture it now. Jessica Alba and Halle Berry out in the woods, rubbing each other down with sunscreen. One thing leads to another, the next thing you know they are tongue wrestling. Flash to a seen where Eva Longoria is bathing in a lake, Sara Foster comes up and helps her wash her back, her hands drift below the surface of the water. Eva glances over her shoulder, a coy smirk on her face. Sara starts to…

…sorry I got a little carried away there. You get the idea. I think I’m going to go wake my wife up now for some, uh… back washing.

When "I quit" just won't work.

This was sent to me as the “Best Resignation letter on the web.� This is yet another case of my possibly promoting an urban legend. Either way it’s pretty amusing.

I just hope it's not gay.

About 4 months ago I promised a couple of friends of mine I would attend a party they where having this weekend. At the time I didn’t think anything about it. Ever since then, like women, they kept asking me, “You’re still coming to the party, right?� When they asked I would assure them, “Yes, I said I was going to be there, I’ll be there!� Then about a month ago it is brought to my attention, this isn’t just a regular party. No, this is a Wrestlemania party.

People, of all the things that I am, a “raselin’� fan I am not. Since then I’ve tried just about everything to get out of going to this stupid party. Including saying, “Yeah, you know I really don’t like `raselin’, so there isn’t any reason for me to go.� They, however, keep saying I should go just to socialize. I’m thinking I could socialize much better at a local strip club then during Wrestlemania.

This whole thing kind of vexes me. I’m used to people NOT wanting me around, not trying to get me to go do something. Oh well, I gave them my word, so on Sunday I’m going to go watch a bunch of sweaty men grapple with each other. (I can’t believe I just typed that.) Before I go, I’m heading out to the local black powder range and doing some shooting. It’s been too long since I’ve shot black powder and my season is starting. Plus maybe if I show up smelling like the bowels of hell (Burnt black powder smells like sulfur and arse), they might let me get out of there early.

Now that is awkward

Friday night I went out with some people from work. One of my friends is leaving the company and moving to Arizona. He’s been with the company for three years and started off in the other office, about 6 months ago he transferred to our office. He’s a bit of a social butterfly, unlike shy ol’ me, so there where a lot of people there to wish him well.

Many of these people were not from my current unit, so I didn’t know who they where. After a while, I forced myself to stop being such a wall flower and try to talk to some of the people I didn’t know. When I saw a table that had a group that I didn’t know sitting at it, I walked up. Taking a seat, I waited until they finished their conversation to introduce myself. I’m thinking I should have been a little more aggressive to save the following situation from happening.

Worker A: I’m not sure who he is, do you?

Worker B: I’ve never met him; I’m not sure who he is either. Do you know anything about him?

Worker C: Not at all, he’s from the other office.

(At this point I’m getting ready to interrupt, introduce myself and inquire who they where talking about.)

Worker A: All I know is that he got the promotion. I heard he is an asshole.

(Only two people received a promotion at work in the last couple of weeks, and only one of them was male, me.)

Contagion: I don’t know, I always thought I was a pretty nice guy. Hi, I’m (Contagion).

The looks on their faces was classic. I sat and talked with them for a little bit and even bought them a drink. We laughed about the whole thing. There is a chance that one of them may end up reporting to me next week. To me it would be better that they feel comfortable with me, then to be worried about some kind of imagined repercussion for an incident of gossiping outside of the work place. That’s just not something I do, nor do I want them thinking that way of me. As far as I’m concerned, what happens outside of work can not be punished at work. In fact that is the corporate policy.

Personally, I’d never risk it. You never know what is going to happen and who is going to try to get you in trouble for an imagined slight after hours at the local bar.

Morally reprehensible

I have seen some wild schemes before, but Dr. Phat Tony bought a goat, named her Jill, and if he doesn’t earn $16,000.00 off of her before March 15, 2007 he’s going to kill and eat her. He has even come up with a “Save Jill� t-shirt you can buy. $2.00 of each purchase goes toward saving Jill’s life. At first I thought he was just joking, but I’m starting to take him serious.

Hey, I’m all for trying to raise money any way you want. But I find this absolutely appalling. What he’s doing is a travesty and should be stopped. He has to think about how this is going to affect his family. Thus I refuse to donate any money to the preservation of Jill.

I mean c’mon if your going to kill and eat a goat, don’t wait a year. It gets too stringy. Personally I think he should let it age about two more months and then eat it. It should still be really tender and have a great taste. Hell, if he wants I’m sure I can get Wes to give him the recipe for his Scottish Goat Chili! Everything is better with goat!

Let's face it folks, that delicious walking roast is not going to raise that kind of money in a year, why let the meat go bad?

Update: It seems that JimmyB, the Conservative UAW Guy, has even gotten into trying to ruin to meat!

My Valentine gift.

Well, well, well, I actually had some fun handing out flowers. Now, before you all go thinking, “Hey, Contagion has a soft side.� Let me set you straight, there is no soft spot here.

It all started at 11:00 this morning. The employees could go into the break room and for a $1.00 buy a carnation for someone else. Then some poor sap would deliver the flower to the recipient. Yes, that poor sap was I. Come to find out; this whole thing was a fundraiser for some charity. AKA, my company was bilking the employees for free advertising. You don’t believe me? Let me explain it to you.

When companies, especially large companies like what I work for, do fund raisers for charities it is so they can get their names in the papers. When that charity goes to various places they can list the XYZ Company as a benefactor. Since most of these companies either match their employees’ donation dollar for dollar or set a flat fee, they end up paying in most cases not more then 50% of the donation. Basically the employees foot the bill to spread the company name. Trust me, I’ve sat in on the committees for these drives.

Anyway, I’m way off topic here. Sorry about that, just a little side rant. At first delivering these flowers was annoying. I didn’t know who 90% of the employees where nor where they sat, so it took me forever to deliver them at first. But after the first 30 minutes it started picking up, and I actually started enjoying myself.

I work with mainly females, I believe it’s about 90-95% female environment. When I would start to walk down the rows the females would look on in hope and anticipation. Their faces read, “Mr. Contagion, please stop here. Give me a flower. Confirm that people like me, give me some hope that I’m not an unwanted loser.� Then as I passed them by, as was more likely to happen, the look of rejection was priceless.

Their sagging heads and slumped posture just screamed out, “Nobody loves me, I have no friends. There isn’t even anyone that likes me enough to pretend.� Upon noticing this the first time, I started watching for it. Sure enough every row, every isle, every flower I delivered there was at least one person that would get the look of rejection! There were a handful of women that did the same thing every time I passed. Each time getting more and more dejected, at one point I thought one of them would implode from the stress.

Then to make things even better, whoever planned this did a horrible job. They only bought 400 flowers to sell. We have almost 700 people in our office. Some people where buying flowers by the dozen and giving them to one person. One girl I probably delivered close to 20 flowers to in the course of an hour. We had completely sold out by 11:45 AM and the sale was supposed to go on until 2:00 PM.

People who waited to buy flowers never got a chance. Some of those rejected individuals may actually have had a chance of getting a flower if there were enough to go around. When I noticed that we were starting to run out, I quickly bought a flower for Ktreva (Remember we work together) and delivered it to her. She didn’t need that unloved feeling. As a bonus it denied someone else a flower!

All in all it was actually fun. I may even do it again next year.

Not so funny anymore.

By now you all know that I have a tiny, little mean streak with my sense of humor. Sometimes I like to play pranks that could be considered unfriendly. I.e. the mouse and monitor incidents. Today over a Tammi’s World, I read her post about people being cruel thinking it’s funny. Personally, I think these people are going way too far. That is saying a lot coming from me. After reading Tammi’s heartfelt post I started feeling a bit of an arse myself, because it hit close to home.

At work, all my peers are doing this “Biggest Loser� competition. They are all trying to see who can lose the most weight over the next three months. All of them are female, and not a one of them is by any shape or form fat or even what I would consider overweight. If one of them is overweight, it can’t be by more then a few pounds.

They started this at the beginning of January. It’s been a month and they are all comparing to see where they where at and what methods they are using. Now insert the big arse factor. It’s been a month with no chocolate for them, and they are all chocolate fanatics. What do I do? Yes, I bought a couple of bags of candy, Reese’s peanut butter cups and Hershey kisses. I put it in a tin that I use to distribute candy and left it on the edge of my desk. It’s not uncommon for me to put candy out for people, I do it when my inventory looks good or when the minions do something exceptional. This time it was different.

My desk is right by the two most used conference rooms in the building. With all the meetings we have, my peers have to walk past my desk at least 3 times a day. They also have to come over when they want something from me or another peer that sits in the next cubicle. If they want to see the manager, they walk right past me. After a month of depriving themselves of chocolate, the pull is too great for them. They have been snagging pieces every time they walk by. I’ve gone through all of my candy.

I was going to buy more to keep it up, but I’m not thinking it’s so funny anymore.

Everything you say can and will be used against you.

I’ve discovered the truth of what has happened to Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks. It appears that the Frizzen Spouse © has gone and made her own blog. So we welcome Maranda of Maranda Under Stress. As I have recently discovered, having to bloggers under one roof with one computer seriously cuts back on your blogging time.

Now in a little about her post she states that I called her Maranda as I thought it was her name. That isn’t correct. When I first met her I was gung-ho about going into Law Enforcement. So I started calling her Miranda as in Miranda Rights. (MIRANDA v. ARIZONA, 384 U.S. 436 (1966), You know: “You have the right to remain silent…�)

Now to be honest I did think that her name was Maranda, but that’s not why I called her that. I was just hoping she'd excercise her right. ;)

Wife Baiting?

In the post that Sarah of That’s Not Very Nice wrote welcoming Ktreva to the Blogosphere, I left the comment telling her to “Stop wife baiting�. She bugged me to tell her what wife baiting was. Since I am a surly arsehole I refused to tell her. She took it upon herself to try to figure out what it was and tried on three different posts to continue the wife baiting. Unfortunately she didn’t have it right.

Most of us know what a Troll is. Those nasty commenters that come to a blog for no other reason than to leave nasty and snarky comments trying to get a response from the blogger and their regular commenters.

Troll baiting is when you post something or make a comment that the whole purpose is to get a response from a Troll.

Wife Baiting, which is much duller than it sounds, is when someone does something to encourage a wife to continue doing something to the husbands chagrin.

Sarah had encouraged Ktreva to continue blogging, thus giving me less computer time. She was wife baiting. Unfortunately she took it to mean that Wife Baiting is when you do something to get the husband in trouble. Why would I care about that? I get myself in plenty of trouble on my own, why do you think I have to keep buying Ktreva jewelry.

Sarah, upset at her valiant attempts being flushed down the drain, finally resulted in the most loathsome of all activities. She posted a comment on her own blog under the guise of it coming from me. For shame Sarah, for shame…

I do have to be honest; it was fun egging her on. Especially when she was getting frustrated. I feel sorry for the next blogger she decides to be “not very nice� with.

I'm also starting to wonder if she doesn't have an unhealthy obsession with me. ;)

Arise from your grave!

It looks like Graumagus of Miasmatic Review Annex Frizzen Sparks finally decided to get off his lazy arse and update my other his blog. Since he’s gone and proven he’s not dead, the judge ruled that I had to return the property.

Go over, welcome the guy back to the land of the living, oh, and watch out for trolls. Apparently, they multiplied while he was away.

Searches gone wrong.

I feel sorry for the poor schmuck that found me while searching for Sensitivity Class. Anyone want to bet that I wasn’t what that person was looking for?

C’mon, that’s just funny!

OOOohhh, it's a bigger secret.

I know something you don't know, I know something you don't know. I know something you don't know.

...and I'm not telling!

Secret

I have a secret, and I'm not telling!

Another stump in the tree.

Well it looks like my blog Momma-sis can’t keep her hands off of my blog Dad-pa. I guess she decided I needed another blog sibling besides my Nie-sters VW and Sissy. Instead of actually letting the family tree fork, she decided to jump in the blogging sack with Harvey the wonder blogger again.

Let me welcome the next Genetic freak to the family, Blue Tige of, well, ummm… Blue Tige!.

He’s a military man, has a fetish for photos of military aircraft and blue tinted tigers. I think that has something to do with his handle and maybe even call sign.

Head over and say hello to the newest person to bump me down a notch my momma-sis’ importance list. Like I needed someone else for her to like more!

Lurking.

Multiple bloggers I read are touting the fact that it is National De-Lurking Week. Maybe it’s just me, but I find this annoying. I am probably one of the worst lurkers on the face of the earth. My standard operating procedure when I find a new blog is to read it for two to three months before I leave my first comment. Then I tend to lurk a while longer before I leave a second comment, and finally once I get comfortable, I will leave my comments all over your blog.

Since my sense of humor is a little off kilter, I like to get a feel for the author before I comment. All that lurking makes me more familiar with the blogger, thus I can better gage if they will appreciate my sense of humor or if it truly will be a comment bomb. (Comment Bomb: The blogging equivalent to having your dog leave a mess in your neighbor’s yard).

I read Harvey for 4 months before I left my first comment there. Tammi for five months, T1G for three months, Eric for 4 months, CalTechGirl for six months, Blackfive for just over a year now and counting. You get the idea; it can take me a long time to comment. Occasionally I violate that rule, IE if I meet someone or if I’m leaving a reciprocal comment, but in general I am a lurker.

He's dead.

Tomorrow I have to go to court. These will not be pleasant proceedings, not pleasant at all. For tomorrow, I will have to go to court over a death. It’s not the death of a family member, but of a close personal friend. A friend that I’ve known for years. Some of you know this friend and will be shocked to learn this. I guess its better coming from me then some stranger or by a surprise.

Tomorrow I’m having Graumagus legally declared dead.

Sure technically he may have a beating heart in his chest and what passes for a functioning brain in his head, but he’s no longer around. In addition, if I have him declared dead it will help another case of mine.

Under salvage laws, I’m trying to claim Frizzen Sparks as my own. He’s abandoned it since December 18, which is over 3 weeks ago, 22 days at this time to be precise. That means it is abandoned and the previous owner doesn’t want it anymore. Thus, I should be able to have it legally transferred to my name. Now, since Grau has been gone for over 3 weeks with nary a word or comment, which should be grounds to have him declared dead. Isn’t it blogging death to not post for more then two weeks? I believe so.

T-minus 2 days and counting.

Just a reminder to everyone that this weekend is Fritz Fest in good ol’ Stillman Valley, Illinois. T1G has been good enough to give directions on how to get there, even if you are coming from Galena, IL. It took some quick thinking on my behalf to get them, and one very unpleasant task that involved shards of glass and a certain orifice of T1G's. Hey, he asked for it! Harvey was even nice enough to provide the address for those of us that like to know exactly where we are going.

For those of you that don’t already know, this is the list of people that are going to be there:

Get over it.

Some people are just way too sensitive. How sensitive, how about this? We have a guy that is offended at the Bucs/Saints game. What offended him? I’ll give you a hint; it was part of the half time show. Still don’t know? It involves cheerleaders? Are you guessing costuming?

RRRRNNNNNNTTTTT!!!!! WRONG!

It’s not the costuming; it was the song that offended this man.

Bob Corry, Offended By Song: "The first song that I hear is 'Rock You Like a Hurricane' by The Scorpions and I thought to myself, 'Is it me, or is this just totally out of place and inappropriate?'"

During the halftime show, the Tampa Bay Buccaneer’s Cheerleaders (Yes gratuitous hotty link) did a routine to “Rock You Like a Hurricane� by The Scorpions. Why was this offensive? Duh, people, the Bucs were playing the New Orleans Saints. You know, New Orleans, they had that incident back in late August. You may have heard once or twice about it, Hurricane Katrina.

I’ve only been to a couple of hundred profession, semi-pro and college sporting events in my lifetime. Yet, I seem to have the impression that this is a fairly common song to be played. I’m not thinking any malice aforethought was meant. To me, this was just a common dance routine song. Hell, you may not like the song, but you have to admit that it does have a catchy beat for the cheerleaders to dance to.

Also, I know that Katrina didn’t devastate Tampa, but unless I’m mistaken and you Floridians can correct me, Tampa Bay has been affected by numerous hurricanes over the years. Okay, it wasn’t almost scoured off the face of the earth like God was using water vaporous Brillo pad to remove some caked on filth, but still it’s not like it’s hurricane immune.

If the Buc’s cheerleaders had intentionally based their routine around that song just to rub in the fact that the Saints lost their home to Katrina, fine. If they didn’t this guy has no basis to be offended. That would be like those of us being offended in the Midwest by some network showing Twister. That just doesn’t make sense to me.

Ya know what? Screw it, I’m going to be offended that this guy is offended.

New Year, New Friends.

The New Year is here, and I’ve seen everyone making resolutions. The only New Years resolution I’ve ever lived up to was one I made 6 years ago. I resolved to never make any more New Years resolutions. Over the last six years, I haven’t made a resolution.

However, I do occasionally decide I need to make changes in my life, and the New Year seems to be a good time to do it. With some of the troubles I’ve had over the last year, I decided that it’s time for me to do something about it. Starting today I’ve been weeding out the “friends� I no longer want to associate with. The ones that have been either causing me problems, the ones that irritate me, or the ones that I’ve just decided I don’t want anything to do with anymore.

Yes, it’s kind of assholish, okay it’s very assholish, but I’m doing it for my own selfish reasons. These are people that have done nothing but given me grief, pissed me off, or just plain make me want to re-shape a frying pan over their heads. Technically I started doing this back in December, but I’m putting it into overdrive today. Some might want explanations, which I’m not about to give. I’ll just spout off my standard, “I’m making changes, and getting rid of the people I don’t want in my life anymore� when asked.

You might remember I was lamenting over whether or not Ktreva and I had a New Years party. Well we decided we were going to, and just not invite those people we don’t want to the party. Some people we did want to attend weren’t invited just to not put them in the middle of a bad situation, like a couple of my re-enacting friends. I feel bad for those friends as, I personally felt like I did wrong by them. When I get a chance to talk to them, I’ll explain.

When we sent out our invites, we included a slip of paper that stated not everyone who was invited in the past was going to be invited this time. We also included on there that if they decided not to attend because of this, we fully understood. We did have some guests that opted not to come so they weren’t in the middle of the unpleasantness.

The party went off with out a hitch, which was great. We invited some new friends of ours to join us. Harvey and TEE-n-t. At one point I found out a guest of mine wasn’t going to come because she had told me she wasn’t going to make it and her plans changed at the last minute. Normally I’m shy, but when I’ve been drinking I had no problem calling (yes, dear readers I actually used a phone) and telling her she had to come or I would come and get her. When Tammi finally showed up it was nice to have her. She always brightens up a party.

Our party was much smaller this year then it was in years past, but that was kind of nice. We weren’t as crowded and it was nice to be able to spend more time with each guest. Of course I did maintain my party tradition of being slightly inebriated before the guests started arriving. Harvey helped me drink down a bottle of Glenmorangie 12 year Port Wood Finish single malt Scotch. Not as good as their 18 year, but still a damn fine Scotch. TEE-n-t kept giving me crap because I couldn’t pronounce her name properly. I had one crasher at the party, but since he I was about to legally declare him dead, I felt it was okay. It wasn’t that he wasn’t invited; it was just that he didn’t RSVP.
I’d like to think that everyone that was showed up had a good time. I know that Ktreva, Boopie, Clone and Myself did.

Doubt me will you?

In my Christmas dinner post I made the statement, “For those of you reading this worried about the effects of alcohol on the children, remember alcohol cooks out during the baking process. There was a minimal alcohol content left when it was finished.� In the comments, Harvey of Bad Example linked to a Kitchen Myths site that had the following information (Also found on numerous other sites.):

Alcohol added to boiling liquid removed from heat retained 85% of alcohol
Alcohol Flamed retained 75% alcohol
Alcohol stored overnight, no heat, retained 70% of alcohol
Alcohol baked, 25 minutes, not stirred into mixture retained 45% alcohol.
Alcohol baked/simmered, stirred into mixture retains:
15 minutes cooking time: 40% alcohol
30 minutes cooking time: 35% alcohol
1 hour cooking time: 25% alcohol
1.5 hours cooking time: 20% alcohol
2 hours cooking time: 10% alcohol
2.5 hours cooking time: 5% alcohol

Most of the sites I found that have this information state it comes from the US Department of Agriculture Nutrient Data Laboratory. Spending way too much time searching through the USDA Nutrient Data Laboratory website I was unable to locate any such study they have done nor documentation that coincides with this data. I’ve gone so far as to send them an e-mail to verify if the data is accurate. According to them, I should get a response in 5 business days. With the holiday, that should make it January 10th at the latest I should get a response. Until then, I’m going to just assume that the data given is accurate within acceptable levels of deviation.

Based on said data lets review how my statement stands up. Since the alcohol used in the whiskey sauce was stirred into a mixture (the Sauce, not the pudding itself), I’m going to use the data for “Alcohol baked/simmered, stirred into mixture� table. This is a completely unscientific study, so my results will be off.

First we used standard bourbon, at 80 proof or 40% alcohol by volume. When you are heating the original sauce it is simmered/boiled for 15 minutes. Now, this is not adding it to a boiling liquid then removing it from the heat, this is a mixture that is heated/simmered. It takes about 15 minutes simmering time. It is then poured over the bread pudding and baked for about it is baked for 45 minutes. Just for ease of this calculation I’m going to use the 1-hour baking/simmering time of 25% alcohol retention.

25% of 40% alcohol leaves 10% alcohol per volume.

My wife used 4 tablespoons of bourbon. Four tablespoons equal two fluid ounces. There are 1.5 ounces in your standard shot of alcohol. Thus there is a one and a third shot of alcohol in the recipe. The recipe makes six servings. That means there is two-ninths of a shot per serving.

Since we’ve already cooked down the alcohol to 10% alcohol per volume. That means that per serving there would be a trace amount of alcohol.

Thus I stick by my original statement: There was a minimal alcohol content left when it was finished.

It's time.

My grandmother is in the hospital again. The difference is that this time she is not going to be coming home. If she is released, my mother and aunt are taking my advice from the last time she was hospitalized and going to put her into a managed care facility, ie Nursing home.

My grandmother should have been put into one years ago. She’s been failing in health for a long time now. She has diabetes and other medical issues that cause her chronic pain. A year and a half ago she sold her home and moved in with my aunt because she couldn’t live on her own anymore due to chronic health issues. She refused to take care of her self, follow doctor’s orders and do her therapies. She continued to get worse. My mother and aunt felt it that if grandma were living with my aunt, she would have better supervision and take care of herself.

They where wrong. She would buy candy and hide it in the house, when my aunt was gone, she would eat it, thus not taking care of her diabetes. She still didn’t follow doctor’s orders and refused to do her therapies when my aunt asked her to. She just continued to get worse and worse. She can hardly walk, she can barely bend her knees and she has a form of Parkinson’s disease that is has almost completely taken over her ability to do anything on her own. The sad thing is that if she had just followed doctor’s orders years ago they know she wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as she is now.

When she was brought into the hospital a couple of days ago, over an infection she has that if she had followed doctor’s order she wouldn’t have had, it was finally determined that she can not go back to my aunts. My aunt just cannot be there all day every day to take care of her, as she needs. My grandma is not happy with this decision. She keeps telling my mother and aunt that she feels she can go home. Fortunately, my mother and aunt disagree with her.

I called and talked to my grandma the other night, I can’t visit because she is in the infectious disease ward and I don’t dare expose my kids to nasty bugs floating around up there. When I spoke with my grandma, she sounded like she had a stroke. My mother, aunt and the hospital staff convinced me that she hadn’t it’s just the medication, pain, infection and Parkinson’s effecting her speech. This is not the woman I remember fondly from my childhood. I hate seeing her this way, and I don’t like hearing about her this way.

We know she won’t get better. She may live for many more years, or she may be dead as I write this. I’ve never had any illusions that I’m a good person, but how bad does it make me that I’m hoping and wishing for the later?

The T-shirt is MINE!

I WON, I WON, I WON! I know you all find that hard to believe after the insanity of this post, it’s as if I hardly tried. Dr. Phat Tony will be sending my shirt to me. Since I hardly if ever win anything, I’m stoked! I mean, the only thing better then blogger wear, is free blogger wear.

DPT’s official announcement has a screen shot of the ecosystem showing my 279 links. That’s right, two hundred, seventy-nine links. Yes, yes, yes… I know I have issues. Sure, it took 2.5 hours of my life to make that post, but it was worth it. Oh yes it was worth it!

I would like to take this time to acknowledge my lead rival and competitor for the t-shirt. Pandy of What Panda. She put up a good fight, and was a worthy opponent. I honestly feel that if she had been distracted, she could have easily won this competition. My hat is off to you dear Pandy for the valiant effort, my utmost respect.

Still gunning for that t-shirt.

See new posts below

Okay, I really want to win this T-shirt from Dr. Phat Tony. Pandy over at What Panda is really giving me a run for my money, thus I’m going to have to do something really drastic. This is going to be time consuming, annoying and just a general pain in the arse, but I don’t know what else to do at this point. From some of the e-mails I’ve received I know that some of you are getting tired of seeing these posts, but I’m doing what I feel I have to do in order to win. This contest only runs until Christmas day now. However, I thought it ran all the way to New Years. But since I don’t make the rules, I only have to follow them, I’m trying everything in my power to win. Yes, this post is probably really annoying, and if you want to skip it. I wouldn’t blame you, but it’s what I need to do. Loyal readers, please forgive me as I am in desperation mode and I’m just trying to win something. Some of you may understand, some of you may not. But by the time I’m done I’m hoping that this post should push me over the edge and show just exactly what level of desperation I am at. Thus, causing others that are trying to play to give up. If I need I will make a post like this daily until the contest is over and I am declared a winner. . Sure it is a lot of work, but to me it's all worth the effort. If you really want something you need to work for it. Nothing is free, contrary to what some people would like to believe. Right now I am just willing to bet that Dr. Phat Tony is real happy he does not have auto trackbacks set up through haloscan. Other ways his e-mail would be over loaded with all the pings from this post. Yes, that is a link to every post he's made to date, no you really don't want to know how long it took me to do this.

Thank you for your consideration. This post will stay on top until the contest is over, see new below.

RSVP ASAP

One of my minions had a Christmas party last weekend. Since I was unable to attend, she was filling me in on the details. She had invited some friends of hers both from work and outside of work. From what she was telling me it sounded like everyone was having a good time.

Then she went on to tell me she ran into a problem later in the night. She had run out of food and beverages for everyone. When she sent out her invitations, she asked people to RSVP to let her know if the invitee was coming and if they were bringing a date. If no one got back to her, she marked them down as not coming. She wasn’t expecting everyone she invited to show up, so when some people didn’t respond she was not surprised.

What surprised her was when the party started people where showing up that did not RSVP. She also had people that showed up that brought a date and didn’t indicate they where bringing anyone else. Five extra guests she had not planned on showed up for her party. Five doesn’t sound like many people, but it is when you are planning a party to ensure there is enough food and drinks for everyone. You have to think five people are an entire family! In this case, four separate invites didn’t RSVP or didn’t put down the correct number of attendees.

It doesn’t surprise me. Any more people don’t have common courtesy to others, so why should they take 5 minutes to call and say yes or no I’m not coming. Personally, I know how frustrating this can be. I can’t remember the last time I held a party and had an accurate count of people that where going to attend. My favorite excuse is when someone says, “Well you should have known I was going to come.� If I had known you where going to come I wouldn’t ask you to RSVP! How do I know if you didn’t make other plans? Maybe you’re bringing a date, or maybe you just don’t want to come. That would be like my throwing a party and saying, “You should have known you were invited� instead of sending out invitations.

Some people are in the belief they should call and double check with each possible guest if they are coming. Personally, I’m not a babysitter. If I throw a party, the guests are all adults. My checking with them is the invite. If I’m going to call these people to see if they are going to come, why even bother sending an invite? Why not just call them and say, “Sup, homey! Yo, check it out. I’m throwing a banging bash at my crib. You in dog?� Well, maybe not exactly like that, but you get my drift.

When I was younger, I used to be inconsiderate like that. I wouldn’t RSVP and just show up. That all changed when I was a junior in college and we threw a party for a bunch of our friends. Only a handful of people said they were going to be there so we only bought two kegs. Nothing is more annoying then making a beer run mid party when you have a good buzz going. Ever since then I’ve been very good about it.

It’s just common courtesy people. Whenever I get an invite somewhere and there is an RSVP, I’ll contact the host and let them know whether or not I’m making it. That way there is no doubt in their mind. So if your are going to the blogmeet and haven’t said anything yet, get off your butt and do it now! :)

Do not call the police.

I have in my possession an object of sentimental and artistic value to someone else. Since this person just carelessly discarded said item under the seat of my truck, I feel I should teach them a little lesson. Therefore, I am holding ransom this stained glass picture of a sail boat. See the picture below.

If this person wants to get this priceless piece of art back, then need to follow my directions carefully.

1) Find four pennies. One from 1971, one from 1973, one from 1993 and one from 2003. Place a picture of all pennies on the Internet.

2) Find a set of busy railroad tracks. Place all pennies exactly 1 foot 3.25 inches apart along one of the rails. Again place a picture including measurements on the Internet.

3) After a train has flattened all four pennies, take a picture of the pennies and place on the Internet.

4) Place the pennies in a safe location where they will not be lost.

5) Find a ball, any type of ball; I don’t care if it’s a football, a baseball or a ping-pong ball. Take the ball to a local public establishment. Bar, Store, mall, again I don’t care.

6) Get three people to have their picture taken with the ball autographing/initialing it. I don’t care if you know the people or if they are complete strangers.

7) Place pictures of the individuals autographing/initialing on the Internet. You can hide their faces for their protection.

8) Place the ball with the pennies.

9) Make a sign that says, “I have an unhealthy addiction to candles.� Have someone take your picture standing along a busy roadway holding the sign and place picture on the Internet.

10) Have someone take a picture of you holding the pennies, the ball and the sign and place the picture on the Internet.

11) When this is done we will set up a location where we will exchange your property for the pennies, ball and sign.

These are my demands; they are not negotiable. If you fail to follow any of my directions to my satisfaction, I will be forced to do something drastic. You don’t want me to do something drastic do you?

I’m a man on the edge; don’t make me do something I don’t want to do!

Desperation.

Okay I still want to win that T-shirt from Dr. Phat Tony. Apparently my underhanded attempt to pilfer links didn’t work. Thus I’m trying something a little different. We all know he is trying to get the number one Google hit for History of Thanksgiving, History of Discovery of America, How to Join the Canadian Army and Girls Gone Wild. Apparently he’s already number one for Humpback Midget. On a side note, because of this I’m turning up as number three for Humpback Midget… I’m thinking he intended this to be a side effect.

What am I going to do? If I thought it would help, I’d walk around here with my dick hanging out, not that I’m making any campaign promises! It’s Phat Tony’s contest and his rules I’m trying to follow. I’m not trying to make any new ones up, and even though he’s a helpful guy and likes to answer questions. Sometimes those answers come with a price and require people to do things… unusual.

He’s very passionate about various topics, especially home remodeling. Sure, sometimes a sense of humor is lost on him. But this time of year he can be very sentimental.

The poor guy has issues dealing with his family's past. However he always has an open post for a blogless friend. Also he is always readily available with advice and stories to learn from.

Hopefully this helps me out.

I'm going to get that T-shirt!

As many of you know I’ve been trying to win a t-shirt from Dr. Phat Tony. I’m going all out, and I thought I was doing pretty damn good until I saw this post over at What Panda.

"Good ol' Phatty is a wacky fellow, and he likes getting votes! Being a big campaign supporter of his, I've decided to try my hand at helping his most recent campaign. I think he's getting a bit lazy- he sure asks for help a lot. He still answers our questions, though. Okay. I'm sorry. Someone like Phat Tony needs all the help he can get, he gives so much to the blogging community.

He educates us, with famous postings like The Discovery of America and The History of Thanksgiving.

His unfailing patriotism is also an admirable trait. "Join the Canadian Army!", he tells us, but we know it's because he doesn't want any more touchy-feelyness in our Army. Plus he doesn't pass up any chance to slam the French.

When people ask me who Phat Tony is and why I am voting for him, I tell them-Phat Tony is a national treasure."

DAMMIT! There where more links in that then in my entire posts. What am I going to do? I’m not that talented, maybe I should think of something underhanded and sneaky… (Evil Grin)

That's one way to skin a pussy.

Do you hate cats? Have you not found a sport you felt you could really enjoy? Then I have a surprise for you. Wisconsin Divorced Men’s Club Organizes First Ever Cat-Olympics. From the state that originally legalized feral cat hunting, we have an organized event all men can enjoy.

Divorced dad Elvis Weems elaborates:

"Well, they wouldn't let us hunt cats like we wanted, so we did the next best thing. We have over a dozen events planned this August in Oshkosh, including the tabby-hammer toss, cat fishing, cat-put, cat-a-pult and kitty-discus, to name a few! Should be exciting. We can get our rocks off in spite of the fact we can't hunt cats, so this is the next best thing!"

This comes from Oshkosh, Wisconsin, that isn’t too far from my house; I may have to enter my wife’s cat, Gertrude! I’m kidding, hun, I’m kidding. Well…

MeMe's Answered

It looks like we have some answers to my earlier meme’s

See the responses for Dr. Phat Tony, Bouddica, Barb and Wes.

ChemicalNova hasn’t had time to post them yet, I think he’s trying to tell us all something.

Oh, and before I get, time to google bomb Dr. Phat Tony again... Can you tell I really want that t-shirt? So now I'll send another link his way for all this stuff: History of Thanksgiving, History of Discovery of America, How to Join the Canadian Army and Girls Gone Wild. Apparently he’s already number one for Humpback Midget.

Someone called for the Doctor?

Okay, one of my regular reads, and occasional commenter, Dr. Phat Tony is having a contest. What he’s a doctor of I don’t know. I’d say possibly history with his History of Thanksgiving, but I know others that have covered that topic that aren’t doctors. But then he gets into the History of the Discovery of America. Now, being the re-enactor that I am, and the nitpicker of historical accuracy, I can pick out some problems here. Thus, I’m sure he does not have a doctorate in History.

Taking a further look I decided that maybe he has a Doctorate in Public Relations, he tried to help people on How to Join the Canadian Army. He even tried to help American relations in the Middle East with his Girls Gone Wild take off, Muslims Gone Wild. However it seems both seemed to have backfired in the their respective countries.

Then I figured it out. He’s not a doctor; he just uses the title to pick up humpback midgets.

Well anyway, his contest is basically him link-whoring himself out and if a person does well enough you get one of his t-shirts. I was going to buy one, but now I’m going to see if I can win it!

Oh, and he wants to be the number one hit for History of Thanksgiving, History of Discovery of America, How to Join the Canadian Army and Girls Gone Wild. Apparently he’s already number one for Humpback Midget, but it helped with the story above.

I wonder where this puts me in the ranks.

When will this go away.

Every year my wife and I have a New Year’s Eve party. It’s been something we’ve enjoyed hosting for years, and we have fun. We get to end the old year and start the new year with friends. For 6 years now, we’ve invited pretty much the same friends every year. This year we are debating on even having the party.

I have “friends� I don’t want to hang around with anymore, so I don’t want to invite them. The problem is that we have mutual friends whom I’d like to invite to my house. I don’t want to put my friends in the middle of a situation that doesn’t involve them. In addition, I don’t want to stir up trouble with the people I no longer want to associate.

Then there are some new friends I’ve met/made that I would like to invite. I know I would enjoy their company more then my old “friends�. We just don’t have the room to have everyone over in our house. So obviously, someone would have to get cut from the list. Of course I’m leaning toward cutting the old “friends�. Again that brings up the problem of putting mutual friends in the middle of a situation that doesn’t directly involve them.

The mutual friend issue is causing the problem. It’s why I haven’t told a couple of them that I no longer want them in my house or my life. So far, I’ve done well in trying to avoid most of the undesirables since all this began. I still have one that contacts me or comes over at least once a month. I think they are beginning to get the hint however.

What to do? Have the party and actually drag mutual friends into the fray or just cancel the party in general. I’ve already had a couple of inquiries regarding it as the invites are usually in the mail by the last week of November.

Behold the cold.

SNOW!

Right now as I look out the window it is snowing. The lovely, cold white specks of crystallized frozen water is falling from the sky. It is slowly gathering in a fine dusting on the grass, pavement and vehicles. Ice is starting to form.

The flakes are twisting and turning as they fall to the ground.

I love it when my minions slip on the ice.

Here's to you...

I abhor when people talk about others behind their backs. I’m not completely innocent of this myself, and I generally don’t like myself for a while after I’ve done it. I try my hardest to say only things about a person that I would and do say to their face. Through various experiences in my life I’ve learned that when ever you talk about someone behind their back, it always gets back to the person.

The only thing that makes it worse is when “friends� talk about other “friends� behind their backs. Is that person really your friend if you are talking about them behind their back? What if it was your friend talking about you? Those people really, truly are not your friend.

How about if you are sitting in a room and other people are talking about a mutual friend, do you join in or not? Do you tell the person what was said or do you try to forget about it? Usually, I sit there and try not to say anything or just try to ignore the conversation. (TV comes in handy at these points) After the conversation, the next time I see my friend I don’t tell them what was said. Why? Because it can be hurtful. At this point in time, I’m thinking of changing my policy. I’m thinking that as a friend I should tell that person that someone is gossiping about them. Currently I believe the person should know what kind of “friends� they have.

I’m sure most of you have figured out what the origin of this post is. You would be correct; I found out that some “friends� have been talking about me behind my back. Right now, I don’t have all the details, but enough to know that it isn’t pleasant. Now I’m torn. I’ve known these people for quite a few years and counted them as some very close friends. What they are talking about is just absolutely asinine, and in one case an incorrect interpretation of events. I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do about it, but I have some ideas.

The one I’m leaning toward is just to sever the friendships and go on with life. It’ll suck loosing some friends, but I can make more. Technically, I think I’m over my quota of the amount of friends I can socialize with anyway… I’m shy and not much of a people person anyway. :) Part of me doesn’t want to loose these friendships, but another part says this has been going on for a while and it’s not going to stop. After everything, can it ever truly be repaired, will I ever trust these people again? Many of the people I’m talking about read this blog both regularly and intermediately. If this post hits a little close to home, then it probably applies to you. The next time I see you after I decided what I'm going to do, I’ll return the knife that is sticking in my back.

All I can think of right now is one of my favorite toasts: Here’s to you, here’s to me. Friends forever we shall be. But if once we disagree, Fuck you and here’s to me.

But I’m curious, if you where in my shoes, what would you do? I’m not saying I’ll follow your advice, but I’m curious to see if maybe I’m over reacting.

Boo! DidI scare you? Muahahahaha

In the comments of my Halloween Questions post, Spurs asked me how I made a high school student piss himself. Since I’m just a minor blog, and have six daily readers, and nine regulars, I feel the need to fulfill requests when they are asked of me… depending on what they are.

I have three styles of scaring people that I prefer. The style I use most is what I call the “Creep and Leap�. This is when your “victim� knows you are there and can see you. Some people sit in chairs and pretend they are a scarecrow; I walk around trying to intimidate the mark first. You are “creeping� through the area and making them nervous. It’s easiest to read your mark using this method to see if you are getting to them at all. Once you feel the timing is right, you make your move or “Leap� at them. Some sudden movement and sound is usually enough to get them to jump, scream or both. This method tends to work best on the timid and females. Guys tend just to buck up and save face.

The next method is what I call the “Lurk and Lunge�. This is similar to the above creep and leap, except that you remain hidden (Inside a coffin, behind a door, etc), out of site so your mark has no idea that you are there. I lurk in the shadows or behind large objects like bushes and vehicles. When the person least expects it you lunge at them screaming like a madman. You can get a good scare using this tactic. The problem is that it’s hard to hand out candy AND do this.

The last method I use, which to me is the most difficult to get right, is the “Stalk and shock�. This is where after the person has turned their back on you, you just follow them, many times, they will be involved with talking to their friends or looking at what goody they were given. Then when they either turn around or you finally make a noise you can get them to jump right out of their skin. This works best if they are walking away from your house and feel “safe� from you. That is when you get the best reaction.

Now the incident at hand happened 2-3 years ago, so some of the details may be a little off.

For years, I’ve decorated my front yard as a cemetery with realistic looking tombstones, fog machines, a life size realistic skeleton hanging from a poleaxe, a realistic zombie, severed heads, arms, hands, fog machines. I have a free flowing ghost that glows and moves about in my upstairs window, death on the back porch moving in a strobe light, various skulls, rats, bats, spiders, etc. I dress up as a demon lord of the Abyss, complete with a sub-professional form-fitting mask, demon hands that elongate my fingers and shoe covers that make my feat look skeletal. Every year I receive many compliments from people on how the house and I look. If I had, any pictures turn out this year I’ll post some when I get them.

I roam around the graveyard, run the fog machine, hang out on our large front porch, hand out candy and scare the bejeebus out of people that are over the age of 10. I absolutely refuse intentionally to scare little kids; I’ll take my mask off if they do get scared.

When I’m creeping about, I always look at people’s reactions to things to see if I can get a good scare out of them. Their screams in the night is like crack to an addict. I had just finished handing out candy to some kids when I see a group of four high schoolers coming towards my house, two boys and two girls. I figured the girls would be easy marks, as generally females scare easier… but scaring a guy is much more satisfying. It was too late for me to try to hide, so I pumped up the fog machine and engulfed the yard/porch in fog. As they came up the porch the girls were acting timid, but the boys were being were being “tough� and protecting the girls.

Eh… Fine. There is the next group. After I gave them their candy, (I give candy to anyone that shows up at my door in costume, I don’t care if they are in their 50’s. If you took the time to put on a costume, then I’ll give you candy. No costume, no candy.) I looked and saw no other groups where heading my way.

What the hell, the worst that will happen is I don’t get any reaction and waste my time. As the group left, girls side by side followed by guys side by side, I silently followed them down off my porch with my Trident (Plastic tip on a hoe handle to make it life size) and a severed arm. I’m quietly stalking behind the boys down my sidewalk to the street. I hear one boy say to the other how lame my display was. At that point, I’m half a step behind them.I thrust my trident with the severed arm impaled on it right between the boys into the middle of the group. In a raspy voice I loudly hissed, “This is what happened to the last person that ridiculed my domain�.

All four jumped and screamed. However, the boy that called the display lame must have had to go to the bathroom a while as a wet spot quickly formed in his groin region. SCORE!!!!! Not only did I get a four for one, but also I actually made a guy piss himself. I pointed towards his crotch and said, “Sorry about that� as I walked back to the porch to get ready for the next kids. I could hear the other guy and the girls make fun of him and rightly so. Being scared is one thing… pissing yourself is another.

...

One, two… Contagion is coming for you.

Three, four… Better lock your door.

Five, Six… Crab your crucifix.

Seven, Eight… Better stay up late.

Nine, Ten… Never sleep again.

Happy Halloween.

Faunacide in the city.

It’s been a while since I’ve regaled you all with a tale of my cruelness to my minions, so I thought I would share a little incident that happened today… strictly for your mirth.

This morning I heard two of my thralls talking about killing a deer in order to make sausage. Of course, my interest was peeked, killing deer and eating it, how any red blooded American re-enacting male could not want to get in on this. When I asked what brought this up, since neither “J-man� or “Big-T� seem to be the hunter type, they tell me that minion “Sherby� killed a deer with her truck on the way to work. Jumping out of my chair, I exclaim, “What? A dead deer ready for the taking? Where?� Visions of a new deer hide and fresh meat for the weekend filled my head.

Plans of field dressing the deer in the parking lot were dashed when they said, someplace on Spring Creek RD. They weren’t exactly sure, but it had been a couple of hours since the incident and Spring Creek is a pretty busy road. Walking over to Sherby’s desk, I start asking her questions.

Me: “I hear you killed a deer this morning.�

Sherby: “It was an accident, it jumped out in front of me. I hit it with my Dad’s truck.�

Me: “Did you grab the deer? Did you call the police?�

Sherby: “The deer was too big for me to pick up, so I left it on the side of the road. It wasn’t an adult deer, but it was still too big for me. Why would I call the police?�

Me: “Because in Illinois if you hit a deer with your vehicle, it is the law that you contact the police, plus you’ll need the report for the insurance company. Where did you hit the deer at?� (You do have to contact the police if you hit a deer; this is true)

Sherby: “I hit it on Spring Creek down by the river. My dad only has liability, so we won’t be filing a claim with the insurance.� (She hit the deer in downtown Rockford! All the luck! By this time, the crews would have cleaned it up, it would have been flattened in traffic or the homeless would be eating better then I am tonight!)

Me: “You still want to contact the police. If you don’t they can charge you with leaving the scene of motor vehicle accident with a fatality. You don’t want the police showing up at your dad’s door to drag him away do you? You left a dead deer in downtown Rockford, where there are cameras and witnesses that can identify the vehicle.� (The police will NOT charge you with leaving the scene of a MVA with a Fatality for reducing the surplus deer population.)

Sherby (looking worried): “Killing a deer is considered a fatality?�

Me: “Of course it died. It’s like a homicide, except it’s a faunacide. Instead of dealing with a human you have an animal� As far as I know there is no such thing as a faunacide, I believe I made that word up on the spot. UPDATE: Actually googling it, there appears that someone else came up with it before me.

Sherby: “Is that bad?�

Me: “Well yea, it falls under the animal cruelty laws. It’s a felony in this state. It’s equal to clubbing kittens with a golf club� (lie, lie, lie… BTW, I just liked that analogy so I used it, there is no special law for clubbing kittens with a golf club.)

Sherby (eyes wide and teary); “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to hit the deer!�

Me: “What if that had been a kid you had hit? Would you have meant to hit the kid, probably not? Because this is a deer that makes it okay? That’s just wrong. That poor deer was out, enjoying life and trying just to survive and you go and squash its head with the front of your truck. Now the poor little deer will never be able to grow up and enjoy life. At least when a hunter kills a deer they eat it and use the carcass. Not you, no you just leave its lifeless body on the side of the road where its death is meaningless!� (Did I mention she is an animal lover? No… ahhh, now it’s funnier!)

Sherby (eyes misting over, voice shaky): “That’s not what I meant; I never meant to hurt anything. I wouldn’t hurt an animal. I don’t know what to do.�

Me: “What I would do, if I were you, is call the police. Tell them that you hit the deer and that you just now where able to get to a phone. They will tell you exactly what you need to do. You should still be in an acceptable time frame, so I don’t foresee any problems.� (This was legit advice. She did need to call them and even though it was technically a lie, since she didn’t know she had to call the police until now, this was the first chance she had to call them).

Sherby (looking better) “Thanks Mr. Contagion. I’ll do that now.�

Twenty minutes pass, I walk back over to Sherby.

Me: “Sherby, what did the police say? Are they going to charge you with Faunacide?� (Because cops charge people with crimes over the phone?)

Sherby (looking releaved) “Luckily no… I just need to go file an accident report.�

Me: “You got lucky this time!�

Later when she left to go to lunch with minion Blond-T, I asked who was driving. Minion Blond-T responded she was. This set up this parting shot:

Me: “Good now maybe more innocent deer won’t be slaughtered at the hands of the Sherby.�

I couldn’t help but laugh while Sherby gave me the evil eye and Blond-T laughed.

Flesh Eating Minions

Have you ever had a hypothetical conversation, during which you say something to hurt another person's feelings? How about if the conversation was about something that was so improbably you would only see it in movies? That is exactly what happened to me yesterday. Some of my minions from work and I went to lunch, while there we started talking about Zombie movies. This brought up the topic of what would you do if zombies started roaming the earth.

It was during this conversation that I hurt my minions’ feelings. If you are still reading at this point, I’m sure you are wondering how. As you may have been able to tell by now, I’m not a normal individual. Being a little obsessive compulsive on various things, I tend to like having emergency plans, “just in case�. My plans contain a contingency for zombies. Okay, now I won’t blame you if you stop reading me now and delete the link, but just here me out. You never know what is going to happen. All it consists of is my plan for invasion by a foreign country, ala Red Dawn. Except that I have it modified for Zombies, Space Aliens and a super disease, ala The Stand. See it’s not AS weird as you were thinking… or it’s even weirder now that you know the rest.

When I went into in-depth detail about my plan, both of my minions said that if zombies did start roaming the earth they where going to come with me. This is where the trouble begins; I told them both that I would not take either because they would be liabilities. Neither of them possess and skills and knowledge that would be useful. My plan consists of my having people with at least a general knowledge of specific topics for it to work. Neither one of them had anything that I could use. Then they asked if I would bring my wife and kids. Which I told them I would, but only because it is my wife and kids; I would however leave my parents and sister. Now they are telling me I’m cold and mean. Then finally, my minion, Big T, says to me, “Well we’ll just show up at your stronghold and pound on the gates.� This is where the hurt feelings happened.

I looked her dead in the eye and responded with, “I’d just shoot you in the head. That way you can’t rise as zombie and I don’t have to worry about providing for you.� (In most zombie movies, if you damage the brain the zombie ceases to function.) She has not stopped giving me crap about this since. Apparently just because I get along with her and my other minion Ton Loc, that I am obligated to keep them safe from zombies. My thing is that times are going to get hard and the more people you have the harder it will be to supply and take care of them. In addition, there is a greater chance for something happening and someone getting bitten; being turned into a zombie themselves. Big T then tried to justify that her husband would fit into my plan, and he might. When I told her that I’d put him into my “Maybe� pile (yes, I called it a pile. They all found this highly amusing), however that I still wouldn’t take her; she became even more upset.

Now I’m just laughing at the whole thing. C’mon people, I am so skeptical that this scenario would ever happen that I’m willing to say it will never happen. How can she be that upset over something that isn’t ever going to happen? Also does anyone else have a zombie contingency plan or is it just me?

Fun with mice.

I know that I am a disturbed individual. Things that normal people don’t think about tend to be part of my daily thought process. What I find humorous is often seen as being mean. People don’t always understand my dry and dark sense of humor. However if you are playing a prank on someone whom the rest of their office views as “the bad guy�, my warped and twisted mind is appreciated. Before I go any further, I must establish that the subject of this prank is not a “bad guy�. She is a very nice person that has a tough job, the same job I do only without the mentoring aspect. In fact she would probably make a better mentor then I do because she seems to like people and has a hard time being a real hard case when she has to be. It’s just that she has to make other people do their job and if they don’t she takes them to task for it. Thus she is viewed as a “bad guy�, much like myself.

I was mainly in Chicago for a training class, however I had a lot of extra time before class, during breaks, lunch and after class. In order to check items out and try to keep up with what everyone is doing, I would take over her computer. The first time I did this she told me that her mouse was acting up and she thought she would need a new one. She had an old roller ball style mouse and the only problem it had was many years worth of dust build up on the rollers. I very easily cleaned them off using my trusty Swiss Army Boy Scout knife. In doing so I accidentally unplugged her mouse. When I went to plug it back in I discovered that her computer is very easily accessible.

I went back to class and was sitting there after I finished the assignment. I started talking to the guy next to me. He works in our tech support area and he told me they just received a shipment of wireless optical mice and they are playing with them to see if it is something that they want to extend to the entire company. As soon as he said that a light went off in my head. I asked if there was anyway I could obtain the use of one wireless optical mouse for a day. He wanted to know why so I gave him a brief synapses of my plan. He then told me he would bring me one the next day.

Thursday morning I’m in class and he shows me the mouse, all I have to do is plug it in a USB port, restart the computer; windows and the network will do the rest. This was going to be too easy! After class I went up my mentoree’s desk and asked to use her computer. I waited for her to leave and I quickly unplugged her real mouse, plugged in the new one and restarted it. I left the cord to her mouse leading to the back of the computer so that it looked like it was plugged in. When she came back I told her I had finished checking my e-mail and that she can have her computer back. This is where the fun starts.

As she sits down, I pull the wireless mouse out of my pocket and try to mimic the way she was using hers. This gave the illusion she was controlling the pointer. I didn’t do a great job, but she was used to her mouse working like crap so she didn’t think twice about it except to complain she needs a new mouse. Finally she got mad and slammed the mouse on the desk. Now I really start to play with her mind. Whichever direction she would move the mouse; I would move the pointer in the opposite direction. If she would right click, I would left click. She is starting to get mad and is telling me her mouse is really screwed up and she knew there was something wrong with it. I’m biting my tongue to keep from snickering.

Trying to be the helpful mentor that I am, I suggested she rotate the mouse so the cord is pointing towards her. At least then she could get the mouse to go in the right direction. The poor lady actually does this. Now of course as soon as she does I keep flip my mouse around so that I can mimic her motions again, thus making it look like the mouse has corrected itself and is following the movement that coincides with her mouse. She tells me the problem seems to be fixed and flips her mouse around. I do the same thing. Now however I start clicking the button to make menus and windows open.

She is getting so mad that her mouse isn’t working and the Tech area hasn’t come to fix it all day. (Because they are in on it, in fact my partner in crime is watching from three desks back). Her minions are starting to come over to see what the problem is; they however are not in the joke so they are wondering what the hell is wrong with her mouse. All was going well until one of them noticed the red light reflecting off my pants leg and asked me what that was. My mentoree turns, looks at me, I’m grinning ear to ear. She looks at the mouse in my hand, realizes what is going on and looks like she could bite the head off a hammer. I start laughing, tears are starting to fill my eyes I’m laughing so hard. Her minions are laughing now, the tech support guys are laughing. She finally cracks a smile then starts to laugh with us.

I had her going for a good thirty minutes. She felt that since I played this joke on her and “embarrassed� her in front of her minions that I should let her keep the optical wireless mouse. After explaining that it wasn’t mine and that I borrowed it from the tech support department she relented on keeping it. She then wanted to know who my contact was because in her own words, “I’ve worked in the building for 15 years and I don’t have a contact in the tech support department, you’re here two days and you have one. That’s not fair!� Unfortunately I had to deny her request. I always keep my sources to myself; it helps to protect them if I need them for another prank later on.

It was shortly after this incident she came up with the top ten reasons my mentoree’s hate me. The rest of the time I was in Chicago, her minions would go out of the way to say hi if they saw me.

Would you be my neighbor?

I was talking to one of my minions at work about a problem she is having with her neighbors. This made me think about my neighbors. My neighbors leave me alone. They don’t come over to borrow things; they don’t send their kids over to sell me things. I used to have a neighbor that I would stand at the fence with, talk to, and drink beer with when we saw each other out at the same time. The man was a lawn care fool. He loved mowing his lawn and trimming his bushes. He always had the nicest manicured lawn in the neighborhood. He had a nice wife and two nice kids. Boopie used to play with the kids when he wasn’t in school. They decided to move to a bigger house out of the city about a year ago. I genuinely miss them. Now the only neighbors I have on the block are all scared of me.

The new next-door neighbors that moved in try to avoid making eye contact with me when they are outside. Once I tried to get the wife’s attention and I swear she shielded her eyes with her hand, quickened her step and shooed her children into the house. The husband doesn’t seem to be home too much, but when he is he generally doesn’t acknowledge me either and tries to avoid eye contact. A couple of Saturday’s ago, after dark, my wife thought she heard someone in the backyard. I went out the front door to see if I could figure out who it is. The new neighbor was sitting on his back porch and when he saw me stalking the yard, he asked what was going on. That was the first time he has said more then two words to me in 4 months.

All my other neighbors go out of their way to avoid me. They’ve all seen me swinging swords, cleaning fire arms, sharpening knives, building artillery carriages, hauling in large packages marked “WARNING: EXPLOSIVES! BLACK POWDER FOR SMALL ARMS!� teaching my kid the most appropriate and easy way to kill a person with a toy sword. I received the best reaction when I told Boopie once, “If you hit a person in the femoral artery they will die quickly, however if you make a nice deep belly wound they will die a slow painful death. If you are lucky, any allies or friends they have nearby will try to help save his life. Now you have effectively taken 2-3 people out of the battle. However, you could also kill the people giving aid when their backs are turned.� I didn’t realize one of my other neighbors was outside watering plants with her kids and they had heard it. Shortly after, they moved out as well. Go figure.

There is an upside to being the scary guy in the neighborhood. Nobody messes with my house or property. There was a string of minor burglaries in my neighborhood. My house and the neighbor that I liked were the only houses not hit. I think the entire neighborhood warns anyone new that moves in about me. I do know that they refer to me as “The Scary Guy�. One day I was out in my back yard scrubbing and swabbing out my musket when this family goes walking by on the sidewalk. I hear the little girl ask, “Mommy, look its The Scary Guy, the one Mr. Brown told you about.� The mother and father hurried their daughter along; I just sat back and grinned. In addition, another time one of the neighborhood kids came up and asked me if I was “The Scary guy� I couldn’t help but to assure him that I was with my patented child scowl.

I also don’t have the problems with my neighbors that I hear other people talk of. They don’t complain to me about the stuff I do. No one comes over to borrow anything. They don’t pop in at odd hours. Their kids stay out of my yard and more importantly they don’t use my cooler as a urinal. I’m not asked favors. It’s a symbiotic relationship. I scare the bad elements away and they leave me alone. In general, life is good for me.

I must have an aura.

These freak little storms that are hammering us need to stop. First off, they are very localized. It may be raining where I am right now, but half a mile away, it will be dry as a bone. It will be cloudy for hours and then the skies open up into a torrential downpour. Gallons of rain fall in a short period of time. The wind drives these fat drops with enough force that if you are inside a building it sounds like someone is ripping the roof off. They don’t last long, about 15-30 minutes at the most, just enough to be annoying. These storms have been happening everyday since last Saturday.

If you are caught in one of them, you will be soaked. Trust me, I know. It happened to me yesterday. A local fast food restaurant, Arby’s, was having a sale. If you buy one sandwich, you get the second one of equal or lesser value free. My wife, T the Minion and I decided to go there on lunch. When we arrived, it was sunny and warm out. I parked Janine, my truck, in the only available spot I could fit her into which was on the far side of the parking lot. We went in ordered our food, which they screwed my order up, as they always do. It’s okay; they gave me a free summer-sized glow in the dark cup and drink to compensate for it. Hey, you can buy me off with $1.89 worth of pop in a $.60 collector’s cup!

We sat down and where half done eating when it happened. The skies opened up as Mother Nature squatted over the earth and took a long drunken piss on us mere mortals. The rain was hitting the plate glass windows so hard you could see them vibrate. I was waiting for the Skylight to shatter under the force of the driving droplets of destruction. The parking lot filled to a depth of a kiddy pool. The wind was blowing leaves and branches off trees. My wife and T decided we should wait for the rain to end. I played along, until the point where they would be late for work if we didn’t leave. Being the bad guy, I had to advise them if we did not leave soon, they would be late back from lunch. We had to head out.

We go out the front door. We are under an overhang at the entrance with another patron and his two kids. I tell T and my wife I will unlock the truck and they need to run and get in. My truck has four doors, but the two rear doors are the reverse doors that only open if the front door is open. T was sitting in the back seat so I told him to go first, once he gets in, I’ll go. My wife takes her shoes off because she can’t run in heals and takes off after T.

As they are running toward the truck, I look down to my hand, there is my remote lock and my thumb starts to slide toward the lock button. That is when my fellow Arby’s patron say’s pointedly, “You’re going to lock them out, aren’t you?� My thumb slides away from the lock button, I point to my wife and respond, “Nah, I’m married to that one, She’d kill me.� The patron just gave me this look and said, “Yea, I wouldn’t do that to my wife either.� I had never seen this guy before, but it was as if he knew me. He knew I was thinking of locking the doors and having a laugh at their expense. It was like he could sense some kind of aura or presence about me that screamed out to the universe, “BEWARE! This man is an asshole! Watch yourself and others around him. You have been warned! This message will repeat in 10 seconds� I’m not denying the thought crossed my mind, but I had already decided not to do it when he asked.

After Ktreva and T were in the truck, I took off across the lot. At one point, I took a step and water came flooding over the top of my shoe, soaking my foot. When I finally got into the truck, I looked at Ktreva and T. We were all soaked, water dripping down our faces. I start the truck and head back to work. We were not more then two minutes out of the lot when the rain just stopped. It didn’t slow down, it just went away.

We arrived at work with 3 minutes to spare. Ktreva and T where irritated because if we had waited and extra couple of minutes, we would have arrived to work dry and on time. I told them that no matter how much I would like to, I am prohibited in using my omnipotence in order to help them avoid the weather. Plus I did turn the air conditioner on to help them dry off! Did I mention the air conditioner in my truck could double as an industrial freezers cooling unit?

I didn’t really mind getting soaked I felt the wet clothes where a good trade for the benefits. I think my wife looks sexy when she’s all wet. She hates it, but it’s not about her! It’s all about her being wet in an air conditioned truck!