OK..
Now, I'm not going to say that I'm the smartest cookie out there.
I know that in fact I'm pretty oblivious to quite a few things, and there are some things I could really care less about.
But the fact of the matter is: Common Sense just isn't common anymore!
I mean, let's think about this for a second...
You'd think that someone who worked with a car would know that it needs gas, oil, and the occasional tune-up, right?
Yet this same person will then complain when the car breaks down. When asked when the last service was done, they'll say "Service? I put gas in it, what else do you think it needs?"
Observation #2: Someone working at night should know better than to turn lights out. One, it's DARK. Two, IT'S DARK. One coworker of mine is now on disability for falling off a loading dock because he couldn't see where he was going, and fell out of the loading doors. Pure Genious!
Then we have those folks who claim that they can do what they like with their bodies. It's their body, they make the call.
Fine and dandy. Do what you like. But please don't involve me in it. Then it no longer becomes YOUR decision, as it becomes OUR decision, since your actions also influence ME. Think about it.
Lastly, who was the idiot who considered bailing out a financial company? Really?
I mean, these people are supposed to be PROFESSIONALS at finance, and yet they went BANKRUPT!
If you're having to funnel cash into a bank because the bank keeps spending your money, where do you think you'll be getting your cash from? I can guarantee you that it won't be from your bank, because they're spending it all. But yet we're supposed to think it's OK for the government to bail out some finance companies, and expect everything to be A-OK?
I don't get it, and I don't think I ever really will.
Maybe it's just something wrong with MY wiring, and I tend to see things in a different light.
Maybe it's because I'm just too picky, and I want something to go right for a change..
Or maybe I'm just one voice of reason in a sea of idiocy.
I don't know, I really don't care, but I'm beginning to get worried.
Throw me a lifeline if you are one of those who agree with me!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
And more about Economics...
OK, so far the whole "Give me an INSANE amount of money" ploy isn't working.
Apparently I've got some kind of clout, because the ass-wipe known as Barack Obama is sitting with McCain and they're trying to hammer out the details.
Now who are the buttheads?
The sitting congressional Republicans.
Now, I have only one take on these folks...
They are more than willing to raise our taxes when they feel that they need some kind of pay raise.
They are more than willing to raise our taxes when they think they'll get some kind of advantage over another group or party.
But if you actually propose something that could really help the country and economy?
HELL NO.
Then they come up with excuses, because they didn't think of it first.
All I have to say is this:
There are what? About 320 million Americans living and paying taxes in this great nation we live in.
Bush is asking for 700 Billion in revenue.
do the math.. 320,000,000 versus 700,000,000,000.
Now I don't know about you, but that's a DAMN lot of zeros.
If it were me doing the proposal, I'd word it something like this..
Let Fanny Mae and Bernie Mac and AIG and all of those puss buckets rot in hell.
If you're going to swindle the American people, then you deserve the problems you've got, and we're not going to bail your asses out of the firepit that you've gotten yourselves into.
I do think that each tax-paying American citizen should receive a bit of a windfall, though, so we're going to do another stimulus program starting NOW.
With the 700 BILLION dollars granted to me, I'm going to give each person who filed taxes this last year 1 Million Dollars to be able to catch up on their debt.
Think about this. If each of us were to get a million bucks, what exactly would you do with it?
Me? I'd pay off everything, and then set the rest aside for my kids and their education. Pay off the cars, repair and pay off my house, erase all the credit cards. That should only bring my million down into the 800 Thousand mark, so I'd still have plenty left to put aside for my kids..
Not only that, but then paying off my house and cars and credit cards would give an influx of cash into the federal system, which would help it rebound.
So you get out of debt, and you bolster the economy at the same time..
To me, that's a complete win-win situation, and one that we're definitely NOT going to be seeing from Capitol Hill.
Why? Because it makes sense, and gets most of the problem solved.
If the problems are solved, then why would we need the idiots up there in office?
They know this, that's why they only agree to plans with serious flaws, so that they have something else to work with later on. It's called Job Security, and they're the only ones I know of who can create their own work, and not get taken to task for it.
Anyway, this rant is done.
Best of luck, and here's to hoping for that stimulus that I think would be better for the economy than rescuing all of those financial institutions..
Apparently I've got some kind of clout, because the ass-wipe known as Barack Obama is sitting with McCain and they're trying to hammer out the details.
Now who are the buttheads?
The sitting congressional Republicans.
Now, I have only one take on these folks...
They are more than willing to raise our taxes when they feel that they need some kind of pay raise.
They are more than willing to raise our taxes when they think they'll get some kind of advantage over another group or party.
But if you actually propose something that could really help the country and economy?
HELL NO.
Then they come up with excuses, because they didn't think of it first.
All I have to say is this:
There are what? About 320 million Americans living and paying taxes in this great nation we live in.
Bush is asking for 700 Billion in revenue.
do the math.. 320,000,000 versus 700,000,000,000.
Now I don't know about you, but that's a DAMN lot of zeros.
If it were me doing the proposal, I'd word it something like this..
Let Fanny Mae and Bernie Mac and AIG and all of those puss buckets rot in hell.
If you're going to swindle the American people, then you deserve the problems you've got, and we're not going to bail your asses out of the firepit that you've gotten yourselves into.
I do think that each tax-paying American citizen should receive a bit of a windfall, though, so we're going to do another stimulus program starting NOW.
With the 700 BILLION dollars granted to me, I'm going to give each person who filed taxes this last year 1 Million Dollars to be able to catch up on their debt.
Think about this. If each of us were to get a million bucks, what exactly would you do with it?
Me? I'd pay off everything, and then set the rest aside for my kids and their education. Pay off the cars, repair and pay off my house, erase all the credit cards. That should only bring my million down into the 800 Thousand mark, so I'd still have plenty left to put aside for my kids..
Not only that, but then paying off my house and cars and credit cards would give an influx of cash into the federal system, which would help it rebound.
So you get out of debt, and you bolster the economy at the same time..
To me, that's a complete win-win situation, and one that we're definitely NOT going to be seeing from Capitol Hill.
Why? Because it makes sense, and gets most of the problem solved.
If the problems are solved, then why would we need the idiots up there in office?
They know this, that's why they only agree to plans with serious flaws, so that they have something else to work with later on. It's called Job Security, and they're the only ones I know of who can create their own work, and not get taken to task for it.
Anyway, this rant is done.
Best of luck, and here's to hoping for that stimulus that I think would be better for the economy than rescuing all of those financial institutions..
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Economic Distress??
OK, this has been bugging me enough that I've GOT to comment on it...
Last night, GW made a statement to the nation about our failing economy, and is begging congress for money.
I think he'd have said it better if he'd brought a nice cardoard slab with the words
"Dead broke because of war. Anything helps. God Bless" on it.
Anyway, then you get the two nominees in on this, and it really becomes a circus.
McCain is stopping his campaign in order to address the issue. He feels that his total attention needs to be focused on the problem, and not on belittling his opponent.
To be honest, that is actually a breath of fresh air for me. Leave off with the name calling, and the whole "holier than thou" stuff, and focus on the problems of the nation.
Then you've got Obama. No. Not going to stop because of some small financial problem. I've got bigger fish to fry, and my butt belongs in that chair up in the White House.
Now personally, I don't like either candidate. But this petty action by Obama seriously set me off.
Let me tell you why..
If I had a problem, and you told me that you were too busy with your own schedule to help me out, I'd flip you the bird, and tell you to take your issues somewhere else, and leave me the fuck alone.
If you were to drop everything, and focus on me and my problems, you'd get a steadfast supporter who would return that favor.
If you can't guess, McCaid did it right in my eyes, and Obama is looking like nothing more to me than a greedy, self-absorbed jackass.
This country needs some fixing. And if you're going to ignore that just so that you can ride in the captain's chair, then you can kiss my ass.
Focus on the issues, gentlemen! Leave the speeches for those who just smile and nod at you. Actions speak louder than words, and right now, the words I'm hearing aren't jivving with some of the things you claim in your campaign speeches...
Anyone else think I'm too far off base? Let me know.
Last night, GW made a statement to the nation about our failing economy, and is begging congress for money.
I think he'd have said it better if he'd brought a nice cardoard slab with the words
"Dead broke because of war. Anything helps. God Bless" on it.
Anyway, then you get the two nominees in on this, and it really becomes a circus.
McCain is stopping his campaign in order to address the issue. He feels that his total attention needs to be focused on the problem, and not on belittling his opponent.
To be honest, that is actually a breath of fresh air for me. Leave off with the name calling, and the whole "holier than thou" stuff, and focus on the problems of the nation.
Then you've got Obama. No. Not going to stop because of some small financial problem. I've got bigger fish to fry, and my butt belongs in that chair up in the White House.
Now personally, I don't like either candidate. But this petty action by Obama seriously set me off.
Let me tell you why..
If I had a problem, and you told me that you were too busy with your own schedule to help me out, I'd flip you the bird, and tell you to take your issues somewhere else, and leave me the fuck alone.
If you were to drop everything, and focus on me and my problems, you'd get a steadfast supporter who would return that favor.
If you can't guess, McCaid did it right in my eyes, and Obama is looking like nothing more to me than a greedy, self-absorbed jackass.
This country needs some fixing. And if you're going to ignore that just so that you can ride in the captain's chair, then you can kiss my ass.
Focus on the issues, gentlemen! Leave the speeches for those who just smile and nod at you. Actions speak louder than words, and right now, the words I'm hearing aren't jivving with some of the things you claim in your campaign speeches...
Anyone else think I'm too far off base? Let me know.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Trips down memory lane....
Today, I'm going to recollect something that I used to do back in High School..
During the summer months, when school was out, I'd get a plane ticket, and travel to Minnesota to help out my uncle on his farm.
This was done each and every year since I started High School, for the fact that my uncle paid me to come work there, and they also paid for me to fly out there as well. (My folks didn't have the cash for the ticket, and were more than willing to get me out of their hair for a couple of months on someone else's tab!)
Out on the farm, I'd get the honor of slopping hogs, feeding chickens, milking cows, foddering horses, goats and sheep, baling hay, and running the combine at harvest.
Near the end of my time, there would be a big "slaughter fest" where my uncle would butcher the year's meat. This would usually entail about 1000 chickens, 10 cows, 50 lambs, and 100 pigs. I'd also get to help with shearing each year as well.
One main event that I remember from my first year at the farm had to do with baling hay.
For those of you who have never done this, it's a dirty job. Hay sticks EVERYWHERE. You get scratches from the dead stuff, it weighs a bunch early in the morning while the dew is still settling in it, and it itches like MAD.
Sometimes we'd catch a break, and my uncle would pony up the cash for a guy to come out with his 1/2 ton baler, and we'd roll up 1000 pounds of hay into HUGE rolls that we would then take to season with the tractor. Others, we'd break out the two tractors, one with two empty wagons, and one with the baler and one empty wagon behind it.
The drive of the baler tractor would then follow the line of hay, which would feed into the baler. This would bundle the hay into that compact shape we all know about, and then fasten two wire ties around the bundle. the bundled bale would then travel to a small spring-loaded catapult which would flip the bale into the empty wagon being towed behind. There were two of us that would be in the wagon, stacking the bales into neat rows. Once the wagon was full, the lead tractor would stop, we'd unhitch the full wagon, and leave it where it sat. We'd then get the other tractor with the two empty trailers, unhitch one empty, and hook it behind the baler. Then we'd swap the other empty trailer and hitch it to the back of the full trailer, and set off to bundle more hay.
Once all three trailers were full, we'd take a trip to the barn, and the hayloft (or haymow, as my uncle called it). Two of us would climb up on the conveyor belt that would be raised to the opening at the top of the barn, and we'd get ready to stack bales as the others would start loading the conveyor with the bales from the trailers. My uncle would start the conveyor, and we'd ride to the top of the haymow, turn on a light (mainly because it'd be dark in there, and we needed to see where to stack the bales), and get ready for some fast hard work. By the time we would have our first barn run, it would be about 6am. (we'd usually start about 4:30 in the morning) so it wasn't too bad at first. The bales themselves weigh about 50-75 pounds each, depending on what type of hay, so the work isn't difficult, but it's very repetative and exhausting after a while. We'd then stack this out to the roof of the barn, my uncle would shut off the conveyor, and we'd ride it back down to the tractors, and go back for the next set of bales.
This particular day, we were working with the alfalfa bales. For early in the morning, this was a MAJOR downer, as these bales when wet tended to weigh about 80 pounds. We'd worked up a good sweat, and it took longer than normal for the first run to get done. Mainly because of the baler breaking down, and taking about two hours to fix.
Once we got the first full set of trailers done, we rode back to the barn to stack. I was with my cousin, and we were going to be the lucky two up in the haymow stacking. We got there, my uncle turned on the conveyor, and we rode up to the loft. I turned on the light, and we looked over the older stacks. There were a couple of broken-down bales that we moved to one side to use, but for the most part, everything was looking good. Then the bales started coming. We grabbed each one, walked it about five steps, and slammed it down on the bales to set it in. As we did this, we each noticed something. There was one section of the loft that was warmer and darker than the others, and there was a humming noise coming from that area as well.
Knowing how well my uncle repaired stuff, my cousin and I assumed that there was a faulty wire or breaker under the floorboards over there, so we resolved to try and leave that area for last, since we didn't want to run the risk of being shocked so early in the morning.
The three trailers were emptied, we scrambled down the conveyor, got a quick drink, and hopped back on the tractors for round two. By now, it was getting close to midday, and the sun was out in all of it's glory. We sweated, cursed, and got the second batch done. We then headed back to the barns to stack the next batch. My cousin and I rode the conveyor back up, and seeing the stacks, shrugged and made the decision to work on the side where we'd heard the nasty humming.
As the first bale hit the stack, the humming got a bit more intense. By the third bale, it got darker in the loft. He and I looked at each other, and then ducked and ran.
Unknown to us, a nest of hornets had set up camp in the hay bales there, and we'd just crushed over half of the nest.
Now I don't know about you, but I HATE hornets. They sting more than once, and those stings HURT LIKE HELL.
My uncle and cousins didn't know what was going on when they saw us scrambling down the conveyor, but they figured it out really quickly when the angry cloud of hornets filled the sky behind us. We ran for the irrigation sluices, and dove for the mud and water. We hid there for about an hour, until the mad things gave up and flew away.
My cousin and I both had a few stings from that close call, and we had to call a professional exterminator to clear out the nest. He said it was one of the biggest hornet nests he'd ever seen.
Since that time, I've really had a problem going up into dark dimly-lit barns. And I really get jumpy if I hear humming or buzzing noises.
But hell, can you really blame me?
During the summer months, when school was out, I'd get a plane ticket, and travel to Minnesota to help out my uncle on his farm.
This was done each and every year since I started High School, for the fact that my uncle paid me to come work there, and they also paid for me to fly out there as well. (My folks didn't have the cash for the ticket, and were more than willing to get me out of their hair for a couple of months on someone else's tab!)
Out on the farm, I'd get the honor of slopping hogs, feeding chickens, milking cows, foddering horses, goats and sheep, baling hay, and running the combine at harvest.
Near the end of my time, there would be a big "slaughter fest" where my uncle would butcher the year's meat. This would usually entail about 1000 chickens, 10 cows, 50 lambs, and 100 pigs. I'd also get to help with shearing each year as well.
One main event that I remember from my first year at the farm had to do with baling hay.
For those of you who have never done this, it's a dirty job. Hay sticks EVERYWHERE. You get scratches from the dead stuff, it weighs a bunch early in the morning while the dew is still settling in it, and it itches like MAD.
Sometimes we'd catch a break, and my uncle would pony up the cash for a guy to come out with his 1/2 ton baler, and we'd roll up 1000 pounds of hay into HUGE rolls that we would then take to season with the tractor. Others, we'd break out the two tractors, one with two empty wagons, and one with the baler and one empty wagon behind it.
The drive of the baler tractor would then follow the line of hay, which would feed into the baler. This would bundle the hay into that compact shape we all know about, and then fasten two wire ties around the bundle. the bundled bale would then travel to a small spring-loaded catapult which would flip the bale into the empty wagon being towed behind. There were two of us that would be in the wagon, stacking the bales into neat rows. Once the wagon was full, the lead tractor would stop, we'd unhitch the full wagon, and leave it where it sat. We'd then get the other tractor with the two empty trailers, unhitch one empty, and hook it behind the baler. Then we'd swap the other empty trailer and hitch it to the back of the full trailer, and set off to bundle more hay.
Once all three trailers were full, we'd take a trip to the barn, and the hayloft (or haymow, as my uncle called it). Two of us would climb up on the conveyor belt that would be raised to the opening at the top of the barn, and we'd get ready to stack bales as the others would start loading the conveyor with the bales from the trailers. My uncle would start the conveyor, and we'd ride to the top of the haymow, turn on a light (mainly because it'd be dark in there, and we needed to see where to stack the bales), and get ready for some fast hard work. By the time we would have our first barn run, it would be about 6am. (we'd usually start about 4:30 in the morning) so it wasn't too bad at first. The bales themselves weigh about 50-75 pounds each, depending on what type of hay, so the work isn't difficult, but it's very repetative and exhausting after a while. We'd then stack this out to the roof of the barn, my uncle would shut off the conveyor, and we'd ride it back down to the tractors, and go back for the next set of bales.
This particular day, we were working with the alfalfa bales. For early in the morning, this was a MAJOR downer, as these bales when wet tended to weigh about 80 pounds. We'd worked up a good sweat, and it took longer than normal for the first run to get done. Mainly because of the baler breaking down, and taking about two hours to fix.
Once we got the first full set of trailers done, we rode back to the barn to stack. I was with my cousin, and we were going to be the lucky two up in the haymow stacking. We got there, my uncle turned on the conveyor, and we rode up to the loft. I turned on the light, and we looked over the older stacks. There were a couple of broken-down bales that we moved to one side to use, but for the most part, everything was looking good. Then the bales started coming. We grabbed each one, walked it about five steps, and slammed it down on the bales to set it in. As we did this, we each noticed something. There was one section of the loft that was warmer and darker than the others, and there was a humming noise coming from that area as well.
Knowing how well my uncle repaired stuff, my cousin and I assumed that there was a faulty wire or breaker under the floorboards over there, so we resolved to try and leave that area for last, since we didn't want to run the risk of being shocked so early in the morning.
The three trailers were emptied, we scrambled down the conveyor, got a quick drink, and hopped back on the tractors for round two. By now, it was getting close to midday, and the sun was out in all of it's glory. We sweated, cursed, and got the second batch done. We then headed back to the barns to stack the next batch. My cousin and I rode the conveyor back up, and seeing the stacks, shrugged and made the decision to work on the side where we'd heard the nasty humming.
As the first bale hit the stack, the humming got a bit more intense. By the third bale, it got darker in the loft. He and I looked at each other, and then ducked and ran.
Unknown to us, a nest of hornets had set up camp in the hay bales there, and we'd just crushed over half of the nest.
Now I don't know about you, but I HATE hornets. They sting more than once, and those stings HURT LIKE HELL.
My uncle and cousins didn't know what was going on when they saw us scrambling down the conveyor, but they figured it out really quickly when the angry cloud of hornets filled the sky behind us. We ran for the irrigation sluices, and dove for the mud and water. We hid there for about an hour, until the mad things gave up and flew away.
My cousin and I both had a few stings from that close call, and we had to call a professional exterminator to clear out the nest. He said it was one of the biggest hornet nests he'd ever seen.
Since that time, I've really had a problem going up into dark dimly-lit barns. And I really get jumpy if I hear humming or buzzing noises.
But hell, can you really blame me?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
More questions....
Do you know of someone who is totally self-involved?
I do.
He's my brother.
Now, I don't say this to be mean, but he's one of the most selfish folks I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. This man thinks that if it doesn't happen to him in the way he thinks it should, then it shouldn't happen at all.
Take this for example:
High school. My brother was "in" during his high school times. Drummer in the band, football jock, and pretty popular with the girls.
All that went to shit when he got a Sophomore girl pregnant, and she decided to keep the baby instead of listen to him and get an abortion. He's resentful to her for not thinking it through..
Now, to me, this just screams "I'm an IDIOT!"
SHE didn't think things through? Excuse me? I don't recall him claiming to have used any protection, so who else wasn't thinking too clearly? I don't recall him not having sex with her, so there again is a lack of forethought...
Anyway, my biggest bitch right now is in regards to his newest scenario...
He's quitting his job (again)!
Now, this job of his requires two things: Service for his customers, and sales of the product.
He sells tires to corporate accounts. Thus, he goes from jobsite to jobsite, makes accounts, sells tires, and then replaces them as necessary.
Doing this nets him a HUGE paycheck. He brings in nearly 6K a paycheck for his efforts, and he only works 6 hours a day, 5 days a week.
To put that in perspective, I, the college grad, only bring in about 3.5k a paycheck, and that's before taxes!
Now my brother got all pissy about getting talked to because he stepped on some toes, and went into a service area that isn't in his location. Thus, he took business away from someone else in the shop, and they posted a complaint about it.
Now, not one to be outdone, he then points out the flaws in each person there, and claims that if they all were to work like he did, then the company would make much more than they currently are.
Needless to say, he got chewed, and chewed good.
So because of this, he's quitting. He's taking his company truck to his private shop, and turning it all in.
I normally could care less, but for one thing:
He did this same thing about a month and a half ago, and THEY ASKED HIM BACK!
Now, am I missing something here? Is he really God's gift to the tire sales business, and I'm just not seeing it? Does his mouth drip gold when I'm not looking?
He's not lined up another job for himself, but he assures me that because of his "contacts", he'll have another job before the end of the week. Me, being the devil's advocate that I can be, asked him how he is planning on paying his child support this week, considering that he's not going to be getting the regular paycheck he's used to.
I'm not against folks leaving for slights when they have another job open and waiting for them. But leaving just because you want to, and NOT have some kind of backup plan? That's just idiocy!
Anyway, what do you think? Is his action stupid, arrogant, self-absorbed, or anything else I might have forgotten to mention?
Let me know. As tactful as I am, I'm sure that I'll call him something that's going to piss him off in the near future anyway!
I do.
He's my brother.
Now, I don't say this to be mean, but he's one of the most selfish folks I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. This man thinks that if it doesn't happen to him in the way he thinks it should, then it shouldn't happen at all.
Take this for example:
High school. My brother was "in" during his high school times. Drummer in the band, football jock, and pretty popular with the girls.
All that went to shit when he got a Sophomore girl pregnant, and she decided to keep the baby instead of listen to him and get an abortion. He's resentful to her for not thinking it through..
Now, to me, this just screams "I'm an IDIOT!"
SHE didn't think things through? Excuse me? I don't recall him claiming to have used any protection, so who else wasn't thinking too clearly? I don't recall him not having sex with her, so there again is a lack of forethought...
Anyway, my biggest bitch right now is in regards to his newest scenario...
He's quitting his job (again)!
Now, this job of his requires two things: Service for his customers, and sales of the product.
He sells tires to corporate accounts. Thus, he goes from jobsite to jobsite, makes accounts, sells tires, and then replaces them as necessary.
Doing this nets him a HUGE paycheck. He brings in nearly 6K a paycheck for his efforts, and he only works 6 hours a day, 5 days a week.
To put that in perspective, I, the college grad, only bring in about 3.5k a paycheck, and that's before taxes!
Now my brother got all pissy about getting talked to because he stepped on some toes, and went into a service area that isn't in his location. Thus, he took business away from someone else in the shop, and they posted a complaint about it.
Now, not one to be outdone, he then points out the flaws in each person there, and claims that if they all were to work like he did, then the company would make much more than they currently are.
Needless to say, he got chewed, and chewed good.
So because of this, he's quitting. He's taking his company truck to his private shop, and turning it all in.
I normally could care less, but for one thing:
He did this same thing about a month and a half ago, and THEY ASKED HIM BACK!
Now, am I missing something here? Is he really God's gift to the tire sales business, and I'm just not seeing it? Does his mouth drip gold when I'm not looking?
He's not lined up another job for himself, but he assures me that because of his "contacts", he'll have another job before the end of the week. Me, being the devil's advocate that I can be, asked him how he is planning on paying his child support this week, considering that he's not going to be getting the regular paycheck he's used to.
I'm not against folks leaving for slights when they have another job open and waiting for them. But leaving just because you want to, and NOT have some kind of backup plan? That's just idiocy!
Anyway, what do you think? Is his action stupid, arrogant, self-absorbed, or anything else I might have forgotten to mention?
Let me know. As tactful as I am, I'm sure that I'll call him something that's going to piss him off in the near future anyway!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Teen escapades
Time for a trip back in history, to when I was a senior in high school, and getting in TONS of mischief!
My last month of high school seemed so full of things that I did that should have either killed me, sent me to prison, or at the very least left indelible marks on my person.
I'll tell you about one of them..
My first car was a 1971 Volkswagon Super Beetle. It was painted bright orange, so that the rust wasn't easily visible. The heaters worked.. ALL THE TIME.. And one headlight would never stay adjusted right.
This car became a rolling ball of fun that year, as me and my friends would use it to regularly get into all sorts of teen mischief.
On this particular night, we'd decided that we (all 10 of us) were going to go out and "cut cookies" in as many school fields as we could find.
The night started out ominously. I went and picked up all 10 of my buddies, and they piled like sardines in the back of my VW Bug.
For those not familiar with the "Bug", it seats 4, but very uncomfortably. Now imagine two 6' tall guys in the front seats, and 9 guys piles like firewood in the back of this little tin can. (I'd made the modification so that my back seat would fold down flat, and make a type of cargo bed if needed).
Anyway, on our way to pick up some more vehicles, I was pulled over by one of our city's finest.
Everyone was in shock. They didn't know what was going to happen, and they for sure thought we were busted before the night could begin, and confession to potential mayhem to the parents now seemed to be an inevitable conclusion to this night.
However, my cool head prevailed, and I took charge.
"What are you boys doing out this late at night?" the officer asked me.
"My brother and his friends were over at my house this evening, and I'd told their parents that I'd bring them home before 10. As you can see, I fell asleep, and I'm trying to hurry to get them home before they or I get in any more trouble, officer!" I responded in my panicky big-brother voice. (The panic didn't have to be faked, I nearly pooped myself when I'd seen his overhead lights)
I and my passengers got the fish-eye from the officer, and then he handed my ID and info back.
"Get them home, and stay out of trouble" he admonished me. Little did he know how much trouble we'd get into that night.
Promising my eternal diligence, I put the car back into gear, and headed to the first destination.
Three kids got out, and one truck was picked up from a parent's workplace.
Next stop, four more kids and a suburban were acquired.
Now we had three cars, all pretty full, and kids just raring for some mischief.
The town I grew up in is pretty small. However, there are quite a few gradeschools and city parks spead throughout the area. These then became our targets.
My little machine was the pick of the litter for this, as I could drive it up a wheelchair access with no difficulty. Because of this, I was able to get into parks that nobody else could.
I ran bases around baseball diamonds with my car.
I created 25 foot long turf tears trying to create the longest skid.
And I nearly killed us all when running the bases once, I hit the grass outfield, and flipped the car onto two wheels for what seemed like an eternity.
The guys still talk about that one.
But the one thing they always remember is... The Jump.
Near the end of the night, we were headed back to my house to get some drinks, and plan the next night. While on the road home, I noticed a road that joined onto mine that had to come up at least 3 feet before it could join the pavement.
Harps rang, and angels sang when I saw the potential in this one intersection.
I grabbed the maglite that I kept in my glovebox, and asked who was going to "stand watch" at the intersection while I jumped the road.
At first, I didn't get any volunteers, because EVERYONE wanted to go.
Then, when I informed them that I could only take three at a time, in order not to weigh down the car, they drew straws. This also meant that I would be jumping this three times.
The first jump, I only got a 20 foot start. it was decent. Wheels came off the pavement, the landing was a bit rough, but all in all, a good start.
First group climbs out, next group piles in.
For the second jump, I got the car up to about 45 miles an hour. Good takeoff, decent landing, and everyone had a great time pretending to be one of the actors right out of "The Dukes of Hazzard".
Exit group two, enter group three.
For my final jump, I pulled back about 180 feet. I gunned it, and was doing about 80 miles an hour when I hit the jump.
Now, two things occurred to me when I hit the jump the last time.
One, the last group was made up of older and heavier guys.
Two, I hit the jump a bit crooked.
We LAUNCHED.
There is no better way to describe it. If you've seen Top Gun, and the way the catapults shoot the jets off that aircraft carrier, then you know what the Bug looked like taking off from this last jump.
Now, with there being heavier guys in the car, it did something I hadn't dealt with before.. It started to tilt to the heavier side while in the air.
Add to that the complication of being turned a bit when we took off, and you've got a car that's leaning and tilting, and not coming in at a good angle for landing in one piece.
Not only that, but we'd drifted a bit, and we were headed directly for a concrete fountain and pond in someone's front yard.
I held on for dear life, while everyone else just screamed at the top of their lungs.
Luckily for us all, when the car hit, the tires caught, and I was able to turn us away from the fountain while digging a 15 foot furrow in the yard.
Needless to say, I had to spend the next two weeks working on the suspension, in order to clear all the grass and dirt out of the undercarriage, and replace a spring that had broken. But I had accomplished something that night.
Complete infamy in the memories of the fellows who went with me.
It never fails to come up in conversation when I meet one of those guys, even if it has been nearly 20 years since this happened. I think it lives on forever fresh and frightening to know how close we came to making an indelible mark on our lives.
Ah, young boys and their escapades!
My only hope is that my boys don't learn about this, so that I can at least retire without having a heart attack!
My last month of high school seemed so full of things that I did that should have either killed me, sent me to prison, or at the very least left indelible marks on my person.
I'll tell you about one of them..
My first car was a 1971 Volkswagon Super Beetle. It was painted bright orange, so that the rust wasn't easily visible. The heaters worked.. ALL THE TIME.. And one headlight would never stay adjusted right.
This car became a rolling ball of fun that year, as me and my friends would use it to regularly get into all sorts of teen mischief.
On this particular night, we'd decided that we (all 10 of us) were going to go out and "cut cookies" in as many school fields as we could find.
The night started out ominously. I went and picked up all 10 of my buddies, and they piled like sardines in the back of my VW Bug.
For those not familiar with the "Bug", it seats 4, but very uncomfortably. Now imagine two 6' tall guys in the front seats, and 9 guys piles like firewood in the back of this little tin can. (I'd made the modification so that my back seat would fold down flat, and make a type of cargo bed if needed).
Anyway, on our way to pick up some more vehicles, I was pulled over by one of our city's finest.
Everyone was in shock. They didn't know what was going to happen, and they for sure thought we were busted before the night could begin, and confession to potential mayhem to the parents now seemed to be an inevitable conclusion to this night.
However, my cool head prevailed, and I took charge.
"What are you boys doing out this late at night?" the officer asked me.
"My brother and his friends were over at my house this evening, and I'd told their parents that I'd bring them home before 10. As you can see, I fell asleep, and I'm trying to hurry to get them home before they or I get in any more trouble, officer!" I responded in my panicky big-brother voice. (The panic didn't have to be faked, I nearly pooped myself when I'd seen his overhead lights)
I and my passengers got the fish-eye from the officer, and then he handed my ID and info back.
"Get them home, and stay out of trouble" he admonished me. Little did he know how much trouble we'd get into that night.
Promising my eternal diligence, I put the car back into gear, and headed to the first destination.
Three kids got out, and one truck was picked up from a parent's workplace.
Next stop, four more kids and a suburban were acquired.
Now we had three cars, all pretty full, and kids just raring for some mischief.
The town I grew up in is pretty small. However, there are quite a few gradeschools and city parks spead throughout the area. These then became our targets.
My little machine was the pick of the litter for this, as I could drive it up a wheelchair access with no difficulty. Because of this, I was able to get into parks that nobody else could.
I ran bases around baseball diamonds with my car.
I created 25 foot long turf tears trying to create the longest skid.
And I nearly killed us all when running the bases once, I hit the grass outfield, and flipped the car onto two wheels for what seemed like an eternity.
The guys still talk about that one.
But the one thing they always remember is... The Jump.
Near the end of the night, we were headed back to my house to get some drinks, and plan the next night. While on the road home, I noticed a road that joined onto mine that had to come up at least 3 feet before it could join the pavement.
Harps rang, and angels sang when I saw the potential in this one intersection.
I grabbed the maglite that I kept in my glovebox, and asked who was going to "stand watch" at the intersection while I jumped the road.
At first, I didn't get any volunteers, because EVERYONE wanted to go.
Then, when I informed them that I could only take three at a time, in order not to weigh down the car, they drew straws. This also meant that I would be jumping this three times.
The first jump, I only got a 20 foot start. it was decent. Wheels came off the pavement, the landing was a bit rough, but all in all, a good start.
First group climbs out, next group piles in.
For the second jump, I got the car up to about 45 miles an hour. Good takeoff, decent landing, and everyone had a great time pretending to be one of the actors right out of "The Dukes of Hazzard".
Exit group two, enter group three.
For my final jump, I pulled back about 180 feet. I gunned it, and was doing about 80 miles an hour when I hit the jump.
Now, two things occurred to me when I hit the jump the last time.
One, the last group was made up of older and heavier guys.
Two, I hit the jump a bit crooked.
We LAUNCHED.
There is no better way to describe it. If you've seen Top Gun, and the way the catapults shoot the jets off that aircraft carrier, then you know what the Bug looked like taking off from this last jump.
Now, with there being heavier guys in the car, it did something I hadn't dealt with before.. It started to tilt to the heavier side while in the air.
Add to that the complication of being turned a bit when we took off, and you've got a car that's leaning and tilting, and not coming in at a good angle for landing in one piece.
Not only that, but we'd drifted a bit, and we were headed directly for a concrete fountain and pond in someone's front yard.
I held on for dear life, while everyone else just screamed at the top of their lungs.
Luckily for us all, when the car hit, the tires caught, and I was able to turn us away from the fountain while digging a 15 foot furrow in the yard.
Needless to say, I had to spend the next two weeks working on the suspension, in order to clear all the grass and dirt out of the undercarriage, and replace a spring that had broken. But I had accomplished something that night.
Complete infamy in the memories of the fellows who went with me.
It never fails to come up in conversation when I meet one of those guys, even if it has been nearly 20 years since this happened. I think it lives on forever fresh and frightening to know how close we came to making an indelible mark on our lives.
Ah, young boys and their escapades!
My only hope is that my boys don't learn about this, so that I can at least retire without having a heart attack!
*sigh*
OK, so now I can talk to you all about the "discussion" my wife and I had last night.
It was the whole "I think we need to take some time apart. It's not you, I think it's me" bullshit.
WTF?
Where does this shit come from, and why does it usually come with absolutely NO warning??
I mean really, this has taken me completely by surprise. I know that she was upset about some little stuff, but how the fuck do you make the full transition from little stuff to 'packing my shit up because I've not been happy for a while now'?
How long has she not been happy?
Why didn't I see it?
Am I blind?
Whenever I try to think back, I can't even picture when she would be upset enough to want to leave. I didn't think that me not liking laundry or dishes could lead to a potential for divorce.
I mean, I LOVE THIS WOMAN. How else can I possibly show her that? How can I prove my love, my desire, whatever?
I know I'm not her picture-perfect image of what a husband should be. I'm not her dad. I'm not her wonderful friend's husband who can do no wrong. I'm me. I'm flawed. She's told me that she doesn't want someone like her dad or friend's hubby. Is she lying to me?
I don't know.
To be honest right now, I'm getting to the point where even though I love her dearly, I'm starting to not care, and that really frightens me.
This woman helped me to develop into a wonderful father. She's the one who opened my eyes to the crap I was unintentionally causing just by being lazy. She's the one who helped me turn my life around and become a solid provider for my family.
Yet now she's giving up on me. All this makes me feel like wanting to do is just give up myself.
If she's tired of helping and believing in me, why should I bother keeping up the work?
The person who helped me get this way is giving up, so maybe I'm a lost cause, and should give up on myself.
I don't know.
I just know that right now I'm hurt, angry, and stressed over what's going to happen next.
What's going to become of me and my kids?
Where are we going to go?
Where are we going to live?
How can I explain this to them?
I'm done for now, because if I keep dwelling on this while at work, I'm really going to have a shitty day.
More later.
It was the whole "I think we need to take some time apart. It's not you, I think it's me" bullshit.
WTF?
Where does this shit come from, and why does it usually come with absolutely NO warning??
I mean really, this has taken me completely by surprise. I know that she was upset about some little stuff, but how the fuck do you make the full transition from little stuff to 'packing my shit up because I've not been happy for a while now'?
How long has she not been happy?
Why didn't I see it?
Am I blind?
Whenever I try to think back, I can't even picture when she would be upset enough to want to leave. I didn't think that me not liking laundry or dishes could lead to a potential for divorce.
I mean, I LOVE THIS WOMAN. How else can I possibly show her that? How can I prove my love, my desire, whatever?
I know I'm not her picture-perfect image of what a husband should be. I'm not her dad. I'm not her wonderful friend's husband who can do no wrong. I'm me. I'm flawed. She's told me that she doesn't want someone like her dad or friend's hubby. Is she lying to me?
I don't know.
To be honest right now, I'm getting to the point where even though I love her dearly, I'm starting to not care, and that really frightens me.
This woman helped me to develop into a wonderful father. She's the one who opened my eyes to the crap I was unintentionally causing just by being lazy. She's the one who helped me turn my life around and become a solid provider for my family.
Yet now she's giving up on me. All this makes me feel like wanting to do is just give up myself.
If she's tired of helping and believing in me, why should I bother keeping up the work?
The person who helped me get this way is giving up, so maybe I'm a lost cause, and should give up on myself.
I don't know.
I just know that right now I'm hurt, angry, and stressed over what's going to happen next.
What's going to become of me and my kids?
Where are we going to go?
Where are we going to live?
How can I explain this to them?
I'm done for now, because if I keep dwelling on this while at work, I'm really going to have a shitty day.
More later.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Um, hello??
So, apparently my working my butt off just isn't enough.
I'm home, and I'm blogging.
Why? Because the wife and I just had a nice little tiff, and now she's off somewhere, and I'm here to vent.
I work only 4 days a week, and have three days off. I work Tuesday through Friday, and have Saturday, Sunday and Mondays off.
However, on the 4 days I work, I put in 12 hours per day. That gives me a total of 48 hours of work done in 4 days. This equates to 8 hours of overtime per week standard.
That's the normal schedule!
Then, there are times when I'm needed to go above and beyond my normal schedule, and come in on Saturdays or Mondays for at least half of a day, and contribute. This adds 6-ish hours to my work week. Usually this comes on Mondays, and rarely a Saturday.
The reason this bites is that I'd much rather tack on hours at the end of one work week, than start a new week with overtime. That, and most madness tends to hit on Mondays, so I usually wind up doing my "regular" job, instead of what I came in for the overtime for...
Anyway, the reason for this rant:
After my argument with the wife, she has brought to my attention that I'm not doing enough.
I only work 4 days a week, and I do yardwork and home improvement stuff, but only when needed. For the rest, I take too many naps when I get home, and I don't help out with other mundane chores.
Now, let's assess this, shall we?
I "only" work 4 days a week. My wife's job is as an administrative assistant, and she basically gets to set her own schedule. However, she is not supposed to schedule more than 40 hours on her schedule unless absolutely necessary. Mostly, she's supposed to stay in the 36-38 hours a week timetable.
Let's compare.. 36-38 hours versus 48-54? So far, I put in more time at work.
Now, yes, I'm a napper. When I get home, I'm usually exhausted, and I'll collapse in my favorite overstuffed recliner, and fall asleep with sounds of kids running rampant in the background. But honestly, when you work that many hours, and you get a chance to stop or slow down, WHO WOULDN'T?
I recall my wife having to work one 10 hour stint. She came home, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on the couch for some "much needed sleep". This turned into a 3 hour siesta.
One day of putting in something comparable to what I do 4 days a week, and she needs a 3 hour nap to cope? And she's telling me that _I_ nap too much?
So far, in my scorebook, it's:
ME: 2
Wife: 0
Anyway.. Yardwork. I'm not the most diligent about the yard. I pick up the dog poo. I'll rake leaves. I'll mow the lawn, and from time to time I'll even run the weed eater and trim up the edges. I'm not really a guy who takes pride in planting pretty flowers in the yard, or worrying about weeds that should happen to grow in places where only dirt should be, or making sure that every piece of rock is raked back onto the driveway. These are NOT a priority in my book.
Yes, I know that hedges need to be trimmed, and I also know that I should do something about the blakcberry bushes that keep growing unchecked in our hedges. However, to date I have yet to find a good alternative option for taking care of this myself, and until I have an answer, I'll just annually whack at the beasts, and hope they look better next year.
With this said, I move on to what I do and do not do at home.
We have three children. They are mine from a previous marriage, and we both love them more than anything else. I couldn't ask for a better mother for my kids than the wife I have now.
With her work schedule, there are days when I'm needed to step up, and take care of the kids. I get home, make sure homework is done, toys aren't lurking somewhere to break legs, dinner is served, showers are taken, and clothes are taken care of.
Because of some stuff that happened to me while growing up, there are things I absolutely HATE to deal with. One is folding laundry. I'll start a load in the washer, and I'll even put stuff from the wash into the dryer. But asking me to fold laundry is like asking me if I'd like to poke my eyes out with hot nails. Long story about it, maybe I'll tell it some other time.
Another thing I hate to do? Dishes. I don't know many folks who really enjoy doing dishes. Me? I can't stand it. My previous marriage was one where I'd have to work, and I'd come home to dishes that had been sitting in various areas of the house for WEEKS. I'd finally get sick, and wash dishes, but I couldn't stand it. I would try to keep up on them, but one person making an effort just doesn't seem to get the job done. This is one reason why I do try to help out, but doing dishes is something I'd rather not have to deal with.
I'll make beds, I'll vacuum, I'll dust, I'll wash windows. I'll move furniture. Heck, I'll even sweep and mop. I'll clean bathrooms. Just don't ask me to do dishes or laundry.
Turns out that these two things are what really bother her the most. Mainly because her dad does them at her house.
Now. I can really understand this. She sees it as normal because she's grown up around seeing her dad do these things, and I applaud my father-in-law for being such a wonderful person.
However, if she'd seen MY dad growing up.. Well let's just say that I'd be up for Man Of The Year for the things I actually do around the house.
Anyway, I think I'm done bitching. Sorry for the nasty second post, but I really needed to get this off my mind and chest.
Let me know what you think, oh, and tell me some of your pet peeves with household chores.. Indoor or outdoor!
I'm home, and I'm blogging.
Why? Because the wife and I just had a nice little tiff, and now she's off somewhere, and I'm here to vent.
I work only 4 days a week, and have three days off. I work Tuesday through Friday, and have Saturday, Sunday and Mondays off.
However, on the 4 days I work, I put in 12 hours per day. That gives me a total of 48 hours of work done in 4 days. This equates to 8 hours of overtime per week standard.
That's the normal schedule!
Then, there are times when I'm needed to go above and beyond my normal schedule, and come in on Saturdays or Mondays for at least half of a day, and contribute. This adds 6-ish hours to my work week. Usually this comes on Mondays, and rarely a Saturday.
The reason this bites is that I'd much rather tack on hours at the end of one work week, than start a new week with overtime. That, and most madness tends to hit on Mondays, so I usually wind up doing my "regular" job, instead of what I came in for the overtime for...
Anyway, the reason for this rant:
After my argument with the wife, she has brought to my attention that I'm not doing enough.
I only work 4 days a week, and I do yardwork and home improvement stuff, but only when needed. For the rest, I take too many naps when I get home, and I don't help out with other mundane chores.
Now, let's assess this, shall we?
I "only" work 4 days a week. My wife's job is as an administrative assistant, and she basically gets to set her own schedule. However, she is not supposed to schedule more than 40 hours on her schedule unless absolutely necessary. Mostly, she's supposed to stay in the 36-38 hours a week timetable.
Let's compare.. 36-38 hours versus 48-54? So far, I put in more time at work.
Now, yes, I'm a napper. When I get home, I'm usually exhausted, and I'll collapse in my favorite overstuffed recliner, and fall asleep with sounds of kids running rampant in the background. But honestly, when you work that many hours, and you get a chance to stop or slow down, WHO WOULDN'T?
I recall my wife having to work one 10 hour stint. She came home, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on the couch for some "much needed sleep". This turned into a 3 hour siesta.
One day of putting in something comparable to what I do 4 days a week, and she needs a 3 hour nap to cope? And she's telling me that _I_ nap too much?
So far, in my scorebook, it's:
ME: 2
Wife: 0
Anyway.. Yardwork. I'm not the most diligent about the yard. I pick up the dog poo. I'll rake leaves. I'll mow the lawn, and from time to time I'll even run the weed eater and trim up the edges. I'm not really a guy who takes pride in planting pretty flowers in the yard, or worrying about weeds that should happen to grow in places where only dirt should be, or making sure that every piece of rock is raked back onto the driveway. These are NOT a priority in my book.
Yes, I know that hedges need to be trimmed, and I also know that I should do something about the blakcberry bushes that keep growing unchecked in our hedges. However, to date I have yet to find a good alternative option for taking care of this myself, and until I have an answer, I'll just annually whack at the beasts, and hope they look better next year.
With this said, I move on to what I do and do not do at home.
We have three children. They are mine from a previous marriage, and we both love them more than anything else. I couldn't ask for a better mother for my kids than the wife I have now.
With her work schedule, there are days when I'm needed to step up, and take care of the kids. I get home, make sure homework is done, toys aren't lurking somewhere to break legs, dinner is served, showers are taken, and clothes are taken care of.
Because of some stuff that happened to me while growing up, there are things I absolutely HATE to deal with. One is folding laundry. I'll start a load in the washer, and I'll even put stuff from the wash into the dryer. But asking me to fold laundry is like asking me if I'd like to poke my eyes out with hot nails. Long story about it, maybe I'll tell it some other time.
Another thing I hate to do? Dishes. I don't know many folks who really enjoy doing dishes. Me? I can't stand it. My previous marriage was one where I'd have to work, and I'd come home to dishes that had been sitting in various areas of the house for WEEKS. I'd finally get sick, and wash dishes, but I couldn't stand it. I would try to keep up on them, but one person making an effort just doesn't seem to get the job done. This is one reason why I do try to help out, but doing dishes is something I'd rather not have to deal with.
I'll make beds, I'll vacuum, I'll dust, I'll wash windows. I'll move furniture. Heck, I'll even sweep and mop. I'll clean bathrooms. Just don't ask me to do dishes or laundry.
Turns out that these two things are what really bother her the most. Mainly because her dad does them at her house.
Now. I can really understand this. She sees it as normal because she's grown up around seeing her dad do these things, and I applaud my father-in-law for being such a wonderful person.
However, if she'd seen MY dad growing up.. Well let's just say that I'd be up for Man Of The Year for the things I actually do around the house.
Anyway, I think I'm done bitching. Sorry for the nasty second post, but I really needed to get this off my mind and chest.
Let me know what you think, oh, and tell me some of your pet peeves with household chores.. Indoor or outdoor!
Work, work, work
So I've got a question for you all out there...
Have there been days where no matter what you're doing, you still wind up NOT getting the job done that you initially set out to do?
I find that more and more often, I'm unable to complete even the smallest task without being redirected at least 10-15 times.
Take yesterday for example:
My plan was to get the lawn mowed.
Normally, this consists of getting the mower, making sure there's gas in it, starting it up, and off I go.
Yesterday? Had to walk aroud the yard and pick up the toys that the kids left lying ALL OVER the house and yard. After filling up three plastic totes of toy mayhem, I then had to go back and pick up dog doo, mainly because my oldest refuses to stoop to scoop, and so he misses nearly everything the dog does in the yard. Then, I had to move all of the yard furniture that had been set out for our last (aborted) barbecue. In moving the furniture, my wife called out for me to put the chairs in the shed.
Opening the shed, I find that the kids have been throwing their stuff in here, and there's no way on God's green earth that I'm going to be able to get past the doors, let alone put the chairs in the shed. So I proceed to clean the shed, so that the chairs can get put away.
Wife notices the shed getting cleaned, and calls to see if I could also find the spare lightbulbs and a small screwdriver.
Screwdriver? Yes. Seems she's lost something in the dryer, and needs to take off the backing in order to get it back. Open tool chest, enter house.
By this time, there's a half-clean lawn, a mower full of gas sitting outside the shop, and kids stuff sitting outside the shed.
I fix the dryer problem, replace lightbulbs, and clean up the rest. I return the screwdriver to the tool chest, and proceed to continue cleaning out the shed. I stumble upon some blackberry killer that I'd bought a year ago to help kill out the menace that is growing in my hedges. Realizing that delay only lets this beast grow stronger, I then put on gloves and a face shield, and go and spray the evil blackberry bushes. I then throw away the old bottle (recycle of course!), wash up, and head back out to clean the shed.
I finally get the shelves cleared that the kids' toys need to go on when my wife calls me for dinner. I go inside, clean up, and eat. Then I help with washing dishes. My wife tells me that she needs to run, because she's got a dance class, then she's going to get some groceries, and then she's running over to a friend's house to watch the finale of one of "her shows". I look outside, and dusk is rapidly approaching.
I finish the dishes, get kids ready for bed, and then rush outside and throw all the kid stuff into the shed, and push the mower back into the shop. I then swear to myself that I'll get it done.. Tomorrow.
Well, here's to hoping!
Have there been days where no matter what you're doing, you still wind up NOT getting the job done that you initially set out to do?
I find that more and more often, I'm unable to complete even the smallest task without being redirected at least 10-15 times.
Take yesterday for example:
My plan was to get the lawn mowed.
Normally, this consists of getting the mower, making sure there's gas in it, starting it up, and off I go.
Yesterday? Had to walk aroud the yard and pick up the toys that the kids left lying ALL OVER the house and yard. After filling up three plastic totes of toy mayhem, I then had to go back and pick up dog doo, mainly because my oldest refuses to stoop to scoop, and so he misses nearly everything the dog does in the yard. Then, I had to move all of the yard furniture that had been set out for our last (aborted) barbecue. In moving the furniture, my wife called out for me to put the chairs in the shed.
Opening the shed, I find that the kids have been throwing their stuff in here, and there's no way on God's green earth that I'm going to be able to get past the doors, let alone put the chairs in the shed. So I proceed to clean the shed, so that the chairs can get put away.
Wife notices the shed getting cleaned, and calls to see if I could also find the spare lightbulbs and a small screwdriver.
Screwdriver? Yes. Seems she's lost something in the dryer, and needs to take off the backing in order to get it back. Open tool chest, enter house.
By this time, there's a half-clean lawn, a mower full of gas sitting outside the shop, and kids stuff sitting outside the shed.
I fix the dryer problem, replace lightbulbs, and clean up the rest. I return the screwdriver to the tool chest, and proceed to continue cleaning out the shed. I stumble upon some blackberry killer that I'd bought a year ago to help kill out the menace that is growing in my hedges. Realizing that delay only lets this beast grow stronger, I then put on gloves and a face shield, and go and spray the evil blackberry bushes. I then throw away the old bottle (recycle of course!), wash up, and head back out to clean the shed.
I finally get the shelves cleared that the kids' toys need to go on when my wife calls me for dinner. I go inside, clean up, and eat. Then I help with washing dishes. My wife tells me that she needs to run, because she's got a dance class, then she's going to get some groceries, and then she's running over to a friend's house to watch the finale of one of "her shows". I look outside, and dusk is rapidly approaching.
I finish the dishes, get kids ready for bed, and then rush outside and throw all the kid stuff into the shed, and push the mower back into the shop. I then swear to myself that I'll get it done.. Tomorrow.
Well, here's to hoping!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Sobriety Check..
Thanks to The Nemesing One, I'm inspired to talk about one of my run-ins with the Boys in Blue (and girls!)
Back before I got this awesome office job where I deal with every braindead creature on the face of the planet, I was a hard-working grunt who kept down three jobs.
One of these was working on the weekends as a DJ for a local bar. I'd get in around 6pm, set my stuff up, have a beer, then play music all night until closing at around 2am. Then I'd pack up my gear, and shove off for bed so that I could be up in time for my 8am shift.
This particular night was a busy one. The place was packed as soon as I walked in the door. I set my stuff up, and tried for a beer, but the bar was so crowded that I didn't bother.
Soon the joint was rocking, and I was having a grand time. All too soon, the time had come to tear down the equipment, and head for home.
Ears ringing, I set the cruise control, and relaxed a bit by blasting some screaming metal from the radio and rolling down my window.
Suddenly, I see red and blue lights behind me. Pulling over, I fish around and get my information.
The officer takes my info, and scans it all over, and then asks me that fatal question:
"Do you know why I pulled you over this evening?"
I take a few (8 or so) calming breaths. At this point, it's not a good idea to be a smartass to someone who can give you a FAT ticket.
"Not really, officer" I reply.
"I clocked you going 45 in a 35 zone" he says.
"That's strange" I answer. "I had my cruise control set, and I didn't think those increased your speed for no reason."
That answer got me "the look". Flashing his light into my face, he then asks me "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"
"Sadly, no" I respond. "I did try to get my beer, but it was so busy that I just forgot about it."
Here's a tip.. Never admit to a police officer that you even wanted a drink. Just that is enough of an excuse for what is about to follow...
Becuase of that answer, I got to have a nice pop-quiz sobriety check. Now, the tests aren't difficult, but I'm not the most coordinated guy sober.. Because of this, I was forced to blow into his portable breathalyzer.
After about 8 tries, I'm out of breath, and he's still thinking that I'm one drunk who knows how to hide that I've been drinking. I don't blow anything, I don't smell like alcohol, but I sure can't pass any of his tests..
Eventually, I resort to begging. "Look, I have to get home so that I can get into bed and possibly get 5 hours of sleep before I have to be to work in the morning. Can we please finish this?"
That gets me another look, and then something flashes in his eyes. "You're the DJ from the bar, aren't you?" he says.
I nod.
"You can go. Watch your speed."
At this, I just about lose it, but I compose myself enough to wait until he's gone before kicking, screaming, and trying to tear the headrest off of my passenger seat in frustration. After calling him and every other officer in the God-forsaken podunk town I'm stuck in every name in the book I could think of (and a couple of made-up ones too) I head for home.
25 miles later, I'm hearing harps ring. I'm seeing angels with fluffy white pillows and comfortable sheets beckoning to me. I'm nearly home!
Enter red and blue lights, take 2.
I pull the car over, and reach into the passenger seat for the information I'd left there after my last encounter.
The officer walks up to my window, looks me and my car over, and asks the famous words:
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
Answering quickly, I replied: "Because you forgot to ask over the radio if any of your other buddies had pulled me over earlier tonight?"
I blame this lack of self-control on being sleep deprived. My mouth tends to get me into some interesting situations.
"Please step out of the car, sir. Have you been drinking tonight?"
Oh joy...
Back before I got this awesome office job where I deal with every braindead creature on the face of the planet, I was a hard-working grunt who kept down three jobs.
One of these was working on the weekends as a DJ for a local bar. I'd get in around 6pm, set my stuff up, have a beer, then play music all night until closing at around 2am. Then I'd pack up my gear, and shove off for bed so that I could be up in time for my 8am shift.
This particular night was a busy one. The place was packed as soon as I walked in the door. I set my stuff up, and tried for a beer, but the bar was so crowded that I didn't bother.
Soon the joint was rocking, and I was having a grand time. All too soon, the time had come to tear down the equipment, and head for home.
Ears ringing, I set the cruise control, and relaxed a bit by blasting some screaming metal from the radio and rolling down my window.
Suddenly, I see red and blue lights behind me. Pulling over, I fish around and get my information.
The officer takes my info, and scans it all over, and then asks me that fatal question:
"Do you know why I pulled you over this evening?"
I take a few (8 or so) calming breaths. At this point, it's not a good idea to be a smartass to someone who can give you a FAT ticket.
"Not really, officer" I reply.
"I clocked you going 45 in a 35 zone" he says.
"That's strange" I answer. "I had my cruise control set, and I didn't think those increased your speed for no reason."
That answer got me "the look". Flashing his light into my face, he then asks me "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"
"Sadly, no" I respond. "I did try to get my beer, but it was so busy that I just forgot about it."
Here's a tip.. Never admit to a police officer that you even wanted a drink. Just that is enough of an excuse for what is about to follow...
Becuase of that answer, I got to have a nice pop-quiz sobriety check. Now, the tests aren't difficult, but I'm not the most coordinated guy sober.. Because of this, I was forced to blow into his portable breathalyzer.
After about 8 tries, I'm out of breath, and he's still thinking that I'm one drunk who knows how to hide that I've been drinking. I don't blow anything, I don't smell like alcohol, but I sure can't pass any of his tests..
Eventually, I resort to begging. "Look, I have to get home so that I can get into bed and possibly get 5 hours of sleep before I have to be to work in the morning. Can we please finish this?"
That gets me another look, and then something flashes in his eyes. "You're the DJ from the bar, aren't you?" he says.
I nod.
"You can go. Watch your speed."
At this, I just about lose it, but I compose myself enough to wait until he's gone before kicking, screaming, and trying to tear the headrest off of my passenger seat in frustration. After calling him and every other officer in the God-forsaken podunk town I'm stuck in every name in the book I could think of (and a couple of made-up ones too) I head for home.
25 miles later, I'm hearing harps ring. I'm seeing angels with fluffy white pillows and comfortable sheets beckoning to me. I'm nearly home!
Enter red and blue lights, take 2.
I pull the car over, and reach into the passenger seat for the information I'd left there after my last encounter.
The officer walks up to my window, looks me and my car over, and asks the famous words:
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
Answering quickly, I replied: "Because you forgot to ask over the radio if any of your other buddies had pulled me over earlier tonight?"
I blame this lack of self-control on being sleep deprived. My mouth tends to get me into some interesting situations.
"Please step out of the car, sir. Have you been drinking tonight?"
Oh joy...
Monday, September 15, 2008
Things that can piss me off.....
Today I "volunteered" to come into work for some overtime.
Now, I'm no saint. The main reason I agreed was because I like seeing my checks with that healthy extra chunk of change on payday. But I was also trying to help out a co-worker of mine who was behind on work.
The person in question had taken two days off of work for their anniversary, and one of the lovely and ingenious management staff didn't fill their position, so the work was left unfinished.
I volunteered to come in and help this person get caught up today.
NOT.. EVEN.. CLOSE....
I knew it was going to be bad when I pulled into the parking lot, and was already being asked to do things BEFORE I EVEN GOT IN THE FREAKING DOOR!
Give me a break people! I'm not even on the clock yet, and you're trying to tell me that you need something done?!?!
I tell you what.. Next time, buy a brain, and then it might work a little better than the last time you looked at it..
Needless to say, I wasn't able to help the person in question, plus the work I was hoping to get done is still piled up on my desk, and I'm in one really foul mood now....
I guess it pays to be smart, I just wish there were two or three others here that could help fill in from time to time..
I'm going home, and play some video games where I can blow the shit out of some stuff for a while.. Get all my hostile aggressions out before the wife and kids get home....
Now, I'm no saint. The main reason I agreed was because I like seeing my checks with that healthy extra chunk of change on payday. But I was also trying to help out a co-worker of mine who was behind on work.
The person in question had taken two days off of work for their anniversary, and one of the lovely and ingenious management staff didn't fill their position, so the work was left unfinished.
I volunteered to come in and help this person get caught up today.
NOT.. EVEN.. CLOSE....
I knew it was going to be bad when I pulled into the parking lot, and was already being asked to do things BEFORE I EVEN GOT IN THE FREAKING DOOR!
Give me a break people! I'm not even on the clock yet, and you're trying to tell me that you need something done?!?!
I tell you what.. Next time, buy a brain, and then it might work a little better than the last time you looked at it..
Needless to say, I wasn't able to help the person in question, plus the work I was hoping to get done is still piled up on my desk, and I'm in one really foul mood now....
I guess it pays to be smart, I just wish there were two or three others here that could help fill in from time to time..
I'm going home, and play some video games where I can blow the shit out of some stuff for a while.. Get all my hostile aggressions out before the wife and kids get home....
Friday, September 12, 2008
Puppy Love
Today, I'm going to talk about my dog.
Yes, my dog.
She's quite the little trooper! You see, when we first got her, we'd also had another puppy, and had decided that the other pup needed a playmate, so we got our Sassy as well.
Those two were hell on wheels. They would run, play, wrestle, and just have great fun together!
Oh, they are labs.. Roxy = Black Lab, Sassy = Yellow Lab.
Sad to say, just after turning 2 years old, Roxy was hit by a speeding car, and killed.
Now, we've just got Sassy, but she's coping well, and is actually becoming more of a character than she had been with Roxy with us!
Take last night for example:
I usually give Sassy a treat once I get home. She'll greet me at the door, I'll scratch her ears, give her a nice belly rub, and then she'll growl to me in her "puppy talk" about everything she did while I was gone.
After she's done, I'll ask her if she was good. If she hasn't been, she'll lie down, and I'll pet her, but she won't get a treat. If she has, she'll sit up, and look at me with that crooked dog head look (you know what I'm talking about!).
Oh, and she doesn't lie to me! We've actually tested it, and she's honest each and every time about if she's good or bad. There have been times where we're sure that she's been good, but she'll lay down instead. We find out later that something had been chewed on, or there's a minor potty stain somewhere in the house. This leads me to believe that as long as she's treated well and made to feel safe, she'll never be unfaithful to me or my family.
Anyway, back to my story!
On this day, I asked the question, and she sat up and watched me intently. Nodding, and praising her for being good, I went to the cupboard, and took down the treats. But this time, I decided to do something different.
The treats she really loves fit perfectly into one of her chew toys that we bought her called a Kong. So, I put two treats in the Kong, and gave it to her.
Normally, she just chews on her toys. This time? She was throwing it around in the air, growling at it, then pouncing, holding it in her mouth and strutting around the house with it, etc..
You'd think I'd given her a "Dog of the Year" award with the way she was acting!
Anyway, that's my story for today.
Nothing serious, no complaints about work, just telling a silly story..
Maybe next week I'll get back in form!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Something Serious
Today is a day of rememberance for me.
I recall driving to work, and turning on the radio to listen to a newscaster become hysterical with fear and grief.
I recall getting to work, and clustering around the TV with everyone else to watch in shocked horror at the pictures that were being sent from New York.
I recall that NOTHING got sold that day, but many folks became much closer than they had ever been before.
I recall the solidarity of the entire nation as we grieved, rebuilt, recovered, and grew.
Now?
It seems like a bad dream to many.
But I refuse to forget.
Maybe it's because I was one of the many volunteers who went there to help clear wreckage. Maybe it's because of the selfless sacrifice of life that many of the police and fire fighters who gave willingly to try to rescue just one more person. Maybe it's the horrific sight of people throwing themselves hundreds of feet to their death instead of waiting to burn alive.
It could be all these, and more.
Now? I see presidential candidates using this day to try to further their own selfish goals. I see newspeople predicting "threat levels" for terrorism attacks. I see memorials built, and some undone. What does it all mean?
For one: NOBODY should have the right to take any political gain from the massive loss of life that occured on that day. To do so severely diminishes their stature in my eyes.
Secondly: Terrorist threat levels? Is there really such a thing? I mean, if you were to gauge terrorist threat levels before 9/11, would you have put the US into the "Categoy 5" massive red level? Terrorism thrives off of attacking when and where you least expect it to be. So to try to measure that is just an exercise in futility.. Quit trying to quantify religious zealots, and just take care of the here and now.. Thank you very much.
Lastly: Why oh why aren't the towers either built, or the monuments finished?
It only takes a year or so to fully construct a massive tower. Yet it's taken seven years to have a partially constructed memorial built where the towers once stood. And now? It looks like they might be delayed again.. because of politics! Sure, the one in DC is done. Great.. It didn't have as much of an impact as New York. Sure, it wiped out part of the Pentagon, but really? It hit a hardened bunker, and basically took out a wall. That's considered a minor scratch in the grand scheme of things. So sure, I can see that small memorial being completed. I just can't understand what took so long for it to be completed.
Now for the towers? I tend to agree with my blog friend The Nemesing One. Those towers should have been rebuilt bigger and better than before. A basic flaunt-it-in-your-face flip-you-the-bird screw off and die statement to any power that thinks that it can knock us down with a nasty show of force. What did we do? We cowered. We cried. We considered. We argued. We denied. And now we're undecided.
All this does is show the folks who thrive on dealing terror is that we're susceptible to their attacks, and that if they really want to make an impact, they've got to make sure that it puts on a really good show for the news.
I thank God for the men and women who serve our country. I also thank the men and women who put their lives on the line to rescue us in our times of need.
But I have to condemn our men and women who are put in positions of authority when they bicker, make deals, and downplay the sacrifice and dedication of these people if to do nothing but make themselves and their "careers" look better.
Do what's right.
Remember this day, and give it the respect it's due.
I recall driving to work, and turning on the radio to listen to a newscaster become hysterical with fear and grief.
I recall getting to work, and clustering around the TV with everyone else to watch in shocked horror at the pictures that were being sent from New York.
I recall that NOTHING got sold that day, but many folks became much closer than they had ever been before.
I recall the solidarity of the entire nation as we grieved, rebuilt, recovered, and grew.
Now?
It seems like a bad dream to many.
But I refuse to forget.
Maybe it's because I was one of the many volunteers who went there to help clear wreckage. Maybe it's because of the selfless sacrifice of life that many of the police and fire fighters who gave willingly to try to rescue just one more person. Maybe it's the horrific sight of people throwing themselves hundreds of feet to their death instead of waiting to burn alive.
It could be all these, and more.
Now? I see presidential candidates using this day to try to further their own selfish goals. I see newspeople predicting "threat levels" for terrorism attacks. I see memorials built, and some undone. What does it all mean?
For one: NOBODY should have the right to take any political gain from the massive loss of life that occured on that day. To do so severely diminishes their stature in my eyes.
Secondly: Terrorist threat levels? Is there really such a thing? I mean, if you were to gauge terrorist threat levels before 9/11, would you have put the US into the "Categoy 5" massive red level? Terrorism thrives off of attacking when and where you least expect it to be. So to try to measure that is just an exercise in futility.. Quit trying to quantify religious zealots, and just take care of the here and now.. Thank you very much.
Lastly: Why oh why aren't the towers either built, or the monuments finished?
It only takes a year or so to fully construct a massive tower. Yet it's taken seven years to have a partially constructed memorial built where the towers once stood. And now? It looks like they might be delayed again.. because of politics! Sure, the one in DC is done. Great.. It didn't have as much of an impact as New York. Sure, it wiped out part of the Pentagon, but really? It hit a hardened bunker, and basically took out a wall. That's considered a minor scratch in the grand scheme of things. So sure, I can see that small memorial being completed. I just can't understand what took so long for it to be completed.
Now for the towers? I tend to agree with my blog friend The Nemesing One. Those towers should have been rebuilt bigger and better than before. A basic flaunt-it-in-your-face flip-you-the-bird screw off and die statement to any power that thinks that it can knock us down with a nasty show of force. What did we do? We cowered. We cried. We considered. We argued. We denied. And now we're undecided.
All this does is show the folks who thrive on dealing terror is that we're susceptible to their attacks, and that if they really want to make an impact, they've got to make sure that it puts on a really good show for the news.
I thank God for the men and women who serve our country. I also thank the men and women who put their lives on the line to rescue us in our times of need.
But I have to condemn our men and women who are put in positions of authority when they bicker, make deals, and downplay the sacrifice and dedication of these people if to do nothing but make themselves and their "careers" look better.
Do what's right.
Remember this day, and give it the respect it's due.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
More Ponderings and Panderings..
Well, yesterday I was talking about my wife and her dreams...
Today, I think I'll talk about... Politics!
It seems like everyone is jumping on the bandwagon, and screaming about who they think would be the best fit for the US's next President...
Me? I say let my 7 year old run the country.. He's not going to lie to you, he's going to be bluntly and painfully honest about his opinion, and he's going to respect and value the advice he's given.
However, he's also going to throw temper tantrums, be stubborn, fuss, and want his way.. But that's something we've seen and dealt with in presidents that are over 5 times his age!
I don't mind voting. Hell, I don't mind listening to some of their speeches.
What I _do_ mind is all of the finger pointing, and name calling, and mudslinging that follows during the election campaign.
Who is going to outmanuver whom? Was deciding to remain "neutral" during a recent hot topic a wise idea? Is the candidate black, white, asian, hispanic, etc?
Who cares??
What I want to know is this:
Does ANYONE really know how well they're going to do when they get into the office?
The answer: Plain and simply.. NO. Sorry, but NO.
You never know what kind of hardships, or outside influences are going to put even more pressure on a high-profile position like this. You don't know what groups are going to take offense at something you do (or don't do), and then lobby to have you impeached. You just don't know! There's no kind of forecast that is going to be able to take in all of the variables, so there's no way in hell that you're going to be able to tell me that this person is better suited than that one.
The one thing that I listen to in all of this is simple:
Who tries to let their experience show by just letting their history speak for itself? Don't get some publicist to start trumpeting all of your great accomplishments, and downplay your mistakes. If anything, downplay your success, and show how you overcame your mistakes. That would impress me even more!
If anything, I could trust that my 7 year old would know this one! Humility is something I've been trying to teach my kids (mainly because I tend to brag too much, and I'm quite outspoken). Be humble about what you're able to do, but be firm and resolute about how you can handle anything that gets thrown at you. If you fail, work to fix it. Improve at what you're weakest at, and you'll become that much more of a better person for it. Then when something of that nature comes along again, you'll be better able to handle what it throws at you the next time.
Anyway, I'm done with this rant.
For this election, I'm voting for my kids. I think they'll be able to do the job, and maybe make less of a mess than the last 2 presidents have done..
Today, I think I'll talk about... Politics!
It seems like everyone is jumping on the bandwagon, and screaming about who they think would be the best fit for the US's next President...
Me? I say let my 7 year old run the country.. He's not going to lie to you, he's going to be bluntly and painfully honest about his opinion, and he's going to respect and value the advice he's given.
However, he's also going to throw temper tantrums, be stubborn, fuss, and want his way.. But that's something we've seen and dealt with in presidents that are over 5 times his age!
I don't mind voting. Hell, I don't mind listening to some of their speeches.
What I _do_ mind is all of the finger pointing, and name calling, and mudslinging that follows during the election campaign.
Who is going to outmanuver whom? Was deciding to remain "neutral" during a recent hot topic a wise idea? Is the candidate black, white, asian, hispanic, etc?
Who cares??
What I want to know is this:
Does ANYONE really know how well they're going to do when they get into the office?
The answer: Plain and simply.. NO. Sorry, but NO.
You never know what kind of hardships, or outside influences are going to put even more pressure on a high-profile position like this. You don't know what groups are going to take offense at something you do (or don't do), and then lobby to have you impeached. You just don't know! There's no kind of forecast that is going to be able to take in all of the variables, so there's no way in hell that you're going to be able to tell me that this person is better suited than that one.
The one thing that I listen to in all of this is simple:
Who tries to let their experience show by just letting their history speak for itself? Don't get some publicist to start trumpeting all of your great accomplishments, and downplay your mistakes. If anything, downplay your success, and show how you overcame your mistakes. That would impress me even more!
If anything, I could trust that my 7 year old would know this one! Humility is something I've been trying to teach my kids (mainly because I tend to brag too much, and I'm quite outspoken). Be humble about what you're able to do, but be firm and resolute about how you can handle anything that gets thrown at you. If you fail, work to fix it. Improve at what you're weakest at, and you'll become that much more of a better person for it. Then when something of that nature comes along again, you'll be better able to handle what it throws at you the next time.
Anyway, I'm done with this rant.
For this election, I'm voting for my kids. I think they'll be able to do the job, and maybe make less of a mess than the last 2 presidents have done..
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
And Now For Something Completely Different...
Usually, I rant and rave about work..
Not today.
I'm married, (again) and I love my wife. But there are some things about her that just defy all logic and nature to me.
One of these is her psychotic dreams.
Let me give you an example:
This morning I was able to wake up next to Satan himself. Why? Because my lovely wife dreamt that I was sleeping not only with her, but with her two best friends as well. This pissed her off so badly that she woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep. During this time, she was considering all the many different ways to kill me slowly and painfully.
Now, I normally get up around 3:30am for work. She doesn't have to be up until around 7am. So imagine my surprise when I'm walking into the living room, and I'm seeing my wife sitting on the couch, her head rotating on her shoulders, smoke, fire, and brimstone shooting out of her eyes ears mouth and nose!
Needless to say, I must have done SOMETHING good in a previous life, because I was still live at this point.
Anyway, she proceeded to confront me over my "affairs", and told me to admit to them..
What? REALLY?
I'm sorry, but I must have forgotten to keep my ticket for the reality train, and I'm still stuck here in la-la land... Give me a second, and I'll wake up.
I pinch myself.. Nope, I'm awake, and this is really happening.
Sad to say, I had to decline the offer, and we had a nice chance to bond (argue) over me and my indiscretions while I'm in her brain.
Now I don't know about the rest of you, but if you were able to control your actions while someone else was thinking of you, how would you react?
Me? I know that I can only control what I myself do, so I told her to stop dreaming about me, and everything would be fine.
Um, remind me next time that this ISN'T the best idea to tell a sleep-deprived woman.
So now, I've got an upset wife, a pissed off wife, and a frustrated psyche to deal with today.
Joy oh freaking joy! I must remember to buy a lottery ticket, because all of the wierd crap is coming to me today.
Next time, I think I'll talk about my great ability in talking with women, and knowing exactly what to say to set them off..
Until then, I'm out.
Not today.
I'm married, (again) and I love my wife. But there are some things about her that just defy all logic and nature to me.
One of these is her psychotic dreams.
Let me give you an example:
This morning I was able to wake up next to Satan himself. Why? Because my lovely wife dreamt that I was sleeping not only with her, but with her two best friends as well. This pissed her off so badly that she woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep. During this time, she was considering all the many different ways to kill me slowly and painfully.
Now, I normally get up around 3:30am for work. She doesn't have to be up until around 7am. So imagine my surprise when I'm walking into the living room, and I'm seeing my wife sitting on the couch, her head rotating on her shoulders, smoke, fire, and brimstone shooting out of her eyes ears mouth and nose!
Needless to say, I must have done SOMETHING good in a previous life, because I was still live at this point.
Anyway, she proceeded to confront me over my "affairs", and told me to admit to them..
What? REALLY?
I'm sorry, but I must have forgotten to keep my ticket for the reality train, and I'm still stuck here in la-la land... Give me a second, and I'll wake up.
I pinch myself.. Nope, I'm awake, and this is really happening.
Sad to say, I had to decline the offer, and we had a nice chance to bond (argue) over me and my indiscretions while I'm in her brain.
Now I don't know about the rest of you, but if you were able to control your actions while someone else was thinking of you, how would you react?
Me? I know that I can only control what I myself do, so I told her to stop dreaming about me, and everything would be fine.
Um, remind me next time that this ISN'T the best idea to tell a sleep-deprived woman.
So now, I've got an upset wife, a pissed off wife, and a frustrated psyche to deal with today.
Joy oh freaking joy! I must remember to buy a lottery ticket, because all of the wierd crap is coming to me today.
Next time, I think I'll talk about my great ability in talking with women, and knowing exactly what to say to set them off..
Until then, I'm out.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Why I hate the news..
I hate the news.
All of it.
I can't stand listening to it, but I need to hear some of it just to know what the fuck is going on in the world, you know??
But what REALLY got me going was the news that happened this last weekend, and is now (again!) being spun off THIS weekend!
Is it just me, or did the Gulf not have hurricanes before *cue angelic music* Hurricane Katrina?
I mean, now every time the wind blows over 5 miles an hour down there, newscasters are jumping on and claiming that this new front and storm could resemble *cue music* Katrina...
It really set me off last Labor Day weekend when my family and I went with the "rest" of my family to the beach for a nice mini-reunion and getaway.
That didn't stop my newsfiend uncle from turning on the freaking TV every half hour to watch CNN or MSNBC or FoxNews in order to listen to Hurricane Gustav, or the Democratic Primaries, or predictions about the Republican Convention, etc...
Listening to them drool over Gustav headed to the gulf coast, and that it was going to be "similar to Katrina" in every way got me pissed.
I spoke out, and made a bet with each and every person in there that Gustav wouldn't so much as blow over a tree.
I was a pretty rich fella leaving the beach this weekend.
Now, I don't care about the "spin" newscasters feel they need to put on each piece of news they get, but GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!!
I mean, if you really feel that you need to sensationalize the news in order to get folks to watch, then you really need to get into a new line of work. Just tell me what has been going on, then shut up, and move on. Don't give me background on who is telling me the story, don't try to compare it with everything else BAD that has happened in history, NADA. Just give me the story, and get out. The check will be in the mail. Thanks.. Bbye.
Anyone else feel like the news is spun only to entertain those who don't have a brain?
I mean, listening to those newscasters talking about the Democrats Convention and the Republican Convention reminds me of nothing more than two housewives leaning on the fence and gossiping about the neighbors..
Let me make my own decision about who is going to try to screw up my country next, and don't try to influence me with your own pick for loser, ok?
Thanks. See ya.
Anyway, my vent here is done..
I'm out.
All of it.
I can't stand listening to it, but I need to hear some of it just to know what the fuck is going on in the world, you know??
But what REALLY got me going was the news that happened this last weekend, and is now (again!) being spun off THIS weekend!
Is it just me, or did the Gulf not have hurricanes before *cue angelic music* Hurricane Katrina?
I mean, now every time the wind blows over 5 miles an hour down there, newscasters are jumping on and claiming that this new front and storm could resemble *cue music* Katrina...
It really set me off last Labor Day weekend when my family and I went with the "rest" of my family to the beach for a nice mini-reunion and getaway.
That didn't stop my newsfiend uncle from turning on the freaking TV every half hour to watch CNN or MSNBC or FoxNews in order to listen to Hurricane Gustav, or the Democratic Primaries, or predictions about the Republican Convention, etc...
Listening to them drool over Gustav headed to the gulf coast, and that it was going to be "similar to Katrina" in every way got me pissed.
I spoke out, and made a bet with each and every person in there that Gustav wouldn't so much as blow over a tree.
I was a pretty rich fella leaving the beach this weekend.
Now, I don't care about the "spin" newscasters feel they need to put on each piece of news they get, but GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!!
I mean, if you really feel that you need to sensationalize the news in order to get folks to watch, then you really need to get into a new line of work. Just tell me what has been going on, then shut up, and move on. Don't give me background on who is telling me the story, don't try to compare it with everything else BAD that has happened in history, NADA. Just give me the story, and get out. The check will be in the mail. Thanks.. Bbye.
Anyone else feel like the news is spun only to entertain those who don't have a brain?
I mean, listening to those newscasters talking about the Democrats Convention and the Republican Convention reminds me of nothing more than two housewives leaning on the fence and gossiping about the neighbors..
Let me make my own decision about who is going to try to screw up my country next, and don't try to influence me with your own pick for loser, ok?
Thanks. See ya.
Anyway, my vent here is done..
I'm out.
The Friday Bitch session
OK.
First off, since I'm new to the blogging scene, I'm going to warn you that Fridays seem to be the one time of the week when everything that can go wrong at my work DOES.
Not only that, but every single person in the place seems to be able to find my last nerve, and chew it to pieces.
Maybe it's because of the stress of the week, maybe it's my manopause, maybe I'm just hormonal, or tempermental, or maybe I internalize things too much..
NAH
I just hate dumb-assed co-workers.
Let's see what's set me off this week...
AH! Number one on by bitch list:
Have you ever had the joy of working with a supervisor who insists on acting like a spoiled child with nothing better to do than make your life a living hell?
I have. He works in a department that I have to visit often, and he makes sure to try to piss me off at least 10 times a day. (yes, I've kept track. it's averaging about 11, but he does hit the 10 mark quite often)
The best one yet was the one he pulled that got ME in trouble..
I'll tell you the story, and see what you think.
My day started by getting called to his desk to "fix" an issue with his email. Turns out that the only thing wrong with it was that Captain Oblivious somehow forgot what his password was, and couldn't get into the program. Easy fix. I enter with my superuser account, reset the password to the default, and everything's good. Well, it should have been. Until he calls again in 5 minutes to say that his email STILL isn't working. I go back, open the email, enter the default password, and VOILA! There's his email. "That's not MY password!" he screams at me.. Yes. SCREAMS. "You need to fix that, and make it my old password, or we're going to have some issues.. Understand?"
Now, I'm a pretty laid-back kind of guy. But when someone raises their voice to me, and tells me that I'm not doing my job correctly, I get pissy.. FAST.
However, I surprised myself by just nodding, changing his password, and getting out of his office in 5 minutes (possibly less). Needless to say, I went to my office, found something breakable, and proceeded to demolish it to teeny tiny pieces for a while.
About an hour later I got a call to return to that area for a audit of a shipment being sent out.
Now, I work in a distribution center, and it's freaking HUGE. The building itself is nearly 1 million square feet of storage space, and the dock in question happens to sit right outside my office. The problem with this is that I'm the only IT guy in the building, so I tend to be on the move most of the time. Usually when I get these kind of calls, I'm stuck on the complete OPPOSITE end of the building, and it takes a while to get back to where I am supposed to be. This was the exact case in this circumstance. I was on the South side of the building fixing a mounted scanner when the call came in for me to do my audit.
I returned the call, and informed the super that as soon as I was done (about 2 minutes) that I would be there next. 5 minutes later, I'm at the dock, and I'm in process of starting my audit when he comes by, grabs my upper arm, walks me over to the wall, and proceeds to chew me out over not being there more quickly. Apparently my priorities aren't in the right place, and I need to readjust my focus on what is really important in this building.
Now. I'm still at a slow boil from the last chewing I got, so this one got my temper bubbling. I got really close to him, and told him that if he had a problem with my work, he could take it up with the General Manager, and the three of us could have a nice, little talk. Until that time, he needed to back off, and let me get my work done. I then turned my back on him, and continued with my work.
The point of all this is coming.. don't get impatient with me!
Now I'll explain a little more before I finish. My audit consists of tearing down pallets of product being sent to the store. I break down the pallet, verify that the correct stuff is going to the store, and then make sure it's loaded onto the truck trailer for delivery.
This is where the camel's back got broken.
I found a pallet that was NOT supposed to be for the store I was auditing. Genious #2 had put the pallet in with the wrong store, and hadn't bothered to check what correct trailer it was supposed to be going to. Not only that, but the pallet was so badly built that it looked more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and not a pallet of product!
I, in my infinite wisdom, decided that I would have to at least break the pallet down into two pallets (to keep it from falling over), and then also put said pallets into the correct trailer.
As I'm doing this, my favorite super decides to come by and repeat EXACTLY what I told you I was going to do with the pallet.
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded, and kept about my work. I sent one of the loaders over to find out what trailer the pallets needed to go to, and kept working. The loader came back, informed me about where it needed to go, and we finished divvying up the pallet. It was at this time that Mr. Wonderful came back. In his infinite grace and tact, he stood there, hands on hips, and asked me "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Moving these two pallets to the correct trailer. They don't belong to this store."
Mr. Wonderful: "Do I have to show you how to do your job, or are you going to actually start working?"
Me: "No, I'm fine thanks. Just getting this done so that I can finish the audit."
Mr. Fantastic: "You're such a child. This should have been done a LONG time ago. You and I need to have a talk!"
Captain Fantastic then throws his clipboard and papers to the floor, storms over, pushes me out of the way, and proceeds to move TWO boxes before saying that the pallets are done, and they need to be moved to the correct trailer.
Me? I've had enough.
"Excuse me, but next time you think I need to be told how to do my job, you can fuck off!" I politely yell at Captain Wonderful.
"Don't raise your voice at me," Warns the lovely super. "You don't want to go there"
I step close, nearly nose to nose, and menacingly growl "Don't treat me like a fucking idiot, and we'll be fine. Next time you feel like I need to be told what to do, keep your opinion to yourself."
Captain Wonderful steps back, glares at me, the bends over, picks up his clipbaord and papers, and leaves the trailer.
Now, I'm not stupid. I know for a fact that he's now on his way to tattle about how mean and evil I am. Because of this, I pull out the "Cover your ass" manual, and report what happened to my Supervisor.
"Nothing to worry about" my manager assures me. "You were provoked, so there's nothing he can do to you. There were witnesses, and his behavior is unacceptable. Just finish your work, and ignore him."
Reassured by this, I go back, and finish my work. I even manage to avoid the wonderful super for the rest of the day.
Fast forward to yesterday.
I get a call from my manager asking me to come to his office. I walk in, and Captain Brave is there, along with the Human Resources manager (complete bitch with no clue what happens in the building) and my manager.
Little Miss "My stuff don't stink, because you all love me" tells me to sit.
"I hope you realize that what you did yesterday could cost you your job" she tells me.
"What's that? Telling someone to behave like someone in management instead of daycare?" I ask innocently. (this gets me a really great glare from The Captain)
"That was uncalled for. You're awfully insubordinate to the managers here." She tells me sweetly.
"Not really," I reply. "I just seem to have problems with one of you, and he's standing right over there." I point to Ratman. "I mean, you'd think that if I really had insubordination problems it wouldn't be just one person, I'd at least rant and rave at two or three of you. My problem comes from the fact that this one here thinks that I can't do my job unless he's there to not only hold my hand, but tell me exactly what steps to take, and then proceeds to throw temper tantrums if things aren't done his way." I inform her.
"Don't change the subject here" she tells me. "This is about you respecting those in authority over you. Asswipe (name changed to protect the prick) here has been put in a position of authority, and you must follow his instructions and respect his decisions."
"How can I respect someone who belittles me, and thinks that he's the only one with a brain?" I exclaim. "How can I respect someone who throws temper tantrums at work, yells at associates, threatens folks, and basically makes this place a shitty work environment? The answer is that I can't, and I won't." I tell her.
"I'm sorry you feel that way" she answers. "Because of this, we're putting in your record a notice of insubordination. You'll be on thin ice for the next six months. Please don't do anything to aggravate this, or you could very well lose your job."
She and Asswipe then leave. My steadfast manager waits for the door to close, then hands me the papers to sign. I look over at him, he refuses to make eye contact.
"I was right in what I did, and I'm not going to apologize for my conduct" I tell him.
"Don't make this worse" he tells me. "Just do what they ask, and in six months, you can tell him to fuck off again"
I grin a bit, but I shake my head. "This one's going to wait for a couple of weeks. I know that the corporate folks are going to be here soon, and I want them to look this over before I "admit" to anything."
My manager blinks, then a slight smile crosses his face. "I think you've got a great idea there" he says.
What do you think??
Should I take asswipe to the mats?
Should I just give over, let it slide, and then keep all this aggression over six months and let fly again once the heat's down?
Or should I tell them all to kiss my balls, and find a better place to work?(Not that I'll seriously leave before I've gotten work, but I might listen to some interesting ideas!)
Speak up, let me know what you think, and I'll be back Tuesday with another rant and rave from the paradise that is my workplace!
First off, since I'm new to the blogging scene, I'm going to warn you that Fridays seem to be the one time of the week when everything that can go wrong at my work DOES.
Not only that, but every single person in the place seems to be able to find my last nerve, and chew it to pieces.
Maybe it's because of the stress of the week, maybe it's my manopause, maybe I'm just hormonal, or tempermental, or maybe I internalize things too much..
NAH
I just hate dumb-assed co-workers.
Let's see what's set me off this week...
AH! Number one on by bitch list:
Have you ever had the joy of working with a supervisor who insists on acting like a spoiled child with nothing better to do than make your life a living hell?
I have. He works in a department that I have to visit often, and he makes sure to try to piss me off at least 10 times a day. (yes, I've kept track. it's averaging about 11, but he does hit the 10 mark quite often)
The best one yet was the one he pulled that got ME in trouble..
I'll tell you the story, and see what you think.
My day started by getting called to his desk to "fix" an issue with his email. Turns out that the only thing wrong with it was that Captain Oblivious somehow forgot what his password was, and couldn't get into the program. Easy fix. I enter with my superuser account, reset the password to the default, and everything's good. Well, it should have been. Until he calls again in 5 minutes to say that his email STILL isn't working. I go back, open the email, enter the default password, and VOILA! There's his email. "That's not MY password!" he screams at me.. Yes. SCREAMS. "You need to fix that, and make it my old password, or we're going to have some issues.. Understand?"
Now, I'm a pretty laid-back kind of guy. But when someone raises their voice to me, and tells me that I'm not doing my job correctly, I get pissy.. FAST.
However, I surprised myself by just nodding, changing his password, and getting out of his office in 5 minutes (possibly less). Needless to say, I went to my office, found something breakable, and proceeded to demolish it to teeny tiny pieces for a while.
About an hour later I got a call to return to that area for a audit of a shipment being sent out.
Now, I work in a distribution center, and it's freaking HUGE. The building itself is nearly 1 million square feet of storage space, and the dock in question happens to sit right outside my office. The problem with this is that I'm the only IT guy in the building, so I tend to be on the move most of the time. Usually when I get these kind of calls, I'm stuck on the complete OPPOSITE end of the building, and it takes a while to get back to where I am supposed to be. This was the exact case in this circumstance. I was on the South side of the building fixing a mounted scanner when the call came in for me to do my audit.
I returned the call, and informed the super that as soon as I was done (about 2 minutes) that I would be there next. 5 minutes later, I'm at the dock, and I'm in process of starting my audit when he comes by, grabs my upper arm, walks me over to the wall, and proceeds to chew me out over not being there more quickly. Apparently my priorities aren't in the right place, and I need to readjust my focus on what is really important in this building.
Now. I'm still at a slow boil from the last chewing I got, so this one got my temper bubbling. I got really close to him, and told him that if he had a problem with my work, he could take it up with the General Manager, and the three of us could have a nice, little talk. Until that time, he needed to back off, and let me get my work done. I then turned my back on him, and continued with my work.
The point of all this is coming.. don't get impatient with me!
Now I'll explain a little more before I finish. My audit consists of tearing down pallets of product being sent to the store. I break down the pallet, verify that the correct stuff is going to the store, and then make sure it's loaded onto the truck trailer for delivery.
This is where the camel's back got broken.
I found a pallet that was NOT supposed to be for the store I was auditing. Genious #2 had put the pallet in with the wrong store, and hadn't bothered to check what correct trailer it was supposed to be going to. Not only that, but the pallet was so badly built that it looked more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and not a pallet of product!
I, in my infinite wisdom, decided that I would have to at least break the pallet down into two pallets (to keep it from falling over), and then also put said pallets into the correct trailer.
As I'm doing this, my favorite super decides to come by and repeat EXACTLY what I told you I was going to do with the pallet.
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded, and kept about my work. I sent one of the loaders over to find out what trailer the pallets needed to go to, and kept working. The loader came back, informed me about where it needed to go, and we finished divvying up the pallet. It was at this time that Mr. Wonderful came back. In his infinite grace and tact, he stood there, hands on hips, and asked me "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Moving these two pallets to the correct trailer. They don't belong to this store."
Mr. Wonderful: "Do I have to show you how to do your job, or are you going to actually start working?"
Me: "No, I'm fine thanks. Just getting this done so that I can finish the audit."
Mr. Fantastic: "You're such a child. This should have been done a LONG time ago. You and I need to have a talk!"
Captain Fantastic then throws his clipboard and papers to the floor, storms over, pushes me out of the way, and proceeds to move TWO boxes before saying that the pallets are done, and they need to be moved to the correct trailer.
Me? I've had enough.
"Excuse me, but next time you think I need to be told how to do my job, you can fuck off!" I politely yell at Captain Wonderful.
"Don't raise your voice at me," Warns the lovely super. "You don't want to go there"
I step close, nearly nose to nose, and menacingly growl "Don't treat me like a fucking idiot, and we'll be fine. Next time you feel like I need to be told what to do, keep your opinion to yourself."
Captain Wonderful steps back, glares at me, the bends over, picks up his clipbaord and papers, and leaves the trailer.
Now, I'm not stupid. I know for a fact that he's now on his way to tattle about how mean and evil I am. Because of this, I pull out the "Cover your ass" manual, and report what happened to my Supervisor.
"Nothing to worry about" my manager assures me. "You were provoked, so there's nothing he can do to you. There were witnesses, and his behavior is unacceptable. Just finish your work, and ignore him."
Reassured by this, I go back, and finish my work. I even manage to avoid the wonderful super for the rest of the day.
Fast forward to yesterday.
I get a call from my manager asking me to come to his office. I walk in, and Captain Brave is there, along with the Human Resources manager (complete bitch with no clue what happens in the building) and my manager.
Little Miss "My stuff don't stink, because you all love me" tells me to sit.
"I hope you realize that what you did yesterday could cost you your job" she tells me.
"What's that? Telling someone to behave like someone in management instead of daycare?" I ask innocently. (this gets me a really great glare from The Captain)
"That was uncalled for. You're awfully insubordinate to the managers here." She tells me sweetly.
"Not really," I reply. "I just seem to have problems with one of you, and he's standing right over there." I point to Ratman. "I mean, you'd think that if I really had insubordination problems it wouldn't be just one person, I'd at least rant and rave at two or three of you. My problem comes from the fact that this one here thinks that I can't do my job unless he's there to not only hold my hand, but tell me exactly what steps to take, and then proceeds to throw temper tantrums if things aren't done his way." I inform her.
"Don't change the subject here" she tells me. "This is about you respecting those in authority over you. Asswipe (name changed to protect the prick) here has been put in a position of authority, and you must follow his instructions and respect his decisions."
"How can I respect someone who belittles me, and thinks that he's the only one with a brain?" I exclaim. "How can I respect someone who throws temper tantrums at work, yells at associates, threatens folks, and basically makes this place a shitty work environment? The answer is that I can't, and I won't." I tell her.
"I'm sorry you feel that way" she answers. "Because of this, we're putting in your record a notice of insubordination. You'll be on thin ice for the next six months. Please don't do anything to aggravate this, or you could very well lose your job."
She and Asswipe then leave. My steadfast manager waits for the door to close, then hands me the papers to sign. I look over at him, he refuses to make eye contact.
"I was right in what I did, and I'm not going to apologize for my conduct" I tell him.
"Don't make this worse" he tells me. "Just do what they ask, and in six months, you can tell him to fuck off again"
I grin a bit, but I shake my head. "This one's going to wait for a couple of weeks. I know that the corporate folks are going to be here soon, and I want them to look this over before I "admit" to anything."
My manager blinks, then a slight smile crosses his face. "I think you've got a great idea there" he says.
What do you think??
Should I take asswipe to the mats?
Should I just give over, let it slide, and then keep all this aggression over six months and let fly again once the heat's down?
Or should I tell them all to kiss my balls, and find a better place to work?(Not that I'll seriously leave before I've gotten work, but I might listen to some interesting ideas!)
Speak up, let me know what you think, and I'll be back Tuesday with another rant and rave from the paradise that is my workplace!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I went to school for this??
I don't know about you all, but I'm really getting tired of some folks that are put "in authority" over me.
I mean, come on now people! How difficult is it to check and see if you've got something plugged in???
Here's the latest and greatest from my "special" management folks.
I went on vacation this weekend, and took an extra day off on Friday just to ENJOY my weekend.
I got back in on Tuesday to find a note taped to my monitor. It read:
"Printer in *x* room is broken. Can't get it to run. Please fix ASAP"
Now, this printer had been working just fine when I left that Thursday, so already alarm bells are ringing in my head.
I decide to go down, and see what the problem is. I walk in, turn it on, and am nearly buried alive under the amount of paper that suddenly spits out of the damn thing! There was so much stuff waiting to be printed, that I had to get a second case of paper just to let the poor thing finish!
Next time, I think I need to show these geniouses just how to operate the equipment correctly.
First, you start by pressing that nifty button that says.. "ON"!
Now, I know, I know, some folks can't be bothered with this.. But really.. REALLY? You are going to tell me that NOBODY thought to see if the power was on before telling me that it was broken?
I really need to renegociate my wage. That way, I can bill stupidity calls at triple time. It might get a few dumbasses fired, and make my paychecks seem that much better!
Anyway, that's my angry rant for today. Have a good one, and don't forget to check that power button!
I mean, come on now people! How difficult is it to check and see if you've got something plugged in???
Here's the latest and greatest from my "special" management folks.
I went on vacation this weekend, and took an extra day off on Friday just to ENJOY my weekend.
I got back in on Tuesday to find a note taped to my monitor. It read:
"Printer in *x* room is broken. Can't get it to run. Please fix ASAP"
Now, this printer had been working just fine when I left that Thursday, so already alarm bells are ringing in my head.
I decide to go down, and see what the problem is. I walk in, turn it on, and am nearly buried alive under the amount of paper that suddenly spits out of the damn thing! There was so much stuff waiting to be printed, that I had to get a second case of paper just to let the poor thing finish!
Next time, I think I need to show these geniouses just how to operate the equipment correctly.
First, you start by pressing that nifty button that says.. "ON"!
Now, I know, I know, some folks can't be bothered with this.. But really.. REALLY? You are going to tell me that NOBODY thought to see if the power was on before telling me that it was broken?
I really need to renegociate my wage. That way, I can bill stupidity calls at triple time. It might get a few dumbasses fired, and make my paychecks seem that much better!
Anyway, that's my angry rant for today. Have a good one, and don't forget to check that power button!
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