It is a sad day friends, a sad day for us all. What was once a pleasant, mutually beneficial arrangement has become a yolk around my neck. It has come to my attention that certain people who, for some reason or another, feel entitled to my time, may have begun to suspect that I how can I put this diplomatically, don't do very much all day. We shall, for the sake of brevity, refer to these people as 'my bosses'. Accordingly, today's post is actually being written in what has, heretofore, been a part of my day unsullied by something as menial as blogging, my free time.
As many of you know yesterday, two days ago if we use your point of view, Starbucks, home of the $3.25 cup of warm apple juice with a squirt of caramel, closed its doors for three hours to retrain its Baristas (a.k.a. people who smile way more than anyone wearing a baseball cap to work ever should). This was apparently problematic to some for, as Alba Morales, a community college student remark "A lot of of people come here to make out, read sleep. I can't imagine how lost people will be." So you can imagine my surprise when I went to work today (yesterday) and didn't find horny, book carrying, narcoleptic college students walking around with those big tourists map Japanese people use to stop sidewalk traffic. They weren't roaming from coffee shop to cafe hoping to find an African blend with just the right amount of mumbo jumbo about hints, notes and aromas (try our mid-African blend with a hint of tobacco, as well as notes of cinnamon and chicory. The aroma alone will leave you craving a second cup.). NO, they just hung around not reading, sleeping, or making out, and waited for Starbucks to reopen.
All of this is a long way of saying are we dumb? We're willing to pay 3 bucks for coffee and glorified hot cocoa because there are couches on which we can read make out and sleep, simultaneously even, if you drop a mickey into someone's machiatto. Are we really convinced that no one else in all of NY city knows how to make an espresso? And if not, why the hell do we wait? I guess the answer is (I'm guessing cuz I've only given this about 4 minutes of thought), we are creatures of comfort. We are willing to pay more for leisure than we are value.
Look at the evidence. We pick out coffins with cushioned interiors lined in velvet and satin because the thought of being trapped in the same uncomfortable bed forever is so incredibly contrary to our nature that it even blinds us to the fact that when the time to use it rolls around we're, you know, dead. We have dress pants that stretch as you stuff your face (the comfort fit waist band adjusts with your body). We pay hundreds of dollars more for a flight so that we can recline our seat and put our arms on both arm rests simultaneously (By the way don't you hate it when your at the movies and the people on each side of you each steal on of your arm rests? Then you have to spend the whole movie with your shoulders all hunched forward, hoping and waiting for the moment when they move their arm and you can strike, cobra-like, with a forearm to the cushion and claim that 3 inches of upholstered foam your own. There should be some sort of binding arbitration you can enter into to avoid the problems caused by the one guy hogging two arm rests. Also, this is why you should never got to the movies alone, at least if you have a friend you know that if all else fails, you can always steal their arm rest.) We even have comfort food. Though now that I think about Ms. Morales' comment I'm forced to wonder if the draw of comfort food is the promise that somewhere out there someone else is craving chili, and, if the seats are comfortable enough, she will make out with you.
Feb 27, 2008
Feb 24, 2008
...THE GROUCH
I like starting my week off by defying expectations. I find it adds a certain measure of uncertainty to what is otherwise a tedious and repetitive slog. Granted, in this case, your expectations were the result of my telling you today's column would be a 'Top Five Things That Bother Me', so in actuality it's more like starting the week out with a lie, but that's close, and as they say at Congressional hearings; if you can call it something other than a lie there's a chance you won't go to jail for perjury.
That being said, today's column will be a bit of a catch-all, a rambling rant on the Oscar's. Yes, I'm counting the Oscar's as current events, I, and every other person between the ages of 30 and 15 count anything with John Stewart as current events.
So let me tell you what bothers me about awards shows. No, I don't care, I'm gonna tell you anyway. What bothers me about award shows is the underlying lie. What lie you ask? Good question, see I told you you'd get into it. Normally, an award is the result of some demonstrable achievement, you ran the fastest race, you scored the highest mark, you slept with the most men, whatever. And so, the anticipation, the tension that precedes the distribution of said award, is present not during the handing out of a medal, scholarship or big honkin bag of condoms, but in the revelation of the achievement itself. At the Oscar's there's no achievement, you don't get bonus points for knowing how to pronounce names of the directors of the foreign language animated short from Myanmar (Burma to those of you from the State Law and Order Restoration Council), you don't get a Best Supporting Actor for putting a misplaced boob back in a dress, you can't win anything at the Oscar's, you've already won or lost, you're just there to find out. And that's what pisses me off.
You know how long it would take to tell me who won in all the categories I care about? 13 seconds, no really, I timed it, 16 if your awards had 'No Country for Old Men' in the title. Yet for some reason they have a three and a half hour show. I know, I know, I can not watch, I can just read the award winners in the news the next day or online the day before. The thing is though, I can't, what they've done is turn this moronic 15 seconds of interest show into a cultural touchstone, a water cooler event that leaves the non-watcher nodding his head and laughing as someone repeats jokes he pretends to get. There's nothing in this country worse than being left out of the Monday morning coffee talk, it's what separates us from the machines and productive people. Sadly, I don't see a natural resolution to this dilemma, at least not until they start handing out big honkin bags of condoms at the Oscar's.
That being said, today's column will be a bit of a catch-all, a rambling rant on the Oscar's. Yes, I'm counting the Oscar's as current events, I, and every other person between the ages of 30 and 15 count anything with John Stewart as current events.
So let me tell you what bothers me about awards shows. No, I don't care, I'm gonna tell you anyway. What bothers me about award shows is the underlying lie. What lie you ask? Good question, see I told you you'd get into it. Normally, an award is the result of some demonstrable achievement, you ran the fastest race, you scored the highest mark, you slept with the most men, whatever. And so, the anticipation, the tension that precedes the distribution of said award, is present not during the handing out of a medal, scholarship or big honkin bag of condoms, but in the revelation of the achievement itself. At the Oscar's there's no achievement, you don't get bonus points for knowing how to pronounce names of the directors of the foreign language animated short from Myanmar (Burma to those of you from the State Law and Order Restoration Council), you don't get a Best Supporting Actor for putting a misplaced boob back in a dress, you can't win anything at the Oscar's, you've already won or lost, you're just there to find out. And that's what pisses me off.
You know how long it would take to tell me who won in all the categories I care about? 13 seconds, no really, I timed it, 16 if your awards had 'No Country for Old Men' in the title. Yet for some reason they have a three and a half hour show. I know, I know, I can not watch, I can just read the award winners in the news the next day or online the day before. The thing is though, I can't, what they've done is turn this moronic 15 seconds of interest show into a cultural touchstone, a water cooler event that leaves the non-watcher nodding his head and laughing as someone repeats jokes he pretends to get. There's nothing in this country worse than being left out of the Monday morning coffee talk, it's what separates us from the machines and productive people. Sadly, I don't see a natural resolution to this dilemma, at least not until they start handing out big honkin bags of condoms at the Oscar's.
Feb 21, 2008
CHANGES... EVERYTHING CHAAAAAANGES
Bienvenido (that's maid for welcome),
So I’ve been back at this blogging game for about 3 months now and I think its time I start making some changes. Now, like most of you, I am of the opinion that I am doing a wonderful job with this blog, even in its current format. That being said, as any good I-banker would tell you (unless he’s getting sued by someone) the key to long-term viability is diversification. So, painful as it might be for you to hear these words, I’m doing it for your own good.
From now on, blog favorite: ‘Top Five Things That Bother Me Today’ will be a once a week (Monday’s) column. Tuesday and Wednesday (Wed-nes-day, God that’s a dumb way to spell that), will be free form days, generally subject to whatever issues, events or customer service agents are dumb enough to make themselves part of my life. Thursday’s column will be devoted to current events. As reading the newspaper seems like a fading habit I can only hope that Thursday’s column will replace whatever reputable news organization you have relied upon heretofore.
The way I see it such a change will be beneficial for all parties involved as a)it will require you to do less reading and will b) allow me to spread my propaganda more easily.
Down with Pandas!
You can feel free to think of Thursday as the day on which we discuss why the addition of Pandas and Zebras to the endangered species list (Are zebras endangered? I considered doing some research before writing this, but then I realized you don't know either, and who wouldn't trust me? I'm the guy breaking news about 37% of public restroom users not washing their hands, I'm the CNN of the blog world!)is, in fact, a secret government conspiracy to promote racial harmony, and bamboo as a snack food.
If you don’t like the new format, or you want to compliment me on well, anything, feel free to post your opinions in the comments section, though I think we’ve established that commenting is, for the most part, well beyond your abilities. That's all for now.
So I’ve been back at this blogging game for about 3 months now and I think its time I start making some changes. Now, like most of you, I am of the opinion that I am doing a wonderful job with this blog, even in its current format. That being said, as any good I-banker would tell you (unless he’s getting sued by someone) the key to long-term viability is diversification. So, painful as it might be for you to hear these words, I’m doing it for your own good.
From now on, blog favorite: ‘Top Five Things That Bother Me Today’ will be a once a week (Monday’s) column. Tuesday and Wednesday (Wed-nes-day, God that’s a dumb way to spell that), will be free form days, generally subject to whatever issues, events or customer service agents are dumb enough to make themselves part of my life. Thursday’s column will be devoted to current events. As reading the newspaper seems like a fading habit I can only hope that Thursday’s column will replace whatever reputable news organization you have relied upon heretofore.
The way I see it such a change will be beneficial for all parties involved as a)it will require you to do less reading and will b) allow me to spread my propaganda more easily.
Down with Pandas!
You can feel free to think of Thursday as the day on which we discuss why the addition of Pandas and Zebras to the endangered species list (Are zebras endangered? I considered doing some research before writing this, but then I realized you don't know either, and who wouldn't trust me? I'm the guy breaking news about 37% of public restroom users not washing their hands, I'm the CNN of the blog world!)is, in fact, a secret government conspiracy to promote racial harmony, and bamboo as a snack food.
If you don’t like the new format, or you want to compliment me on well, anything, feel free to post your opinions in the comments section, though I think we’ve established that commenting is, for the most part, well beyond your abilities. That's all for now.
Feb 20, 2008
BLOW ME!
It's been a while friends. I'd apologize, but I'm not actually sorry, and I don't want to lie to you (unless it's for personal gain or amusement). Lots has happened though, so I'll try to sum it all up in the next couple of days. Time is short though so let's get down to business.
Top Five Things That Bother Me Today
#5 - Feeling Guilty About My Recurrent Lateness - I know what you're thinking (I generally do, you're predictable like that), I should feel guilty about being late all the time; its my fault, I'm wasting other people's valuable time, all that responsibility hokum. Fair point counselor (I know you're not a lawyer, did I mention I am? No? I am.). A lesser man, and by lesser man I mean someone willing to admit the existence of personal faults, might even think them winning arguments. That being said, as has been pointed out by Royalty, heads of state and my mom, I am not a lesser man. You see, the way I think about it, my inability to be on time is a sort of handicap, like a stutter or a limp or relying on puns. And we, and by we I mean people other than me, hold the handicapped to a lower standard; not blaming them for spitting all over you while they attempt to enunciate, or for jabbing your toe with their cane, or for ending every third sentence with "no pun intended." All I'm saying is, try to understand... nothing's my fault. Is that asking so much?
#4 - Hand Blowers in Public Restrooms - A recent survey found that as many as 37% of people don't wash their hands after using a public restroom. 37%!! Now while I just made up that statistic, you have to admit it's disturbing nonetheless. So my question is, why are we punishing the 63% of the population actually concerned with heptitis, by making them stand in a public restroom inhaling that pungent aroma of eau de urine? I get that the environment is important and that paper towels come from trees and there are reindeer in the Arctic, I just don't think I'm willing to inhale urine to protect them. Plus, I think the whole, 'let's use one-ply toilet paper in the stalls' idea, more than makes up for paper towel abuse.
#3 - Dramatizations - Have you ever been watching TV while someone being interview described an event from their life? Yes? Good. Have you ever then seen that incident re-enacted? With the littel words 're-enactment' or 'dramatization' in the bottom corner? Even better. Have you ever then asked yourself this? "How dumb do they think I am?" They really need to show me an actor picking a lock so I can understand what the guy on TV meant when he said, "I picked the lock."? Look I'm more than willing to admit that lots of people who aren't me are dumb, most in fact, but that doesn't mean we need to have illustrated conversations. What's next, caricature artists accompanying you on dates?
#2 - Sell By Date - I get the 'born on' date, I get the 'best if used by date', I do. I do NOT, however, in any shape way or form, comprehend the 'sell-by' date. Why are they even giving me this information? Is it a handy sugesstion for those in the retail milk resale business? Do they think I'm going to stand out on a corner screaming "MILK! Get your milk here."? Is there some secret algorithm that I'm unaware of by which you can derive the expiration date from the 'sell by' date? I feel like I need a dramatization to help me understand this thing.
#1 - Ryan Seacrest - I know I've covered this before but the man is EVERYWHERE! I passed some homeless men singing in the subway station last night and there he was giving me useless information about hobo#1 and his affinity for Colt .45 malt beer. I feel like instead of investigating the scab on Roger Clemen's butt Congress should get to work on legislation that limits the amount of time his lordship, 'Sir I Had Brown Hair in Season One' spends on camera each week.
I'm spent, more tomorrow.
Top Five Things That Bother Me Today
#5 - Feeling Guilty About My Recurrent Lateness - I know what you're thinking (I generally do, you're predictable like that), I should feel guilty about being late all the time; its my fault, I'm wasting other people's valuable time, all that responsibility hokum. Fair point counselor (I know you're not a lawyer, did I mention I am? No? I am.). A lesser man, and by lesser man I mean someone willing to admit the existence of personal faults, might even think them winning arguments. That being said, as has been pointed out by Royalty, heads of state and my mom, I am not a lesser man. You see, the way I think about it, my inability to be on time is a sort of handicap, like a stutter or a limp or relying on puns. And we, and by we I mean people other than me, hold the handicapped to a lower standard; not blaming them for spitting all over you while they attempt to enunciate, or for jabbing your toe with their cane, or for ending every third sentence with "no pun intended." All I'm saying is, try to understand... nothing's my fault. Is that asking so much?
#4 - Hand Blowers in Public Restrooms - A recent survey found that as many as 37% of people don't wash their hands after using a public restroom. 37%!! Now while I just made up that statistic, you have to admit it's disturbing nonetheless. So my question is, why are we punishing the 63% of the population actually concerned with heptitis, by making them stand in a public restroom inhaling that pungent aroma of eau de urine? I get that the environment is important and that paper towels come from trees and there are reindeer in the Arctic, I just don't think I'm willing to inhale urine to protect them. Plus, I think the whole, 'let's use one-ply toilet paper in the stalls' idea, more than makes up for paper towel abuse.
#3 - Dramatizations - Have you ever been watching TV while someone being interview described an event from their life? Yes? Good. Have you ever then seen that incident re-enacted? With the littel words 're-enactment' or 'dramatization' in the bottom corner? Even better. Have you ever then asked yourself this? "How dumb do they think I am?" They really need to show me an actor picking a lock so I can understand what the guy on TV meant when he said, "I picked the lock."? Look I'm more than willing to admit that lots of people who aren't me are dumb, most in fact, but that doesn't mean we need to have illustrated conversations. What's next, caricature artists accompanying you on dates?
#2 - Sell By Date - I get the 'born on' date, I get the 'best if used by date', I do. I do NOT, however, in any shape way or form, comprehend the 'sell-by' date. Why are they even giving me this information? Is it a handy sugesstion for those in the retail milk resale business? Do they think I'm going to stand out on a corner screaming "MILK! Get your milk here."? Is there some secret algorithm that I'm unaware of by which you can derive the expiration date from the 'sell by' date? I feel like I need a dramatization to help me understand this thing.
#1 - Ryan Seacrest - I know I've covered this before but the man is EVERYWHERE! I passed some homeless men singing in the subway station last night and there he was giving me useless information about hobo#1 and his affinity for Colt .45 malt beer. I feel like instead of investigating the scab on Roger Clemen's butt Congress should get to work on legislation that limits the amount of time his lordship, 'Sir I Had Brown Hair in Season One' spends on camera each week.
I'm spent, more tomorrow.
Feb 14, 2008
HAPPY VAL--- OW!
Really kinda sleepy today children. Fortunately, I get absolutely nothing out of doing this blog so I don't have to apologize for being lazy about it today. Though, if i was going to complain about something today, I'd have to say I'd choose, being conscious. There's just something about being awake right now that I consider an affront to my personal system of values and my views on social hierarchy. Anyway, I'm too tired to be really riled up about anything (yes, I know it's Valentine's Day, the dumbest day of the year, but honestly, is there anything left to say about it?) so here's today's alternate list:
OK you know what? No! I was going to put a list of random crap here, but now I'm starting to get annoyed. In the past five minutes three different paralegals have walked in and out of my office and upon exiting, each uttered the words, "Happy Valentine's Day." I'm sorry, but this is unacceptable. I've gotten my head around that whole chocolate and flowers thing and I understand that it's what girls have come to expect and you know what, fine, you can't always be 300 Spartans fighting a million Persians, sometimes you just go with the flow (besides the ancillary benefits are more than worth the buffornary), but I'm drawing the line at making this greeting worthy holiday.
It's just something you say on a holiday, it's no big deal you say? WRONG! You don't see people saying Happy President's day or Happy Columbus day do you? You don't hear people saying take care, Happy Flag day. NO! You only get this on Christmas, New Years and other religious holidays. That, my friends, is where this whole V-Day fiasco went from tolerably silly, to disturbingly insane. But that was just the first step. Much like the Terminator, this evil continues to evolve. To wit, women in my office are buying V-day flowers and gifts for their mothers and sisters and other allegedly close relatives. WTF!? At least back in the day you could always count on an ulterior motive behind any corny V-day gift, now, it's become an all inclusive lovefest of Greek orgy proportions. Ugh! please, just stop it! Yes, I realize I just equated giving unwarranted gifts to one's mom and sister with a Greek orgy, and no, I haven't decided how I feel about that.
That's it and that's all.
OK you know what? No! I was going to put a list of random crap here, but now I'm starting to get annoyed. In the past five minutes three different paralegals have walked in and out of my office and upon exiting, each uttered the words, "Happy Valentine's Day." I'm sorry, but this is unacceptable. I've gotten my head around that whole chocolate and flowers thing and I understand that it's what girls have come to expect and you know what, fine, you can't always be 300 Spartans fighting a million Persians, sometimes you just go with the flow (besides the ancillary benefits are more than worth the buffornary), but I'm drawing the line at making this greeting worthy holiday.
It's just something you say on a holiday, it's no big deal you say? WRONG! You don't see people saying Happy President's day or Happy Columbus day do you? You don't hear people saying take care, Happy Flag day. NO! You only get this on Christmas, New Years and other religious holidays. That, my friends, is where this whole V-Day fiasco went from tolerably silly, to disturbingly insane. But that was just the first step. Much like the Terminator, this evil continues to evolve. To wit, women in my office are buying V-day flowers and gifts for their mothers and sisters and other allegedly close relatives. WTF!? At least back in the day you could always count on an ulterior motive behind any corny V-day gift, now, it's become an all inclusive lovefest of Greek orgy proportions. Ugh! please, just stop it! Yes, I realize I just equated giving unwarranted gifts to one's mom and sister with a Greek orgy, and no, I haven't decided how I feel about that.
That's it and that's all.
Feb 13, 2008
IT'S JUST CRAZY ENOUGH TO WORK
Busy day today friends, busy day. I find myself unable to loaf , relax or otherwise ignore the work sitting on my desk. I must say, I find this disconcerting. So I have come here, my home away from TV, to force myself to be unprodctive, we shall see how it goes.
Yesterday I spoke of the perils of planet sized glutei squishing parts of your thigh whilst one makes use of public transportation. An intelligent reader, recognizing genius when he/she sees it, made use of the comments option to me for advice (Yes, I know I too was shocked to discover it is possible to post comments). He/she wrote that he/she has often been sat on and asked me for a solution. Well folks, after 12-16 seconds of pondering the solution came to me. From now on, when there is an empty seat next to you, if you see a gluteus super maximus lowering itself towards you, simply say, "seat's wet." If this is a cloth seat, as on the bus I ride, or at a movie theater, you're home free, if it is a plastic seat such as a train, one may be forced to spill just a bit of water , but really, is that too high a price to avoiding be maimed by a 200lb butt cheek? Anyway, I think this is the perfect solution, but, if like me, you prefer something a little more covoluted, the following are effective, yet rejected solutions:
Top Ten Ways To Get/Keep The Seat Next To You Empty:
#10 - Hey lady, what do you think you're doing!? You almost sat on my imaginary friend.
#9 - Make the beeep beeeep beeeeep sound trucks make when they shift into reverse as she starts to back her way into the seat.
#8 - Scream "Look! Cookies!"
#7 - Put a model mouse on the seat, you know, cuz elephants are afraid of mice
#6 - This may be a bit excessive and redundant given the prior suggestion of pouring water on the seat, but this is a guaranteed winner. Mark the seat as part of your territory by rubbing up against it, then peeing on it.
Note: seat will smell like pee, that may be a deal breaker for you, I don't know.
#5 - Wait till he's sat down, then ask him if he's been saved by the Lord Jesus Christ
#4 - In a just barely audible but creepy whisper say, "mmm, now that's what I call cushion for the pushin.'"
#3 - Order, and and read on said train, "Cannibal's Monthly"
#2 - Point at the seat then at the tuchus and say "Let me guess, you failed geometry."
#1 - Knock on his belly and say, "John? John! Are you in there?"
Yesterday I spoke of the perils of planet sized glutei squishing parts of your thigh whilst one makes use of public transportation. An intelligent reader, recognizing genius when he/she sees it, made use of the comments option to me for advice (Yes, I know I too was shocked to discover it is possible to post comments). He/she wrote that he/she has often been sat on and asked me for a solution. Well folks, after 12-16 seconds of pondering the solution came to me. From now on, when there is an empty seat next to you, if you see a gluteus super maximus lowering itself towards you, simply say, "seat's wet." If this is a cloth seat, as on the bus I ride, or at a movie theater, you're home free, if it is a plastic seat such as a train, one may be forced to spill just a bit of water , but really, is that too high a price to avoiding be maimed by a 200lb butt cheek? Anyway, I think this is the perfect solution, but, if like me, you prefer something a little more covoluted, the following are effective, yet rejected solutions:
Top Ten Ways To Get/Keep The Seat Next To You Empty:
#10 - Hey lady, what do you think you're doing!? You almost sat on my imaginary friend.
#9 - Make the beeep beeeep beeeeep sound trucks make when they shift into reverse as she starts to back her way into the seat.
#8 - Scream "Look! Cookies!"
#7 - Put a model mouse on the seat, you know, cuz elephants are afraid of mice
#6 - This may be a bit excessive and redundant given the prior suggestion of pouring water on the seat, but this is a guaranteed winner. Mark the seat as part of your territory by rubbing up against it, then peeing on it.
Note: seat will smell like pee, that may be a deal breaker for you, I don't know.
#5 - Wait till he's sat down, then ask him if he's been saved by the Lord Jesus Christ
#4 - In a just barely audible but creepy whisper say, "mmm, now that's what I call cushion for the pushin.'"
#3 - Order, and and read on said train, "Cannibal's Monthly"
#2 - Point at the seat then at the tuchus and say "Let me guess, you failed geometry."
#1 - Knock on his belly and say, "John? John! Are you in there?"
Feb 12, 2008
COME RIDE THE CYCLONE!
What ho!
Good afternoon, sorry for the delay today but afterall, work does come first (pause, OK I'm done laughing now). I haven't really planned today's post out at all so you're going to have to bear with me, this is probably going to be a bit of a roller coaster ride.
I've decided to start a new habit. It's actually more of a hobby now that I think of it, habit being something you become accustomed to doing after significant repitions. Anway, my new hobby is making ambiguous statements that could be construed as a compliment, but in reality, aren't. Please note this is different than the backhanded compliment. Iwill illustrate:
a) The backhanded compliment - That makeup looks great on you, I can barely see your acne.
b) The Ambiguous Statement - Your son's so handsome, I can't believe it.
Now that you see the difference, I encourage you all to go out and practice this hobby as well. Already today I've used it on a barista at Starbucks - "You've got to be the most cheerful person I've ever met before 11am. " I've used it a co-worker, "I don't think anyone can tell you skipped your shower, you look just like you did yesterday." I've even used it on my mom, "It's rare for people go senile at your age." OK that one was less ambiguous but she's kinda losing it so i had to dumb it down for her. I'm kidding, of course (I'm not).
I've also recently been putting together my next list of: 'Things Someone Needs To Make' and since this isn't technically an invention, but more of a policy that needs to be instituted, I figure I'll share it with you today.
I know many of you are forced to make use of public transportation in order to make your daily commute (if you can afford to drive into the city and park in a lot on a daily basis, please make a donation to the 'I Have Significanty Less Money Than You Do, So Give Me Some Fund,' conveniently located in my back pocket). I also know, that you, as I, live in ever-present fear of the empty seat next to you being filled, overflowingly so, by the tuchus from planet, "How much more for the supersize?" If my policy is inistituted, the next time you find your field of vision of vision eclipsed by a 42" butt dropping out of orbit on a collision course for the 30 inches of empty seat adjacent to you, you can simply point to the poster of the seat back and wag your finger. In honor of today's roller coaster theme, I envision it looking something like this:
Good afternoon, sorry for the delay today but afterall, work does come first (pause, OK I'm done laughing now). I haven't really planned today's post out at all so you're going to have to bear with me, this is probably going to be a bit of a roller coaster ride.
I've decided to start a new habit. It's actually more of a hobby now that I think of it, habit being something you become accustomed to doing after significant repitions. Anway, my new hobby is making ambiguous statements that could be construed as a compliment, but in reality, aren't. Please note this is different than the backhanded compliment. Iwill illustrate:
a) The backhanded compliment - That makeup looks great on you, I can barely see your acne.
b) The Ambiguous Statement - Your son's so handsome, I can't believe it.
Now that you see the difference, I encourage you all to go out and practice this hobby as well. Already today I've used it on a barista at Starbucks - "You've got to be the most cheerful person I've ever met before 11am. " I've used it a co-worker, "I don't think anyone can tell you skipped your shower, you look just like you did yesterday." I've even used it on my mom, "It's rare for people go senile at your age." OK that one was less ambiguous but she's kinda losing it so i had to dumb it down for her. I'm kidding, of course (I'm not).
I've also recently been putting together my next list of: 'Things Someone Needs To Make' and since this isn't technically an invention, but more of a policy that needs to be instituted, I figure I'll share it with you today.
I know many of you are forced to make use of public transportation in order to make your daily commute (if you can afford to drive into the city and park in a lot on a daily basis, please make a donation to the 'I Have Significanty Less Money Than You Do, So Give Me Some Fund,' conveniently located in my back pocket). I also know, that you, as I, live in ever-present fear of the empty seat next to you being filled, overflowingly so, by the tuchus from planet, "How much more for the supersize?" If my policy is inistituted, the next time you find your field of vision of vision eclipsed by a 42" butt dropping out of orbit on a collision course for the 30 inches of empty seat adjacent to you, you can simply point to the poster of the seat back and wag your finger. In honor of today's roller coaster theme, I envision it looking something like this:
YOU MUST BE THIS NARROW TO RIDE IN THIS SEAT
(insert picture of a reasonably sized bottom here)
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