Monday, January 30, 2006

Mon #2: Advertising in the worst possible taste

I heard the following ad on the radio today at work. At least it gave me something to laugh about on the job! What complete idiot thought this was a good idea???

AD: Dr. Scholl's Gel Inserts
The scene: A crowded diner with an exchange between a waitress and customer.

Customer: Waitress! May I have some coffee over here, please?
Waitress: Certainly, sir...
(A loud crash of dishes)
W, frantic tone: Oh, no! Sir, I'm so sorry! Hot coffee all over your lap! Oh, oh... Let me get some paper towels and some cold water!
C, calmly: It's alright, ma'am. Don't worry about it. It's only scalding hot coffee.
W: Wow. You must be gellin'!
C: Exactly! Which is why I'm not yellin'. Even though the redness and swelling is considerable!

OK, so are you saying that if your feet are outrageously comfortable, you won't feel anything else? Tell you what, after the initial shock and burning, I wouldn't be feeling much either when having scalding hot coffee dumped in my lap!





Mon. #1: "HUH??? WHAT???"

Here's further proof that there's a huge difference between hearing and listening.
At the beginning of each work day, the whole shift gathers for an update as to how much work we have scheduled that day, any important details and other announcements. "Jan" went through all the daily information, and then went on to discuss the corporation's change-over to an outsourced payroll group. Included in payroll is the timekeeping reports. "Effective March 27th," announced Jan, "we will be completely be changed over to the new payroll system, so that morning is when we'll start punching in on the new time clocks which were installed last month."
The words had scarcely left her mouth when 3 ladies collectively raised their hands and immediately asked, "When are we going to start 'swiping in' on the new time clocks?"

Hmmm. Must be Attention Defe--... Um... Uh, something-or-other...

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Sunday second: A stench for a stench

This past summer, our family briefly lived on the second-story of a house, right above "Ahab" and "Jezebel." They were an older couple who wanted nothing to do with anyone. Along with that fact, I believe (not saying this humorously, but most soberly) Jezebel was mentally ill. Though her behavior often caused major problems, it also created situations that one couldn't help but laugh at.
Jezebel loved to garden. I think it was her way of trying to clear her head and relax. Unfortunately, she wasn't all that good at it. Most anything she planted looked great for a couple of weeks before succumbing. Perhaps why this happened was because of a product she was misusing. "Preen" is a complex fertilizer, and on the bag, instructions are clearly given to use only once-per-week. However, Jezebel seemed to think it was like plant food, and smeared the stuff on in thick, liberal coatings above the mulch daily. Not only did her plants fail to survive, but it produced a stench, much like a sewer, that filled the air, particularly on hot days... Which was almost every day this last year!
Jez finally noticed the odor a few weeks later while sitting on her front porch with her daughter. "Lanie," she bemoaned, "I don't understand it. My flower beds STINK!"
Lanie, who was the female version of Terrell Owens (see last post), always had an answer for everything. It just wasn't ever the right one.
"Spread mothballs on them," she decided.
"Mothballs??" shrieked Jezebel. "What is THAT gonna do?"
Lanie retorted, "The camphor will neutralize the nitrates in the soil and eliminate the odor."

Oh, you must be referring to the new and improved odorless mothballs that DON'T cause asphyxiation... AND doesn't poison the soil when rained upon!
What a braintrust THAT was.

Sunday first: MUCH too much information

If you aren't really up on sports, Terrell Owens is a pro football player that got himself kicked off the Philadelphia Eagles' team with his excessively broodish, selfish and mouthy behavior. Though he hasn't played in 3 months, he has resurfaced on TV doing an advert. ...Which sets the backdrop of this next unfortunate (but true) comment.
Dave Hyde of the South Florida Sun-Sentinel writes, "Yes, Terrell Owens is back. He has his own commercial. If you don't see it (today), you'll get another chance no doubt on Super Sunday. Just having him back in your living room might be the most unsettling commercial visual since [74-year-old] Bob Dole [loser in the 1996 U.S. Presidential election] talking about erectile dysfunction."

You know, I've spent the last 9 years trying to forget that one... Thanks a lot, Dave.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Third today: DUUUUUHHHHHHH....

My wife was recently perusing through an online survey, when she noticed that by answering it, she could be eligible for a substantial monetary prize. So she went to the response, and the very first question was, "Do you go online?"

I would LOVE to work for this e-company. Getting paid for being a moron. The American Dream does still exist!

THE STUPIES ARE COMING BACK!
The Stupie is the 27th most prestigious award granted for sheer stupidity in the Western Hemisphere. Your participation helps make it happen!
Please glance through the December and January archives and post a comment on your fave. The winner (200th post, only 21 away) will be the quote which receives the most comments.
Stay tuned, and let your voice be heard!!!

Second today: An ego bigger than God's

The AP reported an odd story about a man in Reading, PA (pronounced "Redding" for all you out-of-staters, BTW) who is in a bit of a self-inflicted quandary when he found out he can't vote unless he explains or changes his signature on his voter's registration card. You see, though his name is (and printed as such) Paul Sewell, he signed his name "God."
He claims that's just a legal mark, much like those who are illiterate are allowed to sign "X." The idea came to him while on the job as a bail enforcement officer. "Whenever I go to arrest somebody, they say, 'Oh, God, give me another chance. Oh, God, let me go. I'll turn myself in tomorrow.'"
He doesn't understand why the Board of Elections has such a problem with this. "[The motor vehicles department] accepted it on my driver's license. I have a credit card with (my signature). It shouldn't be a problem."

Dude, WHAT are you smoking, I mean, thinking? Do you think you're making people's day? Yeah, I can envision what you think people's reaction is...
The police officer: "Oh, you're God? Sorry. I'll just let you go with a warning, even though you were going twice the speed limit."
The store salesman: "Hey, I sold a TV to God. Don't I get extra commission for that?"
The elections board: "It's official. Candidate X wins by virtue of earning God's vote. All other votes are invalid, since they aren't necessarily God's will, especially for votes cast in favor of Candidate Y."

First today: Don't Call Me...

Gotta make up for being too busy this past week, so multiple entries will appear the next 2 days!
I got a certificate in the mail today from the TelecomPioneers of America. It reads:
2006 Certificate of Appreciation
The Board of Directors of the TelecomPioneers hereby recognizes [Mr. I.] of the Verizon Pioneers as a valued member and compassionate conveyor of the true pioneering spirit, this day, January 15, 2006...

Uh, gee, thanks, but I rescinded my membership in the fall of 2002 and "retired from Verizon in April, 2003.

And you wonder why your phone service and bill are always so screwed up?

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Dumb dumb dumb dumb DUMB!

The hockey game I just recently attended was horrific. The only good thing about it was I had front-row seats. The home team wasn't that good, taking on the best team in the league, and to complicate matters worse, the referee was so dreadful, I don't know how he ever got a job doing what he does. But, bottom line, it's just a game. The crowd was getting increasingly surly with each dreadful penalty call that was made. Finally, things came to a head when the ref ejected one of the home players from the game after that player argued an exponentially terrible call.
In the midst of the fans booing, hissing and shouting obscenities-- in the presence of many small children, I might add-- one fan three rows above me ripped a page out of his game program and threw it at the referee. The wadded up paper lightly tapped the ref's skate. The fan screamed, "There, you @#&*-ing moron! How did THAT feel?"

Hey, bud, thanks for your contribution. I'm sure it made the ref think twice about the way he was handling the game, threatened his ability to skate, and it also was a great aid in helping the ushers find you in order to carry you off the premises!
As I've said before, some people take sports WAY too seriously!

Yet another unfortunate bathroom experience

As I previously mentioned, public restrooms are the worst, especially for men. What could possibly be worse? Oh, yeah, the restroom at work!
Last week, I had to pause from my duties to "do my duty." So, again, off to the worst place in the world I go. Seeing as how my work place employs over 80 people, there is more than one toilet in the facility. Thank God for stall walls, at least! However, while they provide some privacy, they do not block the penetration of odiferous bodily emanations. That's unpleasant enough, but then as I got ready to take my seat upon the porcelain throne, "Sam" called over from the next stall to proclaim, "Dude, I wouldn't stay in here if I were you."

Several responses flowed through my mind to retort to that bit of mindless blather.
1) "Oh, thanks for the warning. I don't trust my sense of smell."
2) "That's OK. I enjoy breathing in toxic waste!"
3) "Nah, it could be worse. At least this isn't a gas station on the interstate!"
4) "So why are YOU still here? Oh, that's right, you're rotting over there!!!"
5a) "You think I WANT to be in here with you???"
5b) "I can't imagine coming in here unless I know you're here already!"
6) "Just you wait another minute or two."
7) "So what's it like after death? No, wait, don't tell me, because I'm about to join you."

Would someone please inform the entire male population of the world that it is completely UNCOUTH to talk to another man in the bathroom?!

YOU'RE upset???

Why some people think the world is out to get them is beyond me. Especially when said people are their own worst enemies...
Take for instance my co-worker "Sam." He works in my department, which handles shipping, receiving, stocking and transferring of our products. We rotate duties on a daily basis, and on this particular day, it was Sam's turn on the shipping line. It turned out to be a very heavy day, as he got pretty badly backed up several times in the morning. (We try to assist each other whenever possible, but this day was tough in all areas, so Sam was on his own.)
At one point, our plant manager, "Jerome," came to the line to help by confirming the outgoing cases in the computer system, leaving Sam to worry only about palletizing the cases. Well, lo and behold, after about 1 full minute of confirming, Jerome looks up to see Sam standing still with his foot up on the conveyor line, chatting with the janitor about football. Jerome told Sam, "Go to the back and switch with Al. At least I know he'll keep working when we're busy."
Sam apparently felt stung by being put in his place by our boss, and spewed, "I have no idea why he took me off the shipping line."
Oh, really?
Furthermore, Sam went on to vow, "I'll never work on the shipping line again, if that's the way I'm gonna be treated around here."

Ah, I see. Job duties and descriptions only apply to your co-workers, but not to you.

Laziness never ceases to amaze me, especially when it comes to the lame excuses it produces.

Saturday, January 21, 2006

PBS: post-beer syndrome

Whoever invented public restrooms should be hung, beaten, burned, and then caned in hell!
I went to a hockey game yesterday, and between periods, I felt the urge, so off to the purgatory room I went. As you may know, the men's room is furnished with (stand-up) urinals. (Firstly, nothing is quite so disconcerting as taking care of business while having a strange man stand 6 inches to the side!) As my turn to make my contribution came, I began in earnest, only to hear the twenty-something year-old gent on my right start cursing. By the smell of him, he had already enjoyed an alcoholic beverage or two...
"#@*!! *%$!! How on earth can I pee 4 times more than I drink?!? Ridiculous!!! #@*!"

Well, what a pleasant experience that was! NOT!!!

Thursday, January 19, 2006

10 brain cells or less

So I'm in the grocery store the other day, picking up a few extra necessities. Seeing as how I only had 5 or 6 things, I went to the express lane. After the cashier started ringing me up, an older lady with a FULL cart comes up behind me. The cashier gently called back, "10 items or less, ma'am."
The lady looked confused. "What?"
The cashier repeated, "This lane is for 10 items or less."
Cart lady paused, looked down at her FULL cart, and then reached down to grab an item...
"Lessee... One... Two... Three..."

Lady, how big do you think the number 10 is???

BTW, after her count reached about 8, she sheepishly moved to another check-out line.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

So, you DON'T want my business?

Ad campaigns that try to be this "coy" just tick me off...
A local cell phone dealer has a radio advert that attempts to promote itself as the best priced in the industry. They go about it in the wrong way, however...
"We've got (phone plan) deals so good, we can't mention them on the air!"

OK, why the cryptic tease? Are you gonna burn me on service charges, or do your phones just suck? Thanks but no thanks!

Saturday, January 14, 2006

To protect and to serve tickets

(Thanks to Roland Sweet/ Nation's Press for this one...)
Job priorities really out of line here!
Charles Atherton, 73, was crossing a Washington, DC street in the middle of a block when a Toyota hit him hard enough to knock him out of his shoes. He struck his head on the car's windshield and fell to the pavement, according to police, who (then) issued Atherton a $5 ticket for jaywalking just before he was taken to the hospital, where he died (from his injuries.) Police Capt. Willie Smith told the Washington Post, "If (we) had known Atherton was going to die, (we) never would have written the ticket."

"Hey, bud, thanks for living. Don't let the door hit you on the way out!!!"

Is it dumb or is it Memorex?

Wilkes-Barre (PA) mayor Tom Leighton (creator of the "I believe" fiasco) is at it again. The leader of the crime-besieged metropolis is fiercely denying that things in "the WB" are really bad. Yesterday, he held an outdoor press conference in one of the not-so-horrible sections of town. Instead of standing at a podium, Tom led the media on a walking tour. "See, things are not bad here, despite what the news reporters are telling the public," he touted. When directly asked about the exponential increase of drug-related incidents, including shootings, arsons, stabbings and tons of robberies, Tom smiled and offered, "Well, yes, but as you said, that's all drug related. The drug people are in gangs, and they're just fighting each other... So really, they're helping us (police and government) with the problem."

EXSQUEEZE ME?!?!?

OK, Tom, you're right. I know I'm so safe as gangs take over my city, because they're not (intentionally) shooting at me. They're only shooting at each other! Oh yeah, and that cocaine dealer that lives next door doesn't want to bother anybody, so I'll just let him go about his business quietly. I don't look like a druggie so I won't get stabbed, shot, beaten or robbed.
Oh, and by the way, Turkey Tom, WHY were the top FIVE stories on the local news last night about robberies, murders, and high-speed police chases all taking place in the WB???

"Welcome to Wilkes-Barre. Numerous hospitals provided for your convenience."


Thursday, January 12, 2006

Pessimistic about politics

Last summer, Tom Leighton, the mayor of a seriously distressed and crime-infested city (not to mention a center of urban decay on a monumental level) called the press and declared that he would be holding a press conference the following day featuring "an unbelievable announcement." Naturally, everyone got all psyched. What could it be? A mega company with tons of new jobs? A huge federal grant? A revitalization plan? ERRRRRRRRRNT! Wrong answer! He unveiled a huge banner featuring the slogan "I believe" and marketed it as a "positive image for the city." Was there a plan? No. A goal? Nope. A direction? Fuhgettaboutit.
The public went nuts with ridicule, and rightfully so. But since the coin always has two sides, local editor Gene Padden had to offer his take on the matter.
"He (Leighton) could have walked up to the podium, pulled down his pants, and crapped out an ice cream truck and people still would have said, 'He brought us all here just for that?'"

OK, you go ahead and defend your seat in fantasy land. I'll just be right here, getting robbed. Oh, wait, I don't have money because I don't have a job. Now I'm getting stabbed because I have no money. Now the thief is spray painting more hate slogans on my dilapidated, soon-to-be-repoed home. That's gonna hurt my property value! Nah, maybe not, since more than half the houses on my block are condemned already. "I believe" I could do a lot better elsewhere!!!

Are Santa's helpers retarded?

The worst thing about Christmas is spending tons of time putting together all the kids' toys, but it becomes pure joy when it's time to pull out the instructions and read the latest "thoughts" from the masterminds at toy central...

"Non-rechargeable batteries are not to be recharged."
Oh, is that why they're called non-rechargeable??

"The supply terminals are not to be short-circuited."
Aaaw, why not?! I like getting electrical shocks!

"Never dispose of batteries in fire as this may cause them to explode."
Nah, what the heck? I like my chances. Oh, wait. Why do I have these toys so close to a fire?

Yes, the mensa club just called, but the only message they left was insatiable laughing.


Monday, January 09, 2006

Not exactly a good spiritual experience

A local wiccan, Paul Jones, commented on his views regarding an event called Skyclad, which is the religious tradition of dancing around a fire naked...
"Have I done it? Yeah, I've done it. But I get cold and when males get cold certain physiological effects happen that aren't very complimentary. So I'm not too fond of skyclad."

...Brings a whole new meaning to the term, "Leading the way."
I know, I know, too much information.

Do-re-pee

A local filmmaker and thespian, Jason Sherry, made the following comment on a new musical called "Urinetown."
"Nobody wants to talk about pee. You're onstage, you shouldn't be singing about pee. For God's sake, you should be singing about Maria."

What??? I fail to see the correlation between Maria and urine. Except that occasionally, Maria may need to urinate.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

World record set for shortest attention span

Today at work, I was awaiting the arrival of a truck carrying our daily shipment of garments from our main factory. The Truck finally began to pull up to the bay door. Though it was closed, I could see the change of light through the crack at the bottom. Anyway, I opened the door and saw the truck was still about 10 feet away, since the driver had to open the lock securing the goods inside the trailer. I looked to my right where the delivery entry was, about 50 feet away, and saw the trucker there. I called, "Hold on, I'll be right there to let you in."
"OK," he responded with a slight wave.
I started walking over to let him in. No sooner had I taken 3 steps when he started ringing the doorbell. Repeatedly. Obnoxiously. I quickened my pace, and opened the entry door, looking at the driver incredulously.
He seemed stunned. After an awkward pause, he muttered, "Oh... Was that you over there?"
Guardedly, I slurred, "Yessss..."
Again, a look of astonishment painted the driver's face. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't see you there."

So who did you think you were waving to, the Rose Bowl Parade???

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Umm, sorry. My Rolex has stopped.

My wife and I watched (perhaps the last) Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve this past weekend. As most of you know, Mr. Clark was in rough shape, having suffered a stroke last year. While he did an admirable and courageous job, Ryan Seachrist (of American Idol "fame") did most of the emceeing. Upon returning from a commercial break about a half-hour before midnight, Ryan piped, "We still have a lot more ahead for you, including the dropping of the ball, which will take place shortly after midnight."

Ah, yes, that must have been the lesser know "second-cousin" ball, which lags behind the other one several minutes, just in case you were in the bathroom or something when midnight strikes...

Perspective in mirror less distorted than it appears

After a somewhat messy evening weather-wise, I proceeded as usual on my daily commute to work. While the roads were a touch sloppy in spots, they weren't that bad. (After all, this is PA!) The travels were relatively uneventful, until I happened upon a small Jeep. I recognized it as the car belonging to my co-worker, Leila. (Yes, the same one who couldn't find the cart moved a miniscule 8 feet away last week!) As a bit of background, I need to mention that Leila grew up on the shores of Lake Erie, so she should be used to winter weather. However, she poked along in her 4-wheeler at a lethargic 15 MPH, most of the time in a 35 MPH zone. ...And here I am in my minivan, having full control and confidence while driving. The entire 10-mile trip to work was spent meandering along at that crawling pace. From time to time, I varied my following distance-- although I never tailgated-- to alert her to her need to speed it up a tad, seeing as how about a dozen vehicles were behind me in this hideously slow procession.
Finally, we reached the company parking lot, barely in time. As we got out of our respective vehicles, Leila shot, "What's your hurry? You rode my tail the whole way in here!"
"No," I rebutted, "I wasn't 'on your tail.'"
"Yes you were," Leila defied.
Annoyed, yet calmly, I offered, "Where did you grow up? And why the heck were you only going 15 in a 35?"

The conversation came to an abrupt, yet merciful, end.

You have a vehicle designed for rough driving conditions and you grew up in blizzard country. You drive at the dangerously low speed of 15 because:
A) Precipitation terrifies you.
B) You enjoy ticking off the entire Western world.
C) You have absolutely no clue and are seriously overdue for your next trip to the shrink.