As I have mentioned before, we live in (federal) public housing, which is operated by HUD (Housing and Urban Development) standards. ...For the most part...
One of the requirements of our tenure is that we must be inspected by our housing manager twice each year, to ensure we are living in and maintaining a safe, clean environment. Our first inspection was this past Tuesday. Our manager, "Doris," came into our place with a chip on her shoulder for reasons unbeknownst to us, and quickly looked for anything to fault us on. (Now, keep in mind that prior to our moving in, Doris did a walk-through with us, noting any and all problems or short-comings before we took up residence.) The tenants before us had installed an odd extension wire for the dryer outlet, which was not affixed to or within the laundry room wall, and Doris had documented that. However, on Tuesday, she acted as if she had never before seen the outlet configuration the way it was.
"Aye-yi-yi! You can't have this like this. It has to be attached to the wall!" she jabbed. My wife (Mish-mash mousse) reminded her that she had viewed this before, and that it was maintenance's responsibility to fix it.
Doris: "They might not be able to fix this, and if they can't they'll take your dryer."
MMM: "They can't take MY dryer!"
D, defiantly: "Well, your husband's going to have to affix this to the wall." MMM: "Wait. You're telling me maintenance can't do it, but my husband, who's NOT an electrician, can??"
D: "It's easy. Just get some T-hooks (What the hey are those?) and put them through the wire."
MMM: Put a hook through a wire? Are you insane?
D, dumbfounded: "Well, turn off all the electricity first!"
MMM, resigned: "Well, where exactly should he mount it?"
D, grabbing the outlet box: "Right here, next to the washer drain." MMM: "We're not gonna do that! You've got free-flowing water right there!!!
D, after a brief, pseudo-thoughtful pause: "...Oh, yeah, I guess that probably wouldn't be too good there..."
Yeah, a housing manager who A) doesn't have a clue; B) offers "expert" advise on matters she knows nothing about; and C) expects her tenants to take care of everything while she takes responsibility for nothing.
LOOOOOOOO-SER!!!
Friday, April 07, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
And the Darwin goes to...
Thanks to "Dr. Dad" (aka my father) for relaying this to me...
As I have mentioned on my profile, I have created the "Stupies," awarded to purveyors of extreme stupidity. Dr. Dad has notified me that there IS actually an "official" award given for terminal lackus intellectualus-- the Darwins. These are awarded every year to the person(s) who died in the most stupid manner, "thereby removing themselves from the gene pool." I will type this verbatim, as provided by the aforementioned Dr. Dad.
Two (local) men were injured when their pickup truck left the road and struck a tree. The sheriff's deputy who reported the accident said that Thurston Poole, 33, and Billy Ray Wallis, 38, [Sounds like a pair of characters from Hee-Haw!] were returning home after a frog gigging trip [What the royal stink is THAT?]on an overcast night. Poole's pickup truck's lights malfunctioned. The 2 men concluded that the headlight fuse on the older-model truck had burned out. As a replacement fuse was not available, Wallis noticed that the .22 caliber bullet from his pistol fit perfectly into the fuse box next to the steering wheel. Upon inserting the bullet, the headlights again began to operate properly. After traveling approximately 20 miles, the bullet apparently overheated, discharged, and struck Poole in the testicles. The vehicle swerved, exited the pavement, and struck a tree. Poole suffered only minor cuts and bruises, but will require extensive surgery to repair the damage to his testicles, which will never again operate as intended. [TMI!!!]
(Though Poole and Wallis did not die as a result of their misadventure-- as normally required by Darwin Award rules, it can be argued that Poole DID, in fact, effectively remove himself from the gene pool.)
Too stinkin' funny! Except maybe to "Mr." Poole, essentially now a neo-eunuch.
Thanks for the great laugh, Dr. Dad!
As I have mentioned on my profile, I have created the "Stupies," awarded to purveyors of extreme stupidity. Dr. Dad has notified me that there IS actually an "official" award given for terminal lackus intellectualus-- the Darwins. These are awarded every year to the person(s) who died in the most stupid manner, "thereby removing themselves from the gene pool." I will type this verbatim, as provided by the aforementioned Dr. Dad.
Two (local) men were injured when their pickup truck left the road and struck a tree. The sheriff's deputy who reported the accident said that Thurston Poole, 33, and Billy Ray Wallis, 38, [Sounds like a pair of characters from Hee-Haw!] were returning home after a frog gigging trip [What the royal stink is THAT?]on an overcast night. Poole's pickup truck's lights malfunctioned. The 2 men concluded that the headlight fuse on the older-model truck had burned out. As a replacement fuse was not available, Wallis noticed that the .22 caliber bullet from his pistol fit perfectly into the fuse box next to the steering wheel. Upon inserting the bullet, the headlights again began to operate properly. After traveling approximately 20 miles, the bullet apparently overheated, discharged, and struck Poole in the testicles. The vehicle swerved, exited the pavement, and struck a tree. Poole suffered only minor cuts and bruises, but will require extensive surgery to repair the damage to his testicles, which will never again operate as intended. [TMI!!!]
(Though Poole and Wallis did not die as a result of their misadventure-- as normally required by Darwin Award rules, it can be argued that Poole DID, in fact, effectively remove himself from the gene pool.)
Too stinkin' funny! Except maybe to "Mr." Poole, essentially now a neo-eunuch.
Thanks for the great laugh, Dr. Dad!
Monday, April 03, 2006
Wanted: Anatomy refresher course
Yesterday, my mother-in-law was having a telephone conversation with her sister, "Midge." Mom was telling Midge, a retired Episcopalian priest, what was new in our neck of the woods. My wife came up in conversation. Mom noted, "(Mish-mash mousse) is taking some courses at Mt. Martha College* to work toward graduate credits with her teaching certificate."
Midge was impressed. "Wow, that's great. I'm really proud of her. I'm glad she has the balls to do that."
Mom paused, somewhat stunned, and said, "Um, actually, no, she doesn't!"
Now, THAT'S taking things literal!
*Name of college changed. Just 'cause I felt like it.
Midge was impressed. "Wow, that's great. I'm really proud of her. I'm glad she has the balls to do that."
Mom paused, somewhat stunned, and said, "Um, actually, no, she doesn't!"
Now, THAT'S taking things literal!
*Name of college changed. Just 'cause I felt like it.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Learning from others' mistakes
As a public service, I, Mr. Incredulous, would like to address a potentially serious problem that you can avoid by NOT following the sad but true example of an acquaintance of mine...
A few years ago, "Doug" was making home-made salsa. He used to grow the chili peppers and tomatoes in his own garden, and upon harvesting them, he'd finely chop them all up, can them, and save some, while giving jars of his creation to many of his friends. One day, Doug was chopping away at some chilis, when suddenly he felt nature's call. That's right, dear friends, his bladder had reached the point of no return. Without a second thought, Doug went into the bathroom. Moments later, he emerged, wincing and bending in excruciating pain. His wife asked, "What's the matter?"
Between gasps of breath, Doug replies, "...Forgot to wash my hands!!!"
DON'T let salsa come between your hands and... er, you!
A few years ago, "Doug" was making home-made salsa. He used to grow the chili peppers and tomatoes in his own garden, and upon harvesting them, he'd finely chop them all up, can them, and save some, while giving jars of his creation to many of his friends. One day, Doug was chopping away at some chilis, when suddenly he felt nature's call. That's right, dear friends, his bladder had reached the point of no return. Without a second thought, Doug went into the bathroom. Moments later, he emerged, wincing and bending in excruciating pain. His wife asked, "What's the matter?"
Between gasps of breath, Doug replies, "...Forgot to wash my hands!!!"
DON'T let salsa come between your hands and... er, you!
Saturday, April 01, 2006
......WHY???
I was doing my weekly grocery shopping in Wal-mart this morning, and I suddenly heard a middle-aged man call to (assummably) his wife, "Hold on, dear. I've got to go back over to Home and Garden to buy a bag of squirrel food."
BUY squirrel food? Fer cryin' in the sink, squirrels eat GARBAGE. Why are you wasting money on a bag of food for them?
BUY squirrel food?? Dude, squirrels eat garbage and spread it all around. Why are you encouraging them to make a mess that I can only guess your wife will have to clean up?
BUY squirrel food??? Great, let's have a horde of noisy, disease-carrying rodents scampering around your neighborhood. That's sure to buy you friends!
Not a good product. Even a dumber consumer.
(Sorry, PerpChoc, but I think one's better off sticking with the salt-free nuts!)
BUY squirrel food? Fer cryin' in the sink, squirrels eat GARBAGE. Why are you wasting money on a bag of food for them?
BUY squirrel food?? Dude, squirrels eat garbage and spread it all around. Why are you encouraging them to make a mess that I can only guess your wife will have to clean up?
BUY squirrel food??? Great, let's have a horde of noisy, disease-carrying rodents scampering around your neighborhood. That's sure to buy you friends!
Not a good product. Even a dumber consumer.
(Sorry, PerpChoc, but I think one's better off sticking with the salt-free nuts!)
Friday, March 31, 2006
You've got scam! I mean, spam! Er, MAIL!
Credits for this piece go to Chuck Shepard from News of the Weird, published by United Press Syndicate. It is printed word-for-word, and to go on record, I do not claim any originality of my own. Except, as "Kelso" would put it, the BUUUUUUUUURN at the end!
Prominent neuroscientist Louis A. Gottschalk, still professionally active at age 89, lost about $3 million of his family trust over a 10-year period to Nigerian e-mail scammers, according to his son, who wants an Orange County, CA, judge to remove his father as the estate's administrator. In fact, Dr. Gottschalk has continued to pay money on another scam because the new recipients are "different Nigerians," according to the son's description of a conversation with his father.
Actually, I really have nothing to add to this. All that comes to mind is the old adage, "Once a sucker, always a sucker."
Prominent neuroscientist Louis A. Gottschalk, still professionally active at age 89, lost about $3 million of his family trust over a 10-year period to Nigerian e-mail scammers, according to his son, who wants an Orange County, CA, judge to remove his father as the estate's administrator. In fact, Dr. Gottschalk has continued to pay money on another scam because the new recipients are "different Nigerians," according to the son's description of a conversation with his father.
Actually, I really have nothing to add to this. All that comes to mind is the old adage, "Once a sucker, always a sucker."
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Confirmed: Tom Cruise IS nuts (.com!)
The world is about to be "blessed" by the birth of, as the tabs are calling it, "TomKitten." What never ceases to amaze me is how unrealistic, unsympathetic and illogical Tom continues to be when it comes to the birthing process. The latest news, from the Cruise's PR gal, is that Mr. Scientology, out of the kindness of his heart, bought Katie an iPod, featuring 300 of her favorite (relaxing) tunes so that she can listen to them during her intense contractions and labor. One catch: she MUST have the headphones on, and the volume must be low, so as to not disturb the audible sterility of the room while the baby enters the world!
Now, I have a couple of things to say. First, I have stood by my wife for the births of our 3 children. She didn't scream and moan, and was relatively peaceful during the births, but my no means was she silent! I know that's part of the process. After all, you're pushing a human out of your body! Anybody who attempts to dictate to women that there's no reason for noise or stress during labor just plain doesn't get it.
Second, I highly doubt that Katie's going to want headphones jammed in her ears while every muscle, capillary and pore strain against the forces of nature. My wife's mindset was simply, "Let's get this done!"
Finally: remember, scientology was created, and is supported by delusional men. Men obviously don't know the first thing about child birth, other than it's something women do. To ask a woman to be completely silent during this time is unfair and just plain wrong. What I think is that Katie should be allowed to have a long rod by her bed-side. Then, every time a contraction hits, she should pick up the rod and strike Tom in the genitalia. Let's see if HE could keep quiet under such duress!
To use the language of Star Trek, quite obviously, Tom's neural net has shorted out! Perhaps what he really, really needs is a good shrink! (Even though they're "evil!")
Now, I have a couple of things to say. First, I have stood by my wife for the births of our 3 children. She didn't scream and moan, and was relatively peaceful during the births, but my no means was she silent! I know that's part of the process. After all, you're pushing a human out of your body! Anybody who attempts to dictate to women that there's no reason for noise or stress during labor just plain doesn't get it.
Second, I highly doubt that Katie's going to want headphones jammed in her ears while every muscle, capillary and pore strain against the forces of nature. My wife's mindset was simply, "Let's get this done!"
Finally: remember, scientology was created, and is supported by delusional men. Men obviously don't know the first thing about child birth, other than it's something women do. To ask a woman to be completely silent during this time is unfair and just plain wrong. What I think is that Katie should be allowed to have a long rod by her bed-side. Then, every time a contraction hits, she should pick up the rod and strike Tom in the genitalia. Let's see if HE could keep quiet under such duress!
To use the language of Star Trek, quite obviously, Tom's neural net has shorted out! Perhaps what he really, really needs is a good shrink! (Even though they're "evil!")
American "I Dull"
For those of you who keep up with the hit reality series on FOX, "American Idol," you know that the contestants are quite diverse. You have the street dude, Eliot; the young prodigy, Paris; the struggling actor, Ace; the rocker, Chris; and of course, who can forget the airhead, Kelly!
Kelly Pickler is a young, backwards, poster-girl hick who, up until this competition, has never been outside her little mountain community, nestled in the hills of Western NC. And boy, does it show!
A couple of weeks ago, she sang a country rendition of an old 50's song. (Though I despise country, she did fairly well with it!) The judges raved, and Simon Cowell called her performance "Sultry and ballsy," to which Kelly loudly drawled,
"What's a 'ballsy'?"
Two weeks earlier, Simon, who obviously has a major infatuation with the gal, called her "A naughty little mink," and Pickler repeatedly asked, "What's a minks??"
I sure hope she sticks to singing and never attempts songwriting!
BTW, Kelly is the tabbed favorite contestant by www.votefortheworst.com, which says a lot.
Kelly Pickler is a young, backwards, poster-girl hick who, up until this competition, has never been outside her little mountain community, nestled in the hills of Western NC. And boy, does it show!
A couple of weeks ago, she sang a country rendition of an old 50's song. (Though I despise country, she did fairly well with it!) The judges raved, and Simon Cowell called her performance "Sultry and ballsy," to which Kelly loudly drawled,
"What's a 'ballsy'?"
Two weeks earlier, Simon, who obviously has a major infatuation with the gal, called her "A naughty little mink," and Pickler repeatedly asked, "What's a minks??"
I sure hope she sticks to singing and never attempts songwriting!
BTW, Kelly is the tabbed favorite contestant by www.votefortheworst.com, which says a lot.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Cat "arrested" while owner continues gross negligence
Oh, come ON. Yet more proof at the ineptitudeness of American government on all levels.
You mean to tell me you've put this menacing cat (who, all joking aside, is causing great bodily harm and risk) under "house arrest," and the owner still hasn't taken this beast for a declawing and distemper shots? WHO should be the one penalized here? Right now, due to the boneheads at city hall, the residents of Fairfield, CT are!
I wonder-- when served the summons from animal control, did "Lewis" shred the warrant?
You mean to tell me you've put this menacing cat (who, all joking aside, is causing great bodily harm and risk) under "house arrest," and the owner still hasn't taken this beast for a declawing and distemper shots? WHO should be the one penalized here? Right now, due to the boneheads at city hall, the residents of Fairfield, CT are!
I wonder-- when served the summons from animal control, did "Lewis" shred the warrant?
Monday, March 27, 2006
Service with a brain seizure
As I mentioned before on this blog, buffet restaurants are such a mixed blessing...
This evening, my family and I treated ourselves to dinner out (The state tax refund came in!) and we went to the buffet, mainly because we know everybody, including our finicky kids, will eat a good meal. My wife went up to the food bar to fill her plate, when she spotted a pre-teen with a plateful ahead of her. The boy had just finished getting an item when one of the food-prep servers (who, BTW, had a major shag do and no hairnet!) walked up with an apathetic swagger and knocked the plate, which was sitting on the edge of the bar counter, onto the floor. Food was everywhere. The slow-witted adolescent looked down at the pile on his feet and the floor and mumbled, "Oops. Did I just do that?"
The stunned customer doted, "Yeah..."
Server looks down again, then at the kid. "Did you just put that food on there?"
"Yeah!" the agitated consumer stated.
Server looks down, slowly bends over and grabs a large piece of steak in his bare hands. "Was this your meat?"
"Yes!"
Moment of silence. Then server, with meat still in his paw, drawls, "Uh, were you done with that?"
No, now that you've blessed it with your grubby touch, I'm gonna take it to my table and eat it!
I was SO glad I had already gotten all my food before this incident...
This evening, my family and I treated ourselves to dinner out (The state tax refund came in!) and we went to the buffet, mainly because we know everybody, including our finicky kids, will eat a good meal. My wife went up to the food bar to fill her plate, when she spotted a pre-teen with a plateful ahead of her. The boy had just finished getting an item when one of the food-prep servers (who, BTW, had a major shag do and no hairnet!) walked up with an apathetic swagger and knocked the plate, which was sitting on the edge of the bar counter, onto the floor. Food was everywhere. The slow-witted adolescent looked down at the pile on his feet and the floor and mumbled, "Oops. Did I just do that?"
The stunned customer doted, "Yeah..."
Server looks down again, then at the kid. "Did you just put that food on there?"
"Yeah!" the agitated consumer stated.
Server looks down, slowly bends over and grabs a large piece of steak in his bare hands. "Was this your meat?"
"Yes!"
Moment of silence. Then server, with meat still in his paw, drawls, "Uh, were you done with that?"
No, now that you've blessed it with your grubby touch, I'm gonna take it to my table and eat it!
I was SO glad I had already gotten all my food before this incident...
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Eternally pregnant, 2006-style
My wife and I shared a chuckle as we poured over the coupons in Sunday's paper. We spotted an ad/promotion for Similac. (For those not in the know, that's baby formula.) In big bold green letters (set against a pink background--hideous!!) it reads, "Mom's $130K Payday! You could win $130,000! ...A recent study [by Salary.com] showed that a mom's salary should be about $130,000 US. (Kris, you'd be agreeable to that, wouldn't you?) Enter for your chance to win..."
The contest sounds great! It really draws your interest, UNTIL... Yep, gotta read the fine print.
"Open to mothers of the 50 U.S. or D.C. 18 or older who are mothers of children 12 months or younger (Oh, crap!) or expectant mothers whole child is due within 10 months."
OK, last time I checked, 40 weeks equals 9 months, and one usually doesn't know she is pregnant until well after gestation, most likely 1 month along at the very least. If you need to wait 44 weeks from that point, you are long overdue for a much needed C-section!!!
The contest sounds great! It really draws your interest, UNTIL... Yep, gotta read the fine print.
"Open to mothers of the 50 U.S. or D.C. 18 or older who are mothers of children 12 months or younger (Oh, crap!) or expectant mothers whole child is due within 10 months."
OK, last time I checked, 40 weeks equals 9 months, and one usually doesn't know she is pregnant until well after gestation, most likely 1 month along at the very least. If you need to wait 44 weeks from that point, you are long overdue for a much needed C-section!!!
The few. The proud. The really, really old.
It appears that American military intelligence shortcomings are not just limited to the CIA. Somebody in the recruiting department of the U.S. Marines also has suffered from a case of brain flaccidity.
Hmm. Unique language skills? Maybe said recruiter thought "old people noises" was a whole new form of linguistic communication.
Could you picture boot camp for this lady? The drill sergeant would yell, "Toss that walker, private! Drop and give me 30!!!"
"Seventy-eight is too old, obviously." Gee, I guess it's a good thing the USMC didn't try to recruit that 100-year-old L.A. transit worker who just retired! Let's not sign up somebody with a strong work ethic!
Hmm. Unique language skills? Maybe said recruiter thought "old people noises" was a whole new form of linguistic communication.
Could you picture boot camp for this lady? The drill sergeant would yell, "Toss that walker, private! Drop and give me 30!!!"
"Seventy-eight is too old, obviously." Gee, I guess it's a good thing the USMC didn't try to recruit that 100-year-old L.A. transit worker who just retired! Let's not sign up somebody with a strong work ethic!
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Unorganizational skills
An acquaintance of my wife and I has been attempting to head up a fly-by-night homeschool support group the past couple of years. While big on ideas and dreams, "Charlotte" is extremely challenged when it comes to matters of practicality. She even conveys her plans of grandeur via a bulk E-mail list, of which we were, until this week, a part of. Charlotte has tried to plan special speakers, field trips and general support sessions-- mostly in her home, which I'm sorry to say, isn't exactly the cleanest spot on earth-- that are very poorly attended. She begs for responses and feedbacks in her E-mailings, but all indications point to this plea falling on deaf ears.
The straw that broke the back was in her last contact. "I've continued to pour my heart and soul into planning these events, but they haven't panned out. Therefore, we (Who's we?) will be holding our next support meeting in the fellowship hall of the Gray Roof Church of God* this Thursday evening, since no one comes."
Ummmm.... HUH? You're going to tie up a church's fellowship hall for... Yourself? Sure, I guess that makes sense. What better place to plan a happening that nobody attends than in a church?
*Name of church changed. Any similarity between this posting and a real church's alibi is purely coincidental!
The straw that broke the back was in her last contact. "I've continued to pour my heart and soul into planning these events, but they haven't panned out. Therefore, we (Who's we?) will be holding our next support meeting in the fellowship hall of the Gray Roof Church of God* this Thursday evening, since no one comes."
Ummmm.... HUH? You're going to tie up a church's fellowship hall for... Yourself? Sure, I guess that makes sense. What better place to plan a happening that nobody attends than in a church?
*Name of church changed. Any similarity between this posting and a real church's alibi is purely coincidental!
Friday, March 24, 2006
Wow. This took some GALL!
Over the course of the past 3 weeks or so, I and the others in my department at work (Al, Sam and Joe) have gotten completely fed up with our counterpart-- or, should I say, useless part-- Bart. He is everything a team player is not. He never aids anyone else with their tasks, even when asked; he purposely does things to make work harder for the rest of us; and, he's as lazy as all get out, milking time and tasks for all they're worth. (Problem is, he gets away with it, because somehow, he's become Jan's little pet, and can do no wrong.) When one of us ask for a hand from Bart, he arrogantly replies, "I'm busy" or "I've got stuff to do." Today, we agreed as a group to exercise the law of returns upon our redneck rebel.
We staged a strike of sorts: no matter how busy Bart got, none of us would offer assistance. Today, Bart was working on the shipping line. Normally speaking, the person who is pulling boxes from the back to relay to the stocker would be the one who lends a hand to the shipper. Sam was in that role today. Apparently, right before our morning break, Bart got hammered with a heavy workload. After the bell for break rang, Bart, Sam, Joe and Al all headed outside for a smoke. Indignantly, Bart approached Sam and asked, "Are you pulling today?"
Sam informed him, "Yes."
Bart then mustered up his moxie (although that's not the word I would use, but for the sake of the readership...) and ranted, "You're supposed to come up and help me!"
Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!
Oh, yeah, "I'm busy!"
We staged a strike of sorts: no matter how busy Bart got, none of us would offer assistance. Today, Bart was working on the shipping line. Normally speaking, the person who is pulling boxes from the back to relay to the stocker would be the one who lends a hand to the shipper. Sam was in that role today. Apparently, right before our morning break, Bart got hammered with a heavy workload. After the bell for break rang, Bart, Sam, Joe and Al all headed outside for a smoke. Indignantly, Bart approached Sam and asked, "Are you pulling today?"
Sam informed him, "Yes."
Bart then mustered up his moxie (although that's not the word I would use, but for the sake of the readership...) and ranted, "You're supposed to come up and help me!"
Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!
Oh, yeah, "I'm busy!"
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Where Would Jesus Be Deported To?
When I got home from work and logged on, this crazy news story from AOL greeted me...
Now, I'm formerly an ordained minister, and am quite well-learned in regards to Bible passages, customs, traditions and history; so, I'm sorry, Hil, but I fail to see the correlation between Jesus and the Immigration and Naturalization Service. Jesus grew up under the rule of a foreign world power and traveled only between Roman provinces. The US has a border patrol, concerns with national security, regulations regarding visas, green cards, et. al. The Good Samaritan also traveled along a route well known and used by Jew and Samaritan alike.
Plainly, this is one reason why politics and religion don't mix.
Although "Dubya" has unleashed many verbal blunders of his own, (and where I once was one of his staunch supporters-- no more) this faux pas makes it clear to me that Ms. Clinton would NOT be a fitting candidate for President. Hopefully, saner minds will prevail.
Now, I'm formerly an ordained minister, and am quite well-learned in regards to Bible passages, customs, traditions and history; so, I'm sorry, Hil, but I fail to see the correlation between Jesus and the Immigration and Naturalization Service. Jesus grew up under the rule of a foreign world power and traveled only between Roman provinces. The US has a border patrol, concerns with national security, regulations regarding visas, green cards, et. al. The Good Samaritan also traveled along a route well known and used by Jew and Samaritan alike.
Plainly, this is one reason why politics and religion don't mix.
Although "Dubya" has unleashed many verbal blunders of his own, (and where I once was one of his staunch supporters-- no more) this faux pas makes it clear to me that Ms. Clinton would NOT be a fitting candidate for President. Hopefully, saner minds will prevail.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Weather buffoons
While the Weather Channel does provide much information about weather trends, conditions, forecasting, etc., they are obviously NOT experts in the use of the English language.
This morning's "Local on the 8's" was as follows:
Today: Partly cloudy skies giving way to clouds in the afternoon.
Say what? Clouds yielding to clouds?
Aaaaaaand... My old fave, Tom Clark, chief meteorologist for WNEP-16 last night described today's forecast as "brisky."
Keep up the great work, Tom, and watch out for "partly coudy" days.
This morning's "Local on the 8's" was as follows:
Today: Partly cloudy skies giving way to clouds in the afternoon.
Say what? Clouds yielding to clouds?
Aaaaaaand... My old fave, Tom Clark, chief meteorologist for WNEP-16 last night described today's forecast as "brisky."
Keep up the great work, Tom, and watch out for "partly coudy" days.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Fresh-brewed stupidity first thing in the morning
Every morning at work, we start by having an update on our numbers, the daily attack plan, etc... This morning's intelligence deficiency occurred in two parts, just seconds from each other, as Jan covered our quarterly Customer Satisfaction Index. Our clients had provided us with feedback and conveyed how many of them were pleased with the products and services we gave them. Most areas were good...
"Correct garments received, 99.6%... Packaging, 92.8%..."
Then, I was flabbergasted when Jan unleashed the next statistic having to do with emblems being placed on the shirts in the correct spot and with the durability required by the customers.
"Trim application, 84.1%. Not bad," she quipped.
NOT BAD? You mean to tell me that a whopping 16% of our garments either had the emblems in the wrong place, or weren't fastened correctly? And that's GOOD??? Boy, have we let our standards slide or what!
Following the indicator of eventual corporate doom, "Cathy," one of the ladies in special operations (the department that applies the emblems) raised her hand and asked, "Excuse me, Jan, but what's 'Trim Application'?" I gawked at her incredulously, and then audibly heard my thoughts from our auditor, "Margie."
"It's what you do ALL day!!!" she blurted.
I lost it, burying my head in my hands to conceal my laughter.
Not a good tone by which to set the rest of the day to, is it?
"Correct garments received, 99.6%... Packaging, 92.8%..."
Then, I was flabbergasted when Jan unleashed the next statistic having to do with emblems being placed on the shirts in the correct spot and with the durability required by the customers.
"Trim application, 84.1%. Not bad," she quipped.
NOT BAD? You mean to tell me that a whopping 16% of our garments either had the emblems in the wrong place, or weren't fastened correctly? And that's GOOD??? Boy, have we let our standards slide or what!
Following the indicator of eventual corporate doom, "Cathy," one of the ladies in special operations (the department that applies the emblems) raised her hand and asked, "Excuse me, Jan, but what's 'Trim Application'?" I gawked at her incredulously, and then audibly heard my thoughts from our auditor, "Margie."
"It's what you do ALL day!!!" she blurted.
I lost it, burying my head in my hands to conceal my laughter.
Not a good tone by which to set the rest of the day to, is it?
Monday, March 20, 2006
2nd today:I laughed SO hard
I don't watch NBC's "Scrubs," but after viewing the following promo, I just might!
VOICE-OVER: Thursday on NBC, an all-new "Scrubs!" The ER has a new mascot!
DOCTOR: It's a hypodermic needle. Say hello to friendly Mr. Prick! (deep, thoughtful pause) Uh, ...We should probably change the name...
Yes, I know-- intentionally stupid. And hilarious!!!
I'm going to hell now, aren't I?
VOICE-OVER: Thursday on NBC, an all-new "Scrubs!" The ER has a new mascot!
DOCTOR: It's a hypodermic needle. Say hello to friendly Mr. Prick! (deep, thoughtful pause) Uh, ...We should probably change the name...
Yes, I know-- intentionally stupid. And hilarious!!!
I'm going to hell now, aren't I?
Numbskull newsmen at work
Today, WNEP-16 (local ABC affiliate) led off their newscast with the story of a fire that destroyed a home, leaving 2 families homeless.
STUPIDITY TANGENT: When interviewed, one of the victims had this to say about his experience...
"I woke up and my neighbor was pounding on the door yelling, 'Fire!', and I didn't know what was going on. So I run downstairs and went outside, and as I went through the front doorway, I see this wall of flames just to my right, and I'm like, (in a Mr. Bill voice) 'Oh, no!'"
Lemme tell you, if I exited a building and a raging inferno was inches from me, I wouldn't be thinking, Oh, no!I'd be thinking, Oh, ________!!!!!!!!!"
ANYHOO, the true stupidity shone through when reporter Bob Reynolds questioned the neighbor across the street. Seems he had a security camera on his front porch, and captured an arsonist in action...
MAN: I gave the police the tape, and I'm glad it's in their hands now. I hope they catch this guy.
REYNOLDS: And why is that?
MAN, after a double-take,incredulously: For the safety of the community, of course.
Of course, what this man really wanted to say was, "What, are you a complete doofus, Bob?"
STUPIDITY TANGENT: When interviewed, one of the victims had this to say about his experience...
"I woke up and my neighbor was pounding on the door yelling, 'Fire!', and I didn't know what was going on. So I run downstairs and went outside, and as I went through the front doorway, I see this wall of flames just to my right, and I'm like, (in a Mr. Bill voice) 'Oh, no!'"
Lemme tell you, if I exited a building and a raging inferno was inches from me, I wouldn't be thinking, Oh, no!I'd be thinking, Oh, ________!!!!!!!!!"
ANYHOO, the true stupidity shone through when reporter Bob Reynolds questioned the neighbor across the street. Seems he had a security camera on his front porch, and captured an arsonist in action...
MAN: I gave the police the tape, and I'm glad it's in their hands now. I hope they catch this guy.
REYNOLDS: And why is that?
MAN, after a double-take,incredulously: For the safety of the community, of course.
Of course, what this man really wanted to say was, "What, are you a complete doofus, Bob?"
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Even more pointless advertising
A local dining establishment apparently struggled with the script submitted to area radio stations, and evidently couldn't think up a good slogan. So, of course, the stations produced it exactly as it was written...
"Remember, at Marvelous Muggs, it's ALWAYS time to eat!"
Time to eat? Oh, rats, I thought you actually sold marvelous mugs! I was looking for a souvenir, darn it all!
"Remember, at Marvelous Muggs, it's ALWAYS time to eat!"
Time to eat? Oh, rats, I thought you actually sold marvelous mugs! I was looking for a souvenir, darn it all!
Saturday, March 18, 2006
This is NOT stupid. Only amazing!
I'm taking a break today from stupidity to post an incredible story I just read.
Please take the time to read this story. It is certainly great to know there are still decent, thoughtful, caring people on this little speck of dust we call Earth.
Notice the key phrase in this tale: "I didn't need it." The good feeling to help someone in need certainly is unequivocal. I know many of us don't have a grand laying around, but ask yourself...
"What can I do to touch someone else today?"
Please take the time to read this story. It is certainly great to know there are still decent, thoughtful, caring people on this little speck of dust we call Earth.
Notice the key phrase in this tale: "I didn't need it." The good feeling to help someone in need certainly is unequivocal. I know many of us don't have a grand laying around, but ask yourself...
"What can I do to touch someone else today?"
Friday, March 17, 2006
So what exactly IS your type?
Earlier this week, my wife (mish-mash mousse) had an appointment with our housing site manager to recertify for another year. (If you don't know, we live in federal housing, but hey! It's OK. It's quiet, clean and we have a roof over our heads.) Our manager, "Doris," is a crass, miserable, rude, relatively unattractive middle-aged gal who smokes like a chimney, never smiles and doesn't give a care about anything, except to hate everything. By her own admission, she hates children, cats, and oh yeah, people on the whole. This confession has been made repeatedly to almost everyone she encounters. (I don't hate people; I just think that many need to get a clue and stop being so stupid!)
During the re-cert process, which was overseen by a county assistant, "Jill," Doris needed to verify information on our food stamp amount, and asked MMM who to contact at the county assistance office...
MMM: Well, good luck getting a hold of him. He never answers his phone and he seldom returns written correspondence.
D: Oh, is that "Larimie"?
MMM: No, it's "Norris."
D: It's too bad it's not Larimie. Everyone likes Larimie! You'd like him! He's always after me to go out with him. He works out, and he's a real sharp dresser. Yeah, he's a real hottie. He looks just like George Clooney. You know, he keeps asking me out, but he's just not my type.
Yeah, like you're truly that lucky.
Jill, who personally knows most of the employees in the assistance office, retorted, "So, have you told him that yet?"
Mish-mash had a most difficult time keeping a straight face...
During the re-cert process, which was overseen by a county assistant, "Jill," Doris needed to verify information on our food stamp amount, and asked MMM who to contact at the county assistance office...
MMM: Well, good luck getting a hold of him. He never answers his phone and he seldom returns written correspondence.
D: Oh, is that "Larimie"?
MMM: No, it's "Norris."
D: It's too bad it's not Larimie. Everyone likes Larimie! You'd like him! He's always after me to go out with him. He works out, and he's a real sharp dresser. Yeah, he's a real hottie. He looks just like George Clooney. You know, he keeps asking me out, but he's just not my type.
Yeah, like you're truly that lucky.
Jill, who personally knows most of the employees in the assistance office, retorted, "So, have you told him that yet?"
Mish-mash had a most difficult time keeping a straight face...
Thursday, March 16, 2006
2nd today: Uh, no thanks, doc, I'll pass...
As I was driving today, I took particular notice (for the first time) of a sign in front of a medical office. I've passed it many times before, but today, Dahhh-ta-da-dummmm! Fresh revelation! It's amazing how much stupidity is right under your nose, and you often don't even (initially) recognize it! The sign read,
RAPHEAL HEART GROUP
Specializing in cardiovascular disease
Shouldn't that read, "Specializing in cardiovascular treatment"?
Remind me not to see these guys if I have trouble with palpitations, high pressure, et. al.
RAPHEAL HEART GROUP
Specializing in cardiovascular disease
Shouldn't that read, "Specializing in cardiovascular treatment"?
Remind me not to see these guys if I have trouble with palpitations, high pressure, et. al.
The media assumes you don't know...
As I sat watching TV the other night, a tease for the local news came on. (Your guess, GJ, was this the teleprompter's doing, or just short-sightedness on the part of the anchor?)
"Coming up on the Fox News at 10, the jury's deadlocked in the Hugo Selinski murder trial. What does that mean? Find out tonight!"
No comment.
"Coming up on the Fox News at 10, the jury's deadlocked in the Hugo Selinski murder trial. What does that mean? Find out tonight!"
No comment.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
2nd today: On the Air-head
As I was painfully subjugated to country music at work today-- sorry, country fans, but I find your choice in music absolutely revolting and comically simple-- I had to snicker at hearing a caller attempt to win tickets to a concert taking place in the area soon. The only thing one had to do was to tell the DJ "what was in common." The jockey listed the titles of three country songs and asked, "What do these three titles have in common?" The caller quickly blurted out, "Uh, they're all sung by male artists!"
"I'm sorry," the DJ chuckled, "That's not the information I was looking for!"
Flabbergasted, the caller responded, "Oh, *&$#@! Oh, uh... er... ...uh, I don't know!"
No kidding.
"I'm sorry," the DJ chuckled, "That's not the information I was looking for!"
Flabbergasted, the caller responded, "Oh, *&$#@! Oh, uh... er... ...uh, I don't know!"
No kidding.
The pinnacle of stupidity has been reached!
It don't get none stupider than this, Cletus...
If stupid is as stupid does, than this guy and his wife have fully earned the Forrest Gump Merit Badge of the 21st Century. Please do click on the link. If you love to shake your head at pure idiocy, it's worth it!
I have nothing else to say except this:
MORONS!
If stupid is as stupid does, than this guy and his wife have fully earned the Forrest Gump Merit Badge of the 21st Century. Please do click on the link. If you love to shake your head at pure idiocy, it's worth it!
I have nothing else to say except this:
MORONS!
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Overlooking the obvious
This past Friday, a local radio station just reported on the unfortunate death of an area man who drowned in a frozen pond. The Bradford County (PA) sheriff's department issued the following statement after the body was recovered: "The 60-year-old man was ice-fishing on a local pond in the unseasonably warm (about 55 degreed F) weather when it appears he fell through the thinning ice."
Oh, is that how that happens?
Oh, is that how that happens?
I believe you MAY be in error...
Special thanks to Chuck Shepherd/ News of the Weird via Universal Press Syndicate...
This past month, a 29-year old man was arrested for jumping over the fence at the White House. Police say the man was looking to meet up with Chelsea Clinton. The Capitol Police officer informed the man the Clintons no longer lived at the White House, but unfazed, the man insisted, "George Bush told me to jump the fence, and I jumped the fence."
Is that like Crazy Tom Cruise jumping the couch?
This past month, a 29-year old man was arrested for jumping over the fence at the White House. Police say the man was looking to meet up with Chelsea Clinton. The Capitol Police officer informed the man the Clintons no longer lived at the White House, but unfazed, the man insisted, "George Bush told me to jump the fence, and I jumped the fence."
Is that like Crazy Tom Cruise jumping the couch?
Saturday, March 11, 2006
3rd today: Bird-brain marketing
In Wally's World today, my wife and I were handed a free sample of Dial Body Wash. One of the packets was designed for men. At home, I took a look at the package, to find out if I'd really use this product. The slogan, "The Ultimate Clean Without Drying Skin" was simple and effective enough, but then the details got just plain weird...
"The Problem: Is it possible to remove odors and get skin really clean without drying skin?"
Isn't that the whole reason for bathing???
"The Result: Smooth skin and a really fresh, clean feeling."
NEWS FLASH: while a clean feeling is important to men, smooth skin is not!
"Other Good Stuff: Rich, foamy lather that rinses clean.
Hey, we're bathing, not shaving with this stuff!
"How to use: (like I need instructions!) 1) Squeeze gel onto washcloth, sponge, pouf, hands...Whatever. 2) Lather up. 3) Rinse off.
1) "Whatever"??? What do you put this stuff on, freaky marketing guy??? 2) Duh! 3) No, I'm gonna step out of the shower and go to work with this crap all over me!
"The Problem: Is it possible to remove odors and get skin really clean without drying skin?"
Isn't that the whole reason for bathing???
"The Result: Smooth skin and a really fresh, clean feeling."
NEWS FLASH: while a clean feeling is important to men, smooth skin is not!
"Other Good Stuff: Rich, foamy lather that rinses clean.
Hey, we're bathing, not shaving with this stuff!
"How to use: (like I need instructions!) 1) Squeeze gel onto washcloth, sponge, pouf, hands...Whatever. 2) Lather up. 3) Rinse off.
1) "Whatever"??? What do you put this stuff on, freaky marketing guy??? 2) Duh! 3) No, I'm gonna step out of the shower and go to work with this crap all over me!
2nd today: Follow-up to "Non-listening skills"
INSTRUCTIONS: If you are new to this post, or if you haven't visited in a few days, please scroll down 2 posts to "Non-listening skills" and read, then return to this post and finish the torrid tale...
Inventory day had arrived. As I previously released in my so-called talk with Jan, I had availed myself to additional service in order to assist with the busy day. Remember, the plan was: get the day's orders picked, processed and shipped, then shut everything down and begin counting.
That was the plan, until Jan decided to mess with the whole ball of wax. After our Friday's orders were picked, instead of beginning the inventory, Jan planned a whole ton of future orders into our system, and created more work. A LOT of it. Almost a full shift's work, in fact. I frantically tried to keep up with the load, pulling the materials called for to move to the pickers. The shift ends at 3:30, and at 1:30 I was still filling requests for garments. Then, Jan called back to my department.
"OK, you've got 40 more requests to process, and then I want you guys (in your department) to start scanning the back for inventory," she demanded.
I audibly guffawed. "That's not happening on our shift!"
Jan contradicted, "Yes, it will."
My patience expired and I pointed out, "Look, I already have 60 request to pull, plus this 40, plus we already have 3 cart-loads of cases to stock. It's NOT happening!"
The befuddlement returned, and Jan muttered in a slightly surprised tone, "Oh... Well, if that's the case, I'll get (my assistant) Pat back there."
Pat never came back. Instead, Jan herself graced us with her clumsy and dazed presence.
She started hauling the boxes off the carts onto the stocking line, despite the fact that she has a bad back. 10 minutes later, the intercom paged, "Jan you have a call on line 1. It's Wynona (the 2nd shift super)."
I couldn't wait to hear what feeble excuse Jan would come up with, so I positioned my forklift in such a manner as to be able to overhear her, yet look busy.
Jan stammered, "Hi, Wynona... ...No, we haven't started (counting) yet... ...No, we're still processing future work... ...Well, I'm sorry... ...I know that makes it difficult for you, but we're committed now... ...Yes, I know that now. I'm sorry..."
I rarely say this, but... "I TOLD you so!!!"
So, are you still insistent that you're not easily confused, Jan?
Inventory day had arrived. As I previously released in my so-called talk with Jan, I had availed myself to additional service in order to assist with the busy day. Remember, the plan was: get the day's orders picked, processed and shipped, then shut everything down and begin counting.
That was the plan, until Jan decided to mess with the whole ball of wax. After our Friday's orders were picked, instead of beginning the inventory, Jan planned a whole ton of future orders into our system, and created more work. A LOT of it. Almost a full shift's work, in fact. I frantically tried to keep up with the load, pulling the materials called for to move to the pickers. The shift ends at 3:30, and at 1:30 I was still filling requests for garments. Then, Jan called back to my department.
"OK, you've got 40 more requests to process, and then I want you guys (in your department) to start scanning the back for inventory," she demanded.
I audibly guffawed. "That's not happening on our shift!"
Jan contradicted, "Yes, it will."
My patience expired and I pointed out, "Look, I already have 60 request to pull, plus this 40, plus we already have 3 cart-loads of cases to stock. It's NOT happening!"
The befuddlement returned, and Jan muttered in a slightly surprised tone, "Oh... Well, if that's the case, I'll get (my assistant) Pat back there."
Pat never came back. Instead, Jan herself graced us with her clumsy and dazed presence.
She started hauling the boxes off the carts onto the stocking line, despite the fact that she has a bad back. 10 minutes later, the intercom paged, "Jan you have a call on line 1. It's Wynona (the 2nd shift super)."
I couldn't wait to hear what feeble excuse Jan would come up with, so I positioned my forklift in such a manner as to be able to overhear her, yet look busy.
Jan stammered, "Hi, Wynona... ...No, we haven't started (counting) yet... ...No, we're still processing future work... ...Well, I'm sorry... ...I know that makes it difficult for you, but we're committed now... ...Yes, I know that now. I'm sorry..."
I rarely say this, but... "I TOLD you so!!!"
So, are you still insistent that you're not easily confused, Jan?
Already got a head start
St. Patrick's Day in Northeastern PA means public drunkenness, a huge parade and general debauchery unparalleled by any other holiday. The green beer overflows into the streets, hootin' and hollerin' fills the air and you can't go anywhere without seeing somebody falling all over themselves. With that little bit of history established...
The local weekly tabloid "Electric City" regularly features a section called "We Asked... You Answered." This week's question: "Where's the place to be on Parade Day (March 11)?"
Most answers were clear and to the point, naming local pubs and eateries like "Farley's," "Tink's" and "The Banshee." 2 other responses were a bit more odd. One contains too much information (referred to as "TMI" from this point on in this blog), while the second hints at this post's title. First...
Shannon Graham, 24, offers, "It's gonna be my first time going (to the parade). Farley's I hear is the best especially the bartender that's gonna be bartending that day. The hottest guy and the hottest girl."
Huh?
Joellen "Smashed to Smithereens" Cerra answers a bit more vaguely. "Kegs of root beer and eggs at 6 a.m!"
OK, you're already bombed to Hiroshima, and you're gonna down root beer and eggs first thing in the morning?!? Can you say, "Mulligan Stew???"
The local weekly tabloid "Electric City" regularly features a section called "We Asked... You Answered." This week's question: "Where's the place to be on Parade Day (March 11)?"
Most answers were clear and to the point, naming local pubs and eateries like "Farley's," "Tink's" and "The Banshee." 2 other responses were a bit more odd. One contains too much information (referred to as "TMI" from this point on in this blog), while the second hints at this post's title. First...
Shannon Graham, 24, offers, "It's gonna be my first time going (to the parade). Farley's I hear is the best especially the bartender that's gonna be bartending that day. The hottest guy and the hottest girl."
Huh?
Joellen "Smashed to Smithereens" Cerra answers a bit more vaguely. "Kegs of root beer and eggs at 6 a.m!"
OK, you're already bombed to Hiroshima, and you're gonna down root beer and eggs first thing in the morning?!? Can you say, "Mulligan Stew???"
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Non-listening skills
I had a "conversation"-- if you can call it that-- with my shift super, Jan today. Our company inventory is tomorrow, and the basic plan for the day is as follows: pick Friday's orders, process and ship them, then get everyone on physical counts. In other words, second shift will do more counting that first. With that said...
Being that I have a background with inventory control, I offered to be flexible with my shift, either by changing shifts, swing-shifting or even working 4 hours OT. Jan replied, "I think it's best for us to have everyone we need on first so we can begin our counts as soon as possible."
Not shaken by that, I said, "OK, that's fine. Do you need me to stay after and assist with the counts?"
Silently, a mental lapse occurred. "No, I need you here at 7:00 in the morning."
My brain hemorrhaged at the obvious disconnect between the last exchange. "Yes, I understand that. What I'm saying is that I could stay later as well with OT."
(Wasn't that a clear-cut sentence? Apparently not...)
"Well, thanks, but I need you here at the start of first shift."
As the stupidity hanging in the air wrapped around my cerebral cortex, I hesitated, and deliberately spoke, "I WILL be here at 7:00. That's fine. I have no problem with that. What I'm asking is if you would like me to work 7 - 3:30, and then stay to help second shift out on their counts, so you have an extra hand to help expedite inventory counting."
A look of complete and utter befuddlement crossed Jan's face. She blankly stared at me for a moment, then finally found the unction to utter, "Well, I'm not sure how that's going to work out. I'll get back to you on that."
The moral of the story: Jan is NOT easily confused! ...I think... Perhaps... That is, well, ...er... ...What was the question?
Being that I have a background with inventory control, I offered to be flexible with my shift, either by changing shifts, swing-shifting or even working 4 hours OT. Jan replied, "I think it's best for us to have everyone we need on first so we can begin our counts as soon as possible."
Not shaken by that, I said, "OK, that's fine. Do you need me to stay after and assist with the counts?"
Silently, a mental lapse occurred. "No, I need you here at 7:00 in the morning."
My brain hemorrhaged at the obvious disconnect between the last exchange. "Yes, I understand that. What I'm saying is that I could stay later as well with OT."
(Wasn't that a clear-cut sentence? Apparently not...)
"Well, thanks, but I need you here at the start of first shift."
As the stupidity hanging in the air wrapped around my cerebral cortex, I hesitated, and deliberately spoke, "I WILL be here at 7:00. That's fine. I have no problem with that. What I'm asking is if you would like me to work 7 - 3:30, and then stay to help second shift out on their counts, so you have an extra hand to help expedite inventory counting."
A look of complete and utter befuddlement crossed Jan's face. She blankly stared at me for a moment, then finally found the unction to utter, "Well, I'm not sure how that's going to work out. I'll get back to you on that."
The moral of the story: Jan is NOT easily confused! ...I think... Perhaps... That is, well, ...er... ...What was the question?
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Super "bowl" down under, mate
This may win the award for the understatement of the year...
Seems America isn't the only Western-culture nation battling the Bulge. The Aussies are also "enlarging their territories," and experiencing an increasing amount of structural issues in the bathroom.
Standard Australia is undergoing a rigorous project to attempt to design a stronger toilet, and, as usual, somebody had to overstate the obvious. Steve Cummings, research head for the toilet manufacturer Caroma Dorf spouted, "If you are going to sit on it, you want it to hold you."
Gee, ya think?!?
"J'have a good day, Mick?"
"Nah. Got me arse stuck in the crapper when it broke." Got a big 'ol gash in the buttocks."
Seems America isn't the only Western-culture nation battling the Bulge. The Aussies are also "enlarging their territories," and experiencing an increasing amount of structural issues in the bathroom.
Standard Australia is undergoing a rigorous project to attempt to design a stronger toilet, and, as usual, somebody had to overstate the obvious. Steve Cummings, research head for the toilet manufacturer Caroma Dorf spouted, "If you are going to sit on it, you want it to hold you."
Gee, ya think?!?
"J'have a good day, Mick?"
"Nah. Got me arse stuck in the crapper when it broke." Got a big 'ol gash in the buttocks."
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Why would you say that?!?
Continuing on the theme of poorly chosen everyday phrases....
"I've gotta pee like a race horse!"
Why oh why is a race horse the standard for urination? Does a race horse go more often than any other horse? Did Secretariat have a smaller bladder than Mr. Ed? Has somebody taken the time to measure the quantity that a thoroughbred pees and compared it to other animals? (I don't doubt it!) Is the size of a human bladder the same as a horse's? And furthermore, what do the makers of products like Detrol think of this?
"Side affects are mild, and may include dry mouth, constipation and peeing like a race horse..."
"I've gotta pee like a race horse!"
Why oh why is a race horse the standard for urination? Does a race horse go more often than any other horse? Did Secretariat have a smaller bladder than Mr. Ed? Has somebody taken the time to measure the quantity that a thoroughbred pees and compared it to other animals? (I don't doubt it!) Is the size of a human bladder the same as a horse's? And furthermore, what do the makers of products like Detrol think of this?
"Side affects are mild, and may include dry mouth, constipation and peeing like a race horse..."
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Another senseless phrase
"This hurts like the dickens!"
Could somebody please tell me what dickens are? And what do they feel like? I know they apparently hurt a lot, but how does one go about comparing a sprain, bruise, etc. to dickens? And why are there ALWAYS more than one dicken? Where does "dickens" fit in on that pain chart in the hospital ER? You know, "On a scale of 1 - 10, please describe your pain." Is dickens a 7? A 5? Which also leads me to...
"It bled/oozed like a French pig."
When did a French pig became the standard for measuring bodily discharge? Does it HAVE to be French? Does a pig bleed more than a cow? Have you actually stood around to watch a pig get slaughtered? Did your paper cut bleed like a French pig? Wow. It must have hurt like the dickens!
Could somebody please tell me what dickens are? And what do they feel like? I know they apparently hurt a lot, but how does one go about comparing a sprain, bruise, etc. to dickens? And why are there ALWAYS more than one dicken? Where does "dickens" fit in on that pain chart in the hospital ER? You know, "On a scale of 1 - 10, please describe your pain." Is dickens a 7? A 5? Which also leads me to...
"It bled/oozed like a French pig."
When did a French pig became the standard for measuring bodily discharge? Does it HAVE to be French? Does a pig bleed more than a cow? Have you actually stood around to watch a pig get slaughtered? Did your paper cut bleed like a French pig? Wow. It must have hurt like the dickens!
And now, a stupid everyday saying
"It's raining cats and dogs out there."
OK, who was the SICK FREAK that first thought up this phrase? This wack-job actually envisions thousands of domesticated animals hurtling down from the sky on their way to a bloody death?!? And why cats and dogs? Why not fish and hampsters, or something else? Why must we abuse helpless canines and felines like it's going out of style?
Your input, Kurt?
OK, who was the SICK FREAK that first thought up this phrase? This wack-job actually envisions thousands of domesticated animals hurtling down from the sky on their way to a bloody death?!? And why cats and dogs? Why not fish and hampsters, or something else? Why must we abuse helpless canines and felines like it's going out of style?
Your input, Kurt?
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Not easily confused, eh?!
My supervisor's a complete moron, plain and simple.
Today, my department was having a ton of trouble keeping up with the order pickers, partly due to the fact that "Jan" took 2 of my department members out to do other "Non-value added" work. (...It's a business term for work that does not directly contribute to placing the product in the hands of the customers.)
All throughout the day, we got bombarded for "Emergency requests" for garments that I was preparing to place in the hands of the stocker, who would carry the garment to its designated location. The procedure for such a matter is to check the computer for the inventory totals. If a garment is being prepped for a move to its pick location, it will read "Incoming." In such an event, the picker sets aside that order request until the garment is in place.
Apparently, Jan didn't understand this extremely basic point of inventory, because she kept sending us emergencies. Finally, Jan came back to hand me 7 MORE emergencies.
"5 of these are on the stocking line right now. Why are you requesting these?" I voiced.
"Well, they're coming in as negative amounts on inventory," Jan tried to justify.
"Yeah, they're negative because that order has been processed into the system while the garment has not. If you just wait a few minutes, the stuff will be in stock!" I explained.
Jan just didn't get it. "Well, the system says we need it, so that's why I put in the requests."
And thank YOU for creating extra work for me when I'm already behind! D'OH!!!!
Today, my department was having a ton of trouble keeping up with the order pickers, partly due to the fact that "Jan" took 2 of my department members out to do other "Non-value added" work. (...It's a business term for work that does not directly contribute to placing the product in the hands of the customers.)
All throughout the day, we got bombarded for "Emergency requests" for garments that I was preparing to place in the hands of the stocker, who would carry the garment to its designated location. The procedure for such a matter is to check the computer for the inventory totals. If a garment is being prepped for a move to its pick location, it will read "Incoming." In such an event, the picker sets aside that order request until the garment is in place.
Apparently, Jan didn't understand this extremely basic point of inventory, because she kept sending us emergencies. Finally, Jan came back to hand me 7 MORE emergencies.
"5 of these are on the stocking line right now. Why are you requesting these?" I voiced.
"Well, they're coming in as negative amounts on inventory," Jan tried to justify.
"Yeah, they're negative because that order has been processed into the system while the garment has not. If you just wait a few minutes, the stuff will be in stock!" I explained.
Jan just didn't get it. "Well, the system says we need it, so that's why I put in the requests."
And thank YOU for creating extra work for me when I'm already behind! D'OH!!!!
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Supplemental to "Anti-leadership"
The day after my absence from work due to illness, "Jan" once again gathered the troops for the daily update, covering the pertinent numbers. Suddenly, she stopped. She glared at the paper with the info written on it, and looked completely perplexed.
"No, this can't be right," she stammered. "OK, well, I'll give you all the correct number later, because this isn't right. You know, I don't get easily confused."
OH, REALLY? Where was I yesterday, Jan??? Oh, yeah, YOU DON'T KNOW!!!
I almost choked on the blood gushing from my tongue as I bit hard upon it.
Follow-up: Later this same day, I asked if a truck was coming in, because again, she hadn't checked her E-mail.
"I think so. 'Phil' told me one was coming in. Let's go check!"
Duh! Like I hadn't already thought of/ done that!
With an admitted smirk on my face, I followed her to the bay door. She opened it, and saw that the trucking company had pulled away the empty trailer without replacing it with a full one, the same detection I had made earlier. (Normally, the company brings a full trailer and "exchanges" it with the empty one.)
Bewildered, Jan cried, "Why did they do that? Do you know why they did that?"
Do I look like a member of the trucking company? Who knows? Well, maybe I do, since we all know you DON'T GET EASILY CONFUSED!!
"No, this can't be right," she stammered. "OK, well, I'll give you all the correct number later, because this isn't right. You know, I don't get easily confused."
OH, REALLY? Where was I yesterday, Jan??? Oh, yeah, YOU DON'T KNOW!!!
I almost choked on the blood gushing from my tongue as I bit hard upon it.
Follow-up: Later this same day, I asked if a truck was coming in, because again, she hadn't checked her E-mail.
"I think so. 'Phil' told me one was coming in. Let's go check!"
Duh! Like I hadn't already thought of/ done that!
With an admitted smirk on my face, I followed her to the bay door. She opened it, and saw that the trucking company had pulled away the empty trailer without replacing it with a full one, the same detection I had made earlier. (Normally, the company brings a full trailer and "exchanges" it with the empty one.)
Bewildered, Jan cried, "Why did they do that? Do you know why they did that?"
Do I look like a member of the trucking company? Who knows? Well, maybe I do, since we all know you DON'T GET EASILY CONFUSED!!
The new and improved English
Last night at Wal-mart, I observed a young couple completing their shopping, heading toward the check-out lane. The gal was pushing the cart, which was about 1/2 full, while the guy was walking alongside. As they noticed that just about every check-out line had about 7 or 8 people waiting in it, the guy suddenly goes to the front of the cart and yanks on it...
Gal: What are you doing?
Guy nods his head toward the short "20 items or less" lanes.
Gal: No, we can't do that. We're not expressible.
That may be, but I can say your vocabulary is most unique...
Gal: What are you doing?
Guy nods his head toward the short "20 items or less" lanes.
Gal: No, we can't do that. We're not expressible.
That may be, but I can say your vocabulary is most unique...
Friday, February 24, 2006
And the second STUPIE goes to....
..."At least I'm not 'full of sit!'"
"Wow! I feel cheesy!"
"You ARE cheesy!"
Just what every young woman wants to hear!
Thanks to the Burger King company for proving when you work in marketing, you can always get away with...
A) being a chauvinist
B) employing corny humor in everyday life
C) anonymity
D) getting paid by being one-dimentional
E) all of the above.
If you guessed "E," you're cheesy, er, I mean, right!
Thanks for your participation! Only 100 posts to go until the STUPIE raises its ugly head once again!
"Wow! I feel cheesy!"
"You ARE cheesy!"
Just what every young woman wants to hear!
Thanks to the Burger King company for proving when you work in marketing, you can always get away with...
A) being a chauvinist
B) employing corny humor in everyday life
C) anonymity
D) getting paid by being one-dimentional
E) all of the above.
If you guessed "E," you're cheesy, er, I mean, right!
Thanks for your participation! Only 100 posts to go until the STUPIE raises its ugly head once again!
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Anti-leadership
My shift supervisor isn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. This week, "Jan" displayed the most crystallizing examples of proving that point, in two separate instances.
First: Upon completion of our daily update Monday morning, Jan failed to mention whether or not we would be receiving a truck full of garments, so I went to ask her before going to my department to attend to the day's work. (After all, receiving is part of my job responsibility.)
"Are we expecting a truck today?" I inquired.
"I don't know," she blandly offered. "Truthfully, I didn't even check my E-mail to find out."
Isn't that your job?
A little more than an hour later, Jan came back to my department. She asked, "Did we get a truck?"
Stunned, I replied, "No, not to this point. So we are expecting one today?"
"Well, I'm not sure," she feebly stammered.
Oy ve!
And in a second episode, Wednesday, I was forced to call off due to a nasty stomach virus. I left a message at 4:00 AM with the building supervisor. (Granted, he may not have delivered said message to Jan, however...)
The phone rang at 10:00 PM, and my caller ID told me it was work, so I picked up. The second-shift super, "Wynona," who is a LOT more coherent and competent, called to tell me that OT had been cancelled for the following day. "Jan would have called you, but she didn't even realize you weren't here until the end of the day."
WHAT??? OK, there's only 40 employees per shift, and only 5 in my department. You're honestly telling me you are incapable of monitoring when someone is absent from my department, reducing the work-force by 20%?!?
Great job, Jan. I feel so inspired.
First: Upon completion of our daily update Monday morning, Jan failed to mention whether or not we would be receiving a truck full of garments, so I went to ask her before going to my department to attend to the day's work. (After all, receiving is part of my job responsibility.)
"Are we expecting a truck today?" I inquired.
"I don't know," she blandly offered. "Truthfully, I didn't even check my E-mail to find out."
Isn't that your job?
A little more than an hour later, Jan came back to my department. She asked, "Did we get a truck?"
Stunned, I replied, "No, not to this point. So we are expecting one today?"
"Well, I'm not sure," she feebly stammered.
Oy ve!
And in a second episode, Wednesday, I was forced to call off due to a nasty stomach virus. I left a message at 4:00 AM with the building supervisor. (Granted, he may not have delivered said message to Jan, however...)
The phone rang at 10:00 PM, and my caller ID told me it was work, so I picked up. The second-shift super, "Wynona," who is a LOT more coherent and competent, called to tell me that OT had been cancelled for the following day. "Jan would have called you, but she didn't even realize you weren't here until the end of the day."
WHAT??? OK, there's only 40 employees per shift, and only 5 in my department. You're honestly telling me you are incapable of monitoring when someone is absent from my department, reducing the work-force by 20%?!?
Great job, Jan. I feel so inspired.
News anchors away! (Please?)
Recently, I was watching a local news broadcast, and had to laugh when the substitute anchor read then lead-in...
"Police in Lackawanna County (PA) converge upon a wooded area in Throop (the town) to investigate a mysterious shooting. That story right next on WYOU. But first, officials fight a spectacular fire..."
Dude, just stick to the teleprompter. That's what it's there for!
Due to a major sickness to my personage, the STUPIE award has been postponed until tomorrow. Stay tuned!
"Police in Lackawanna County (PA) converge upon a wooded area in Throop (the town) to investigate a mysterious shooting. That story right next on WYOU. But first, officials fight a spectacular fire..."
Dude, just stick to the teleprompter. That's what it's there for!
Due to a major sickness to my personage, the STUPIE award has been postponed until tomorrow. Stay tuned!
Monday, February 20, 2006
Dr.Incredulous's Diagnosis: Acute Cranial Rectosis
I have previously mentioned that one thing which supposedly takes place at my place of employment is that once the order pickers empty out a box in location, they cut it flat and place it on a blue cart, where later it's taken to the cardboard baler. However, one of my co-workers, "Marissa," is a bit lazy about this and lays flat boxes on the floor all over the place. Today I caught her in the act. I asked her, "Could you please take the boxes to one of the blue carts? It's a safety hazard, plus it creates extra work for me, since I'm always the one picking them up!"
Her response floored me, and I could hardly believe my ears. "Yeah, I know."
So, what do things look like inside your backside?
Her response floored me, and I could hardly believe my ears. "Yeah, I know."
So, what do things look like inside your backside?
Sunday, February 19, 2006
And now, Dumb Inventions!
I'm sure most of you have seen the 60-second TV ad for Pasta Express, the latest psycho gadget for the kitchen. Here's something that's supposed to make prep of spaghetti so much easier! But wait, and "listen" between the lines. (This isn't word-for-word, but the gist is there...)
"Do you love homemade spaghetti but hate the hassle? Waiting for that big pot of water to boil, and then breaking all that spaghetti in half to make it fit... Now there's Pasta Express!... Just dump in the uncooked spaghetti, and then add boiling water... Pasta Express heats the water perfectly!"
So, in other words, you STILL have to wait around for water to boil first, and then once you add it, it's not hot enough, because Pasta Express heats the water? Thanks, I'll just keep my $19.95 plus S&H! After all, that's what I'm paying to not break my spaghetti in half, which makes it easier for the kids to eat anyway. How truly INconvenient!
"Do you love homemade spaghetti but hate the hassle? Waiting for that big pot of water to boil, and then breaking all that spaghetti in half to make it fit... Now there's Pasta Express!... Just dump in the uncooked spaghetti, and then add boiling water... Pasta Express heats the water perfectly!"
So, in other words, you STILL have to wait around for water to boil first, and then once you add it, it's not hot enough, because Pasta Express heats the water? Thanks, I'll just keep my $19.95 plus S&H! After all, that's what I'm paying to not break my spaghetti in half, which makes it easier for the kids to eat anyway. How truly INconvenient!
Friday, February 17, 2006
Silence is golden, ignorance is BS
Today, I was sitting at work with my other co-workers as we ate lunch. In the background, the TV was on with the local news report. The news anchor rehashed the blunders made by FEMA and the federal gov't at large during the Katrina disaster. "Brianna" pipes up and spouts, "You know, I'm so sick of hearing about those people. They sit there and complain about living in a motel room--"
I interrupted, "Most of those folks were forced to leave the hotels because FEMA stopped paying for their rooms."
Brianna continued her verbal assault. "Yeah, and I can't stand hearing them complain, 'I got no home, I got no home.' If it's that bad, then MOVE already!"
That was enough for me. I got quite agitated, due in part to the fact that I once was briefly homeless. (That experience will change anyone's perspective!) "How are they gonna move? That requires money, something they don't have! Where do you expect them to move to???"
The silence that followed was truly wonderful.
Little gets me truly upset, but lack of sympathy for the down-trodden raises my ire big time!
I interrupted, "Most of those folks were forced to leave the hotels because FEMA stopped paying for their rooms."
Brianna continued her verbal assault. "Yeah, and I can't stand hearing them complain, 'I got no home, I got no home.' If it's that bad, then MOVE already!"
That was enough for me. I got quite agitated, due in part to the fact that I once was briefly homeless. (That experience will change anyone's perspective!) "How are they gonna move? That requires money, something they don't have! Where do you expect them to move to???"
The silence that followed was truly wonderful.
Little gets me truly upset, but lack of sympathy for the down-trodden raises my ire big time!
Thursday, February 16, 2006
What have you got up your... Shirt?
Blog of reference for this story: "Somethin's Goin' Down!" 12/19/2005. Take the time to read this!
"Dee" strikes again!
The woman who had McDonald's wrappers and other trash shoved up her shirt proves that a leopard doesn't change their spots.
My buddy Pat was delivering soda in a local K-mart and "ran into" Dee in the store. Well, Dee didn't see Pat, actually. Dee, who I previously mentioned was a large, unkempt and unsavory individual, was walking at a rapid clip, which was totally unlike her. This aroused Pat's curiosity, so he set his delivery aside and followed Dee ata a distance. The other thing which was odd was that Dee was wearing a long trenchcoat...
Pat shadowed Dee to the clothing department, where she reached to pick up a garment, and, imagine that, all sorts of garbage fell out of her shirt! De ja vu!
Pat started to chuckle, and started to walk by as Dee stretched down to pick up her prized possessions, when THUD! About 10 magazines fell out! Dee's response:
"...Aaaaaaaand magazines!"
Shoplifting? Who knows? Slob? Perhaps... Bizarre? Beyond compare!
"Dee" strikes again!
The woman who had McDonald's wrappers and other trash shoved up her shirt proves that a leopard doesn't change their spots.
My buddy Pat was delivering soda in a local K-mart and "ran into" Dee in the store. Well, Dee didn't see Pat, actually. Dee, who I previously mentioned was a large, unkempt and unsavory individual, was walking at a rapid clip, which was totally unlike her. This aroused Pat's curiosity, so he set his delivery aside and followed Dee ata a distance. The other thing which was odd was that Dee was wearing a long trenchcoat...
Pat shadowed Dee to the clothing department, where she reached to pick up a garment, and, imagine that, all sorts of garbage fell out of her shirt! De ja vu!
Pat started to chuckle, and started to walk by as Dee stretched down to pick up her prized possessions, when THUD! About 10 magazines fell out! Dee's response:
"...Aaaaaaaand magazines!"
Shoplifting? Who knows? Slob? Perhaps... Bizarre? Beyond compare!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
At least I'm not "full of sit"
The person who created Burger King's "Dr. Angus" has got to be one seriously messed up humanoid!
In the latest episode, Dr. Angus lures a young, attractive woman to his (pristine, white) apartment and gives her a Angus burger with cheese... She takes a bite, and with a gleeful look of amazement, declares, "I FEEL CHEESY!"
The Doctor knowingly points back, YOU ARE CHEESY!!!"
No, YOU'RE cheesy.
In the latest episode, Dr. Angus lures a young, attractive woman to his (pristine, white) apartment and gives her a Angus burger with cheese... She takes a bite, and with a gleeful look of amazement, declares, "I FEEL CHEESY!"
The Doctor knowingly points back, YOU ARE CHEESY!!!"
No, YOU'RE cheesy.
AMERICAN IDiot (apologies to Green Day)
I enjoy American Idol. Having a background in music and perfect pitch, I like analyzing the contestant's realistic chances of becoming a finalist. Of course, first we must be subjugated to the torture of countless auditions, mostly BAD ones.
What always makes me shake my head is when someone who looks like a Hollywood hooker and sounds like an albatross (or sometimes they look AND sound like an albatross) presents themselves as the greatest thing since Whitney Houston, and end up sounding like Don Knotts, subsequently they're shot down by Simon and Friends... They look squarely into the eyes of the judges and state, "Fine. Whatever. I don't care. I don't need you guys to make it!"
Let the tirade begin!
"Those BLEEP guys can kiss my BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP they think they know what the BLEEP they're talkin' about BLEEP BLEEP you BLEEP trying to tell me BLEEP like that well you can BLEEP go to BLEEP BLEEP with BLEEP!"
Yeah, the apathy in your voice reeeeeeally convinces me you don't care!
What always makes me shake my head is when someone who looks like a Hollywood hooker and sounds like an albatross (or sometimes they look AND sound like an albatross) presents themselves as the greatest thing since Whitney Houston, and end up sounding like Don Knotts, subsequently they're shot down by Simon and Friends... They look squarely into the eyes of the judges and state, "Fine. Whatever. I don't care. I don't need you guys to make it!"
Let the tirade begin!
"Those BLEEP guys can kiss my BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP they think they know what the BLEEP they're talkin' about BLEEP BLEEP you BLEEP trying to tell me BLEEP like that well you can BLEEP go to BLEEP BLEEP with BLEEP!"
Yeah, the apathy in your voice reeeeeeally convinces me you don't care!
Sunday, February 12, 2006
THIS is the best you can do?
When dealing with this serious of an issue, you'd think a Public Service Announcement would be better than this...
The Tioga County (NY) AIDS Awareness Team put together the following drabble and tried to call it a radio PSA:
3 or 4 adolescents singing in a deeply bored, apathetic tone to the tune of Barney's "I Love You"-- not even in rhythm or key
I love you, you love me
Let's get rid of S-T-D
With a hug and a kiss and protec-tion too
It's all up to me and you
News flash: you guys will NOT be the next American Idol.
The Tioga County (NY) AIDS Awareness Team put together the following drabble and tried to call it a radio PSA:
3 or 4 adolescents singing in a deeply bored, apathetic tone to the tune of Barney's "I Love You"-- not even in rhythm or key
I love you, you love me
Let's get rid of S-T-D
With a hug and a kiss and protec-tion too
It's all up to me and you
News flash: you guys will NOT be the next American Idol.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Things to avoid pondering
Every now and then, my brother (who lives 1400 miles away) and I send wacky thoughts via E-mail to either relive childhood memories, or to just give each other a laugh. Today's oddity, courtesy of my 41-year old sibling:
"Why do people point to their wrist when asking for the time, but they don't point to their crotch when they ask where the bathroom is?"
Is there any wonder why I grew up to be such a strange individual?
"Why do people point to their wrist when asking for the time, but they don't point to their crotch when they ask where the bathroom is?"
Is there any wonder why I grew up to be such a strange individual?
Pointless with zero calories
People who come up with product slogans must be smoking some funky Jamaican cigs or something...
"Diet Dr. Pepper. There's nothing DIET about it."
If that's so, then why call it DIET Dr. Pepper? Better alert all the Atkins and South Beach disciples! Let them know that they'd better not consume this beverage because it'll mess them up big time!!!
"Diet Dr. Pepper. There's nothing DIET about it."
If that's so, then why call it DIET Dr. Pepper? Better alert all the Atkins and South Beach disciples! Let them know that they'd better not consume this beverage because it'll mess them up big time!!!
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Yes, there IS life outside the farm
A local weekly tabloid features a regular column called "Tell Us..." The paper asks 6 readers a question, and the responses are recorded for posterity's sake... Or, in the case of some, in spite of posterity.
Take for example, the following query: "What is your favorite form of exercise?" 1/2 of the answers were normal: Soccer, Exercise bike, Yoga... One replied, "Ultimate Living Room Fighting," which I personally think sounds bizarre, but I'll give the benefit of the doubt. Then there was Mike Sink and Dale Hemmingsen, whose decrees offered a bit too much regarding what nature of persons they were.
Mike's suggestion: "Chasing chickens!"
Dale's solution: "Cow tipping!"
Ooooooooooooo-K, then! I think I can guess what color your neck is!!!
ONLY 12 MORE POSTINGS UNTIL THE "STUPIE" IS AWARDED!
Keep voting for your favorite from December, January and February posts, and the leading vote-getter wins the next edition of this totally insignificant, pointless and made-up award!!!
You make the Stupies happen! Take hold of your ability to publicly decree your stance against stupidity!
Take for example, the following query: "What is your favorite form of exercise?" 1/2 of the answers were normal: Soccer, Exercise bike, Yoga... One replied, "Ultimate Living Room Fighting," which I personally think sounds bizarre, but I'll give the benefit of the doubt. Then there was Mike Sink and Dale Hemmingsen, whose decrees offered a bit too much regarding what nature of persons they were.
Mike's suggestion: "Chasing chickens!"
Dale's solution: "Cow tipping!"
Ooooooooooooo-K, then! I think I can guess what color your neck is!!!
ONLY 12 MORE POSTINGS UNTIL THE "STUPIE" IS AWARDED!
Keep voting for your favorite from December, January and February posts, and the leading vote-getter wins the next edition of this totally insignificant, pointless and made-up award!!!
You make the Stupies happen! Take hold of your ability to publicly decree your stance against stupidity!
TP in the "lap" of luxury
Thanks to "News of the weird" by United Press Syndicate for this one...
The Portuguese paper producer Renova introduced black toilet paper in France (Of course!) last fall and expect to introduce it in the U.S. soon. A Renova statement called the tissue "elegant, rebellious, alternative and eternally fashionable."
Elegant? Hey, man, I'm wiping myself, not walking down the runway at the Golden Globes.
Rebellious?! "Yeah, I'm using black TP. That'll show 'em!!!"
Alternative? So's the color of your behind when you develop a rash from the black dye!
ETERNALLY fashionable? C'mon. You think people are gonna visit your house and swoon, "Oh, I just love that black toilet paper!" No, they'll be driving home muttering, "What the heck is up with those crackheads?!?"
And finally, I don't mean to be gross or visually descriptive, but how the heck do you tell if you're clean?
The Portuguese paper producer Renova introduced black toilet paper in France (Of course!) last fall and expect to introduce it in the U.S. soon. A Renova statement called the tissue "elegant, rebellious, alternative and eternally fashionable."
Elegant? Hey, man, I'm wiping myself, not walking down the runway at the Golden Globes.
Rebellious?! "Yeah, I'm using black TP. That'll show 'em!!!"
Alternative? So's the color of your behind when you develop a rash from the black dye!
ETERNALLY fashionable? C'mon. You think people are gonna visit your house and swoon, "Oh, I just love that black toilet paper!" No, they'll be driving home muttering, "What the heck is up with those crackheads?!?"
And finally, I don't mean to be gross or visually descriptive, but how the heck do you tell if you're clean?
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Really?! You don't say!!!
An ad for a local sleep study clinic offers this glimpse into the world of abstract thought:
"Trouble sleeping? ...It might be a sleep disorder."
Hey, I'm really glad you cleared that up, because I was beginning to think it was the 45 cups of coffee I just drank!
"Trouble sleeping? ...It might be a sleep disorder."
Hey, I'm really glad you cleared that up, because I was beginning to think it was the 45 cups of coffee I just drank!
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Sat. #2: Well, Ex-CUUUUUUUSE ME!!!
I never cease to be amazed by these bizarre stories the AP find to report...
This past August, Harvey Bennett, 55, of Long Island NY, decided to do what a lot of boys and girls do around the world and wrote a note, put it in a small plastic bottle and let it loose in Long Island sound. Imagine his joy and surprise when he received a reply just a few days ago. (Unfortunately, the AP doesn't say how the reply was sent.) The excitement turned to shock when Mr. Bennett read the note.
"I recently found your bottle while taking a scenic walk on the beach by Poole Harbour. While you may consider this some profound experiment on the path and speed of ocean currents, I have another name for it--LITTER. You Americans don't seem to be happy unless you are mucking about somewhere. --Henry Bigglesworth, Bournemouth, Dorset County, England."
Amazing. This guy is so distraught over having his little stroll interrupted by the appearance of a single plastic bottle that he takes time to write a nasty reply and send it to Mr. Bennett? 'Ey, bloke, get y'self a bloody LIFE, with a side of manners.
This past August, Harvey Bennett, 55, of Long Island NY, decided to do what a lot of boys and girls do around the world and wrote a note, put it in a small plastic bottle and let it loose in Long Island sound. Imagine his joy and surprise when he received a reply just a few days ago. (Unfortunately, the AP doesn't say how the reply was sent.) The excitement turned to shock when Mr. Bennett read the note.
"I recently found your bottle while taking a scenic walk on the beach by Poole Harbour. While you may consider this some profound experiment on the path and speed of ocean currents, I have another name for it--LITTER. You Americans don't seem to be happy unless you are mucking about somewhere. --Henry Bigglesworth, Bournemouth, Dorset County, England."
Amazing. This guy is so distraught over having his little stroll interrupted by the appearance of a single plastic bottle that he takes time to write a nasty reply and send it to Mr. Bennett? 'Ey, bloke, get y'self a bloody LIFE, with a side of manners.
Sat. #1:Thought-free yogurt
Wal-mart. The cursed plot of lost and brainless souls!!!
While shopping and dealing with the endless throngs of people, we came upon a very LARGE man getting raisins. As my wife reached over to try to grab a pack of boxes, "Bubba" turns to his entourage and addresses another man. "Now I have to find where they keep the yogurt. I just love that yogurt!"
The other man replied, "I think it will be in the last aisle by the milk."
Bubba wasn't convinced. "No, I mean yogurt."
Man #2 was obviously more familiar with this store than Bubba was. "Yeah, it'd be in the refrigerated aisle by the milk and dairy!"
Bubba was now thoroughly clueless, and annoyed. "No, man! YO-GURT!!!"
Man #2 had had enough. "Never mind, let's just keep looking..."
Dude, if you love yogurt so much, why don't you know where it is?!?!
While shopping and dealing with the endless throngs of people, we came upon a very LARGE man getting raisins. As my wife reached over to try to grab a pack of boxes, "Bubba" turns to his entourage and addresses another man. "Now I have to find where they keep the yogurt. I just love that yogurt!"
The other man replied, "I think it will be in the last aisle by the milk."
Bubba wasn't convinced. "No, I mean yogurt."
Man #2 was obviously more familiar with this store than Bubba was. "Yeah, it'd be in the refrigerated aisle by the milk and dairy!"
Bubba was now thoroughly clueless, and annoyed. "No, man! YO-GURT!!!"
Man #2 had had enough. "Never mind, let's just keep looking..."
Dude, if you love yogurt so much, why don't you know where it is?!?!
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!
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...
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.
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.
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!!!
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."
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?
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!
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?!
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.
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!!!
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.
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!
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!!!"
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."
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!!!
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.
"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.
"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.
"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???
"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...
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.
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.
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