A rupture in the space-time continuum?

I'm due to get a recertification for my PA Department of Transportation medical card. All commercial drivers must hold a valid DOT med card. To meet this need, I need to go to an outpatient facility for a full physical exam. My boss set up an appointment for me for 9:45 this morning. Now, I was on the road, making deliveries, so the plan was to make some stops, go to the appointment, and then complete my route. I called the medical office at 8:30 to confirm my appointment. The receptionist was puzzled. "Ohh... We have you penciled in for 8:35. Can you make it?"
"No, I'm 30 miles away," I protested.
"Umm, I see. ...Well, can you be here in 15 minutes?" Miss No-help quizzed.
I couldn't believe my ears. "No! I'm thirty miles away from you. How am I supposed to make it in 15 minutes?"
Now her tone changed. She tattled, "Well, we're going to have to change your appointment to tomorrow then."
"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "How did my appointment get changed from 9:45 to 8:35?"
"OH, I DUNNO!" she drawled.

You bet you dunno! You also don't understand the laws of physics. I'd either have to "beam" over to the office, or drive at least 120 MPH to get there! What do you think I'm driving, the space shuttle???

Who's the boss, part 2

I made a delivery to the same store I mentioned in my May 31 posting. The day had been tremendously hectic, and I took note of the invoice for this store that receiving hours were 9-11 AM or 1-3:30 PM. Since it was 3:05, and I still had 2 stops to go, I went out of my way to come here. As I started unloading the truck, the owner (of foreign heritage), who has well-established that he enjoys being a jerk, met me and said, "Why you here so late? I cannot take delivery now. Too late."
I had had a very hard day, and was in no mood to put up with shenanigans. "Excuse me???" I demanded. "What do you mean, 'too late?' It's 3:10!"
"Yes," he smirked, "We stop receiving at 2:00."
I wanted to kick his Eastern teeth in. "Look, it says here on the invoice, '9-11 or 1-3:30.' This is what I go by. If you're going to change the hours, you'll need to call the business office. I cover a lot of territory, and I'm not gonna bend over backwards for any one particular store."
The Jerk asked, "Where is that time on the invoice?" I pointed right to it, and said, "Right here." Suddenly, selective blindness struck the owner. "Where? Where? I don't see!"

Do you not see my finger pointing to the little numbers? ...Apparently not!

Hey, buddy, someone's on the phone for you. It's the Cranial Rectosis Hall of Fame! You're in!!!

Many words in edgewise

There's only one thing more annoying than a person having a loud conversation on the cell phone in a public place, and that's someone else who makes themselves part of the call.
As we work through the day, Pat and I often "Direct Connect" each other and gab, to help pass the time. (BTW, for those not in the know, direct connect is the walkie-talkie feature that comes on a lot of phones.) Last week, Pat contacted me as I was walking into a mom-and-pop grocery store. "Whassup?" I replied.
"Where are you at right now?" Pat asked.
No sooner had I pushed in the "Talk" button when a middle-aged, dirty, poorly-dressed woman blurted out, "This is Pine Brook Market!"
I gave her a look that said, "Thanks, but I was the one he asked." I went back to my conversation, and said, "Like you probably heard, Pine Brook."
Pat beeped back, "How many more stops you have left?"
"Only a couple," I informed him. "I'm going to the pizzeria up the road next."
The grating voice bellowed, "Which one? Antonio's??"
In calm frustration, I excused myself from the store to get the rest of the shipment. As I loaded up my cart, chatting with Pat, and sharing a head-shaking at the Human Ear, she happened to exit the shop, and walked up to me.
"Are you going to Antonio's? If you want to know where it is, it's 1 block up, after the curve, on the right side!"
I told her I knew where Antonio's was, and Pat's voice came over the phone, with a bit of a chuckle, "Who is that?"
I knew what was about to happen, so I just pushed the button and let her answer. "Oh, it's just me. I'm nobody!"

Maybe so, but it appears you'd really like to meet my friend! Where on earth did this lady get the idea we were talking to her?

Lost: Ski mountain. Reward if found.

Oh, the the thinks you can think, if only you try!
The Scranton Times-Tribune, again proving that people do indeed say stupid things, sent their roving photographer out to ask the populace their oh-so-eloquent opinions regarding various issues... This week's nugget to chew on: "Should Lackawanna County (PA) sell the Montage ski resort (located in Scranton)?" Those who answered in the affimative were actually quite normal and got their point across succinctly. However, those who say "Nay:"
"I think it's a bad idea because it's not going to be a part of Scranton."--Arthur Robinson, Scranton.
"I don't think so. It has been in this area a while. People like to ski here. But if it's better for the area by selling it, we should. As long as it stays in the area..." --Robert Smith, Scranton.
"It's part of Scranton. If they take that away, Scranton doesn't have that much value as far as enjoyment." --Raheem Campbell, Scranton.

Where in the name of Everest do you think this place is going??? Oh, wait, I understand. These dudes must have read the verse in Scripture where Jesus says, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, "Be removed," and it shall be [sold and] cast into the sea..."
And your town will suck to live in to boot.

Biased opinion? Sure, what the heck!

This past week, Hazleton (PA) mayor Lou Barletta (R) drew national attention to his little city of 23,000 by signing into law his own version of an Immigration Reform Act. Under his new guidelines, in an attempt to "take back the city from the hordes of illegal immigrants who are dominating the city with crime and a declining economy," any illegal found can be arrested and handed over to federal INS officials; all governmental documents will be printed in English, and English shall be the official language of the metropolis; and any landlord renting to illegals, or any employer hiring illegals shall be subject to fines and/or imprisonment. (The Constitutionality of this new law is now up for debate within Pennsylvania Superior Court.)
Following up on the hub-bub, the Scranton Times-Tribune newspaper decided to devote their daily "Roving Photographer" poll question to the topic. The photographer interviews 6 individuals and asks for their feedback to a specific inquiry, Saturday's being, "Should English be declared the official language of PA?"
Answers one man: "No. It should be English and Spanish. Since I moved here, I think it would be easier for the Spanish to get a job or a G.E.D." --Saint Alvarez, Scranton (PA).

First, Alvarez, huh? Gee, I wonder what his heritage is.
Second, "Since you moved here?" Uh, could I see your green card, please?
Third, Yeah, like you're all that, singlehandedly making it possible for Hispanics to get jobs and an education!

Another individual, Tim Roxby of Scranton, responded to the question: "Yes. I think it should be a federal law. It's the country, not just one spot. If we went to certain areas down in Mexico, they wouldn't be speaking English. And places like in Iraq."
...Huh??? ...DIZZYING logic there, Roxby!

War = insanity (A serious post...)

WARNING: This post contains my personal opinion on the Israel-Hezbollah conflict, which is likely to upset the conservative Christian right-wing. Please do not read if you are likely to be offended.
As I observe the horrific events taking place in the Middle East today, I cannot help but shake my head at how incredibly stubborn we as humans can be. The lyrics of an old Queensryche song come to mind... "Brother killing brother for the profit of another/ Game point, and nobody wins..."
It must be understood that the latest flare-up of violence is only the most recent chapter of a story of hate that began when Abraham had two sons, Isaac and Ishmael. Ishmael was born to Sarah's hand-maid, Hagar; while Isaac was the child of promise, according to the Bible. Hagar and Ishmael were intensely jealous of Isaac, and as a result, Abraham sent them away, where Ishmael became the father of the Arabic peoples. The hatred has not only remained, but intensified, especially since Israel became an independent nation in 1948. Israel has maintained its right to exist, while the Arabs have held its position on their desire to destroy Israel and make it a Palestinian state.
POINT #1: I believe Israel does have a right to be sovereign, and to defend herself when attacked. (Defend, NOT offend.)
POINT #2: I do NOT trust Israeli PM Ehud Olmert as far as I could throw him. (I was once very close to someone who has personal access to Olmert.) I believe he is resting his faith on his country's military might, as can be proven by his statements (when he was mayor of Jerusalem) that he would never concede 1 square inch of his beloved city to the Palestinians. He made several forceful boasts during his tenure in that post, and felt secure doing so, having the backing of people such as previous PM Ariel Sharon.
POINT #3: Hezbollah, Hamas and several other Arabic militant groups have a long history of provoking Israel to forceful actions, and had no right to kidnap and hold the two Israeli soldiers who were serving in non-active roles at the times of their capture.
All this said to address the Knesset's contention that Israel is merely carrying out her right to defend herself. By striking against the whole of Gaza AND Lebanon???
I could understand if the Israeli army carried out covert maneuvers to make precision strikes against terroristic positions, but to hold a whole country in fear is unacceptable. Though I myself am insignificant, I officially denounce Israel's attacks and state that I do not support their actions or their agenda. Israel has no right to kill Lebanese citizens who have no more to do with Hezbollah than I do. Israel and Lebanon, joined by the Arabic council, must cease hostilities and make attempts to see to the release of the soldiers (should they still be alive) through diplomatic means. God forbid, should that prove fruitless, more intelligent means need to be used to provide Israel with national security, break down the power of the terrorists and stabilize an already reeling region of the world.

Israel's stated defense of her war-mongering is definitely worthy proof of the statement, "People Say Stupid Things."

The check's (not) in the mail

Today I made a soda delivery to the most rural outpost I have. (The nearest town of any size-- tiny-- is a good 5 miles away!) Needless to say, being this far removed from civilization, the store owner is a bit detached from reality. The gulf between his brain and the world is widening week-by-week.
After dropping off the goods, he paid me with a check, as per usual. What was unusual, however, was his next question. "Do you have a check for me?"
I thought this was just a poor attempt at a lame joke, until I studied his face. He was dead serious. "Nnnnnoooooo...," I answered guardedly.
Puzzled, the owner jabbed, "I'm owed $93. I was told you'd have a check for me."
"No, sorry, I don't," I affirmed.
Not willing to give up, Mr. Woodsy stated, "I was told the girls in the business office were going to hand you a check to give to me."
My patience was wearing thin, but I politely voiced, "Sorry, but I don't see the girls in the morning. They don't come into the office until 8:00, and I'm always gone by 6:30."
Randy of the Redwoods either wasn't listening, or was ignoring me altogether. "Well, why would they tell me that they would hand the check personally to you??"
Enough was enough. "I don't know who told you what," I spoke firmly, "but I don't see anyone from the business office in the morning. If you'd like to call the office--"
Interrupting me, he interrogated, "Are you sure you don't have a check?"
WHAT???

No, that's right, I did have it, but I spent it at Kmart earlier this morning, stockpiling on Aleve! Hmm... My head's hurting now. A LOT. I think I'll go pop a few dozen.

Excu$e me!!! Time i$ money!

Today's post is sponsored by the Pennsylvania Lottery, facilitating compulsive gambling to benefit older Pennsylvanians everyday!
I went to a local convenient store today to make a soda delivery. When I brought my load into the store, there was a gentleman perched like a vulture at the counter near the lotto register. The store was being manned by one lady, who was all by herself. As she went to assist the man, the phone rang. She said, "Excuse me one moment," and answered the phone. The man impatiently glared at her. I dropped off my drinks in the back room and went back to the counter to receive payment, making sure I stepped back so that customers could be assisted first. No sooner had the clerk hung up the phone, when a young dude ran in and said, "I need a pack of (smokes,)" tossing the money on the counter. The clerk shot an apologetic look at Mr. Lotto Fever, not wanting to leave money--understandably-- lying on the counter. Then, as she tried to tell me, "I'll be with you in just a minute," the guy flipped out and snapped, "Look, I'm in a really big hurry, so could you please get my numbers for me!"
Miss Store clerk said, "Sir, I'm sorry about the wait. I'm here by myself." Unfortunately, sympathy was not to be had. "Whatever," the man ranted. "Now, are you gonna help me, or am I going to take my business elsewhere??"
In an attempt to keep her calm, I told the clerk, "It's OK. Go ahead; I'm in no rush." After all, Pushy was, right? Then this guy goes on to buy ticket after ticket after ticket. 10 minutes later, the transaction was complete. This guy must have spent at least $50 in lottery tickets! No "Thank You," no "Please," no nothing, except the greedy man snapping up his tickets and waddling out the door. (He wasn't heavy-set; he just waddled when he walked.)
I never thought belligerence could be any worse. Ah, but couple it with unbridled greed, and you have a new 3-headed monster!

All I can say is, thank God this dude ran out of money! Any more, and he'd own the lottery!

WIC: Wack-jobs, Idiots and Clods

We had our quarterly visit to the WIC office this afternoon for recertification of continued eligibility for benefits for our youngest child, age 2. Many years of personal experience have proven that most WIC employees aren't the swiftest of intellect. For example...
As per custom, WIC needs verification of family income, so it's always important to bring pay stubs from my job. However, this time, the receptionist just blandly barked at my wife, "Documents?"
"Documents?" Mish-mash quizzed. "What the heck are you asking for?"
"Did you bring pay stubs?" the gal condescendingly blurted.
"Yes," MMM replied, and handed them to her.
A pregnant pause filled the room as the WICcer handled, but did not unfold, the stub. With wonder, tempered with confusion, she voiced, "So what is your income?"

Nature-- and I, too-- abhors a vacuum!

Consumerism for the clueless

I recently had a roasted chicken dinner at a take-out place. As per custom, the dinner was accessorized by the infamous plastic bag filled with cheap utensils, napkin, salt and pepper packets, and the world-reknowned moist towellette. For some ridiculous reason, I happened to take notice of the towellette, and something written on the back caught my eye: "Directions for use."
Are you jerking my chain? You actually felt the need for printing directions for using your moist towellette? This fact, in and of itself, is completely insane, but it gets better when you read the 3-step directions. I hadn't previously comprehended that you could actually break down usage of a wet piece of paper into smaller increments!
"1) Tear open outer packaging."
Ohhhhh, is that how it works?! I thought I wasn't any cleaner!
"2) Unfold towellette."
Yeah, I guess that'd be more effective than this tiny 1" square would be!
"3) Use, wiping on hands and face."
...Does "use" actually count as a direction step? And who in their right mind would smear that thing over their face? Have you smelled a moist towellette lately? "Hey, what's that perfume you're wearing? Smells like lemon!" "Uh, it's actually 'Moist towellette!'"

If you can't figure out how to use this product without reading the directions, you don't DESERVE to have clean hands and face!

It's time to play... PASS THE BLAME!

I was making a delivery to "XYZ Pharmacy" today. This chain of drug stores receives and controls its inventory by scanning product UPCs into a scan-gun computer, which interfaces with the store computer, which hooks up with the corporate machine. When an item is scanned in as being received into store inventory, the cost is calculated to prevent overcharging or conflicts with vendor invoices.
All that said to prove a point: Big Brother does NOT come without flaws.
My delivery today was simply for 3 cases of 2-liter bottles of soda. The cost per case is $9.60, making the total on my load $28.80. Upon scanning in my stuff, the manager said, "Whoa. There's a discrepancy of over $5."
"On 3 cases?" I doubted. "Something must not have entered in correctly. Why don't you verify the products and costs?"
...Which she did. I watched the data on the scanner screen to see if there was a system error. ...And there was...
Yep, 7Up, 1 case, cost $9.60. Canada Dry, 1 case, $9.60. Root Beer, 1 case, $9.60. Scan total: $23.04???
OK, so the computer doesn't add correctly. But what was completely maddening was the attitude I got from the manager.
"There's something wrong on your invoice," she jabbed.
"No, there's not," I retorted. I watched the screen as you verified the items. $9.60 3 times equals $28.80, and the gun read $23.04."
She wouldn't give up her new math. "No, there HAS to be something wrong. We're getting overcharged by you."
I'm all for being patient, but not when dealing with blunt stupidity, haggling over 3 cases when I still have 17 more stops to make. "Look," I forcefully exclaimed, "Do you want to figure this out on a piece of paper? $9.60 times 3 is $28.80, NOT $23.04. Your system is screwed up. The error is in your system, not on our charges."
Not deterred, and clearly unwilling to be obviously corrected by some poor slob of a delivery dude, the store manager quipped, "Never mind. I'm just going to have to contact the district manager to tell them how you're overcharging us. Just put the product in the back."

*Voice of Lundberg from "Office Space"* ...Yeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh...

I'm guessing that A) this gal's strong suit is not mathematics; B) this gal's strong suit is not business administration; C) this gal's strong suit is not people skills; D) this gal's strong suit is not taking responsibility for her mistakes; E) All of the above.

The British are coming! ...Is that good or bad?

Today's post comes from an article in the Saturday, July 1 edition of the Scranton (PA) Times-Tribune entitled "In History, Stupidity Still Reigns" by editor Ron Davis. These excerpts are typed verbatim as it appeared in the paper...
...Copy editor Ron Davis poses... questions to Alan Rogers, Ph.D., chairman of the history department at Boston College, where he teaches U.S. constitutional history and the American Revolution...
Q: What's the dumbest question you've ever been asked about American history? (Besides [this one,] of course.)
A: "What side were the Americans on in the Revolutionary War?"

...Well, now, isn't that revolutionary.

Live Brain Aid

My wife (mish-mash mousse) attended a Journey/Def Lepperd concert this past Friday. (...Primarily to see Journey, her favorite group; however, she stayed for both acts.) As Journey performed, my wife was very much enjoying the show, while most folks seated around her were obviously there to hear the 80's hair metal band from Britain. Right in the middle of Journey's "Faithfully," as 10,500 fans were on their feet, MMM felt a tap on her shoulder, startling her a bit. She turned around to see a woman mouthing words to her, with some dude who looks like "Milton" from the movie "Office Space" sitting next to her with a melancholy look. Due to the volume, my wife signaled to the woman that she hadn't heard what she said. The woman cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled, "DO YOU HAVE A PEN???"
Flabbergasted, my wife answered, "NO!" and signed that she was not in possession of a purse or anything else.
The woman was unfazed. Pointing to Milton, she yelled, "His best friend is the lead singer!"

Yeah, judging by his enthused stance, it looked like it. My guess is that she felt she could get an autograph from Jouney front-man Steve Augeri, but the timing of her request was odd...

Later, as Def Leppard took the stage, between songs, fans cheered and excitedly talked. One listener, referring to DL's lead guitarist, Phil Collen, blathered, "I wonder if Phil Collins is going to sing tonight? He's got such a great voice!" Obviously, a case of mistaken identity, imagining Phil (note: spelling of name not even the same!) Collins from "Genesis."

Well, nobody said it was going to be a concert to benefit the local mensa club!!!

Welcome to the third pseudo-annual STUPIES awards!!!

(Music starts: the theme to the "Bugs Bunny Show" plays in the background behind thunderous applause...) ...And oh, what heights we'll hit / On with the show, this is it!!!
The STUPIES are back and they're better than ever! We're so glad to have you with us as we... er, celebrate... Certain people who have utilized their ridiculous... talent... of making us all thankful and appreciative that we are not as dumb as you!

The Ignernt Foo' STUPIE is awarded to the individual who displays the most appalling and irritating form of stupidity. This year, our winner has exemplified the greatest amount of "cranial rectosis" of anyone these past few months... With the following weblinks to prove his/her merit, you can definitely agree that this individual is most worthy to hold this wooden pedestal capped with fake doggie vomit high. The Ignernt Foo' STUPIE goes to.... "Anonymous!"
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/04/2nd-today-bizarre-bunny-makes-easter.html
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/04/confucius-say-duh.html
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/06/wow-justice-really-is-blind.html
The comments following each of these stories posted on "PSST" truly capture the pure ignorance of this rabble-rouser, making him an easy target-- I mean, choice as the recipient of this award...

The Cloud of Idiot Gas STUPIE is named to honor "Sierra," creator of the former blog with the same name. We very much miss his contributions to the Blogger community, and hope that someday in the future, he will find the time to make a much-desired return to the web-waves. This award "honors" the public figure who issues the most insane and incompetent statement or question in the presence of thousands of people. (Our first STUPIE winner, WNEP-16 weatherman Tom Clark, would fit into this category.) The Cloud of Idiot Gas STUPIE goes to... WNEP counterpart, reporter Bob Reynolds!
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/03/numbskull-newsmen-at-work.html
With his poor attempt to ask a rhetorical query, Bob shows how NOT to do investigative reporting!...

Lastly, the Incredulous Choice STUPIE is granted to the person who draws the most ire from me, Mr. Incredulous, for any type of expression of stupidity. The Incredulous Choice STUPIE is given to... Mr. I's former supervisor, Jan!
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/02/supplemental-to-anti-leadership.html
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/02/not-easily-confused-eh.html
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/03/non-listening-skills.html
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/03/2nd-today-follow-up-to-non-listening.html
http://twasthen1.blogspot.com/2006/03/fresh-brewed-stupidity-first-thing-in.html
Jan consistently showed poor leadership abilities and lack of proper analysis, driving me insane while I worked my butt off at the local uniform distibution center. Nothing takes the joy out of a job more than a terrible leader, as I can personally attest. For that reason, Jan was the obvious "man for the job" of receiving this STUPIE.

That concludes our show! Thanks for joining us for... the STUPIES! Come back and join us again in another 100 posts!!! I'm Mr. Incredulous, saying, "Tee-tee, ta-ta, and toodles!"

On second thought, please don't

My wife attended a Journey concert on Friday, and before the music began, she checked out the concession table. Surprisingly, Journey wasn't selling much merchandise. They did have a wide assortment of T-shirts, each of which was coded by a letter. For instance, if you wanted this shirt, it was identified by "I," or that one was "Q," or the white one over there was "F," and so on.
The only other product they carried was a pair of white lace boxer-style panties with the word "Journey" across the seat. The sign on the tent read, "Panties, $15. Ask for 'P.'"

Boy, somebody went through a lot of trouble to think that one up!

And lastly today, am I in the Twilight Zone???

Since starting my new job as a soda/beverage delivery driver about 2 1/2 months ago, I have certain businesses that have become regular, weekly stops. One of them is a small pizza shop called "Granato's."* One of the other drivers, "Kenny," relinquished that stop about 4 months ago. "Randy" had been delivering Granato's orders for the previous 45 days or so before I took it on. Every time I bring the product in, I say "Hi, how are you doing today?" ...Or something of that nature, so the owner and family have seen me countless times. Last week, out of nowhere, the owner's wife, who works in the kitchen, asked, "Where's Kenny?" I had informed her that Kenny wasn't stopping here anymore, that he had other stops nearby, but it was now part of my route, to which she responded, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh..."
So this week, I once again go to Granato's and was greeted by the owner. Somehow, I knew what was coming... "Hey, where's Kenny? Is he on vacation this week?"

This week??? OK, I think you're the ones on vacation. A permanent mental vacation.

*Name of eatery changed to save them from much-deserved ridicule, and to hide the fact of the existence of this place. If the Board of Health knew they served food, they'd probably shut it down! ...Let's just say that storing beverages in a dark, dusty basement right near an anti-freeze leak probably isn't a good idea!!!

It's just about time for the new and improved (sorry, Pat) STUPIES!!! Keep a close watch on PSST and see the gradiose of gullible... The climax of chaotic... The incomprehension of Incredulous!!! Stay tuned!

Second today: "Heartless" follow-up

I am VERY happy to report that in spite of the severe flooding that took place in Northeastern PA this past week, my boss, "Rob," managed to find another relative to get his father-in-law out of the flood plain and take him to safety. Rob had called a niece, who, though it was quite a distance for her, was kind enough to get dad out of danger. Rob had arranged for a meeting place so that dad could join the rest of the family at a local shelter.
Lo and behold, when Rob arrived at the rendezvous point, stingy bro ("I don't have the gas money") also was there. With much purpose and glee, Rob put dad in the car, then turned to the niece to thank her, and said (with brother's eyes on him) "Thanks. Here's $40 for your troubles." The brother's response? "Oh, MAN! If I had known you were going to give money, I would've gotten him!!!"
Rob said, "That was the best $40 I've ever spent."

Ah, the twisted pleasure of silent scorn...

You-u-u-u.... light up my _______!

...Comfort is so overrated, don't you think? Well, then again, I never had a light bulb stuck up my backside!
Man, I know I really shouldn't laugh, but how in the name of Thomas Edison does this happen to a person? I find it strangely ironic that a man imprisoned for making liquor (illegally) ends up in a state where one would HAVE to be seriously torqued, or else just grossly compliant.
"I don't know who did this to me. Police or other prisoners." Like that's truly important now! Even if your story is true, (The doctor treating Mohammad said he'd never encountered anything like it before, and doubted the felon's story that someone had drugged him and inserted the bulb while he was comatose) does it matter? How on earth do you prevent it from happening again? Here's a suggestion: LOTS of Ex-lax on a daily basis!

What will they insert, er, I mean, think of next???

Heartless beyond belief

I feel for my boss, "Rob." In the midst of the worst flooding northeastern PA has seen in 34 years, Rob has to evacuate his family for the next 2 days. However, amidst all the chaos, he remembered his father-in-law, who's confined to a wheelchair and trapped in his home not far from the raging Susquehanna River. Rob called his brother, who lives about 1 mile from dad-in-law, asking him to pick up dad and take him to his house until Rob got done with work and could take the whole family to safer ground. You know what brother replied?
"Sorry. I don't have the gas money."

...To drive 1 mile??? Why don't you just go ahead and say, "Dad's a burden I can't bear?"

Sadly, at the time of this writing, "Dad's" house is completely inaccessible-- all surrounding roadways are flooded. I pray the Guard can get him out. How can anyone be so cruel?

Sorry, my brain's a bit "coudy"

After a long absence, WNEP-16's chief meteorologist, Tom Clark, has made a dubious return to PSST!
Our area has been trapped in a rain vortex for over a week, and now major flooding throughout the area has begun, shutting down key roadways and communities. Almost 6" of rain has fallen in the past 4 days, and the ground cannot soak in any more water. ...So tell me why Clarkie makes this statement on the news tonight!
"Believe it or not, we're still below the water table in most of the viewing area, after the dry March we had..."

...Ri-i-i-i-i-ight... Tell that to the families who had to evacuate their homes and watch entire towns get submerged!

Dear Abby, from Stupid in Sacramento

Columns like "Dear Abby" have always driven me crazy, and a letter printed in today's newspaper illustrates why. Here's excerpts from "Lindy" in Sacramento:
Dear Abby: "Danny" and I have been together six months. During the first six weeks I was studying in Europe, and when I got back we jumped straight into an intense, time-consuming relationship. Then he asked if he could move in with me. It was all too sudden for me, and I said I wasn't ready. Danny reacted by breaking up with me. Since then, our relationship has been rocky.
Wait a momentary moment! Didn't you just say he broke up with you??? DUH!
...Danny says that he loves me... I need to regain my balance before I can be in a relationship with him again.
Exsqueeze me, but didn't you begin this letter by saying you two have been together for six months?
I want to take a couple of steps back this summer, and... build a foundation. I know Danny is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, but I'm not ready for that kind of commitment now.
Um, could you BE any more contradicting?!
...Should I give up and walk away, or continue to try to rebuild our relationship?
Dear Lindy: Danny may say that he loves you, but if it is more than lip service, he should be willing to give you the space you need... What you're proposing is reasonable...
HUH??? Say WHAT now???
...and if he can't respect your feelings, you should, indeed, walk away.
What in blue blazes? Is it just me, or am I the only one who sees the OBVIOUS problem here? Lindy wants a boyfriend without the "work." She's continually sending mixed signals to this smothering dude, and then Abby just feeds her fire by pointing out how demanding Danny is???
Can you say, Co-dependent???

Here's my advice for the advice lady: stop screwing up people's lives with blind insight!

Cookie Contradict Confucius

My wife and I enjoyed a Chinese dinner this evening, and of course, as always, we exchanged chuckles over our "fortunes." Mine read, "Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned."
Webster's defines fate as "...An inevitable... outcome, condition or end; final outcome."
Now, if fate is inevitable and pre-determined, how could I deviate from said path?

Obviously, this was not a saying of Confucius. I think maybe it was a quote from his younger brother, Chaosis.

Cranial Rectosis in Calgary

While I'm sure I could post a story from my travels today that would befit this blog, nothing would top what Kris experienced in a DQ parking lot up North...
http://plasticobsession.blogspot.com/2006/06/reasons-14567-and-14568.html
Did you take notice of the focal mental-lapse in this story?
...The older woman again said I hadn't and "GRANTED, I SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOLDING ONTO HIM". Ok, that is the understatement of the century, lady! I proceeded to tell them that they had been blocking my way out of the parking lot and I had waited and shoulder checked but did they REALIZE that the boy was impossible to see because of his height?! Blind spots don't discriminate. They said they had not thought of that.

Aye carumba, eh?

Man, you have GOT to get a LIFE.

My wife and I turned on the Weather Channel last night to find out if I'd be dealing with rain on my delivery route today. Only one problem: there was no weather. The whole team was talking about a solstice party in Cape Cod. The time for a commercial break came...
"Coming up next on the Weather Channel-- continued live team coverage of the first day of summer!!!"

Thanks. I needed a cure for my insomnia!

Over the edge we go! (part 2)

Yesterday, I was making a soda delivery in the sleepy little "city" of Nanticoke, PA. The store was located on a side street, and since there was no parking available there, I stopped my truck caddy-corner to it just off a four-way intersection, with stop signs in all directions. As I unloaded the cases off my truck, I looked up to see 3 teens crossing the street in the crosswalk. Suddenly, a car came screeching up to them. The woman, who I will call "Crosswalk Carrie," opened her car door and got out, yelling many colorful metaphors at the large youths. "Why don't you fucking watch where you're fucking going, asshole shit!!!"
(Interjection: in PA, it's a state law that cars must yield to pedestrians in a crosswalk.)
The apparent leader of the pack just looked over his shoulder and informantly spouted, "We have the right-of-way, fucking lady," while continuing to stride up the sidewalk.
Carrie raged, "Asshole bastards!!! Shut up, you piece of shit!! I don't give a fucking dick what you think!"
The short-statured, 50-something year old female actually took a few menacing steps after them, and now the trio stopped. The top dog coldly vented, "Get back in your car, asshole!!!"
...Which she did, still unleashing a myriad of sailor-speak, slammed her car door, laid on the horn about 5 seconds, and quickly sped off, (in a 25MPH zone) continuing her butchering of the Queen's English the entire time. Oh, and did I mention that while she was carrying on this tirade, traffic was now backed up a half-block behind her vacated vehicle in the middle of the road?

...Maybe it was the heat, who knows, but I still fail to see what causes people to experience this level of road rage... I mean, you failed to yield to those in the right, and then risk your life by chasing after 3 dudes who are each twice your size???

NOT BRIGHT.

Hey, beloved readers, it's almost that time again! Forthcoming shortly, the third, and newly expanded edition of... THE STUPIES! Stay tuned as we hand out three, count 'em, THREE Stupie awards, unofficially sponsored by Chia head and Prozac!

Over the edge we go! (part 1)

While nothing was "said," I got a HUUUUUUUUUUGE laugh out of this story...
What in the name of Mehatma Ghandi??? Obviously, Mr. Kumar has not read his teachings...

I'm not sure which looney story is better, this or "Crosswalk Carrie"?

Another senseless everyday phrase

We all use it... (Yes, me too, and I don't know why!!!)

"Watch your head!"

I can't!!! I'm inside it!!!

Wow, justice really IS blind

This story really makes me shake my head and say, "What is WRONG with people today???" Admittedly, as a home-school parent, my viewpoint is a bit biased, but how can anyone reconcile the statements in the key paragraph of this article?
Home School Legal Defense Association Attorney Chris Klicka contacted the court and explained the error, but the judge simply stated, "He doesn't know the law in Michigan." This is in spite of the fact that Klicka provided the judge with extensive information concerning the history and laws in Michigan and the battle for the right to homeschool that he had been involved in for over eight years, and that he worked on the case that went before the Supreme Court of Michigan. *bold type added for emphasis.
How on EARTH did this dude get himself elected??? You don't know the laws of Michigan??? Heck, how did you even pass the bar? You admit (by default) that you haven't read key affidavits pertaining to the case, that you care absolutely nothing about the pain and suffering that you are causing this family, and that you don't spend important time reading key legal documents which you are required to have full understanding of before you put on your holy robe and powdered wig to sit behind the bench?
Amazing. Career criminals are getting slaps on the hand left and right in this country, (pathetical short stints of "probation") roaming free to commit acts of atrocity against society, but you're gonna string along a family over a misunderstanding and $3500?!?

Stuff like this just absolutely sickens me...

Unfortunate phone number

A local dentist, in an attempt to garner more business, obtained a toll-free number, thinking what's "cute" and memorable would encourage potential and existing patients to call. However, his choice in personified numbers is questionable at best:
1 (800) 866-8422.
1 (800) TOOTHACHE.

Sorry, but I have no desire to have my teeth cleaned by someone who identifies himself with a toothache! Is this some sort of prophecy???

Another version of "No duh!"

In my travels today, I passed by an old gas station that has long been vacant and boarded up. Apparently, the owner closed up in a hurry, because he/she just enclosed the gas pumps in a cube of plywood. What was funny, however, was the spray-painted sign right next to each pump:
"NO GAS."

Gee, I'm really glad we have that cleared up because I was all ready to fill 'er up, and I didn't feel like driving 2/10 of a mile down the road to the next available station!!!

I thought nurses were supposed to make you feel BETTER!

My wife took my son to the ENT specialist today. While they were awaiting their turn, a member of the nursing staff come out into the waiting room to call the next patient... "Mr. Jones?"
Jonesey got up and followed the nurse. She asked, "How are you today, Mr. Jones?"
"Pretty good," he politely answered.
Indignantly, the nurse exclaimed, "Well, that can't be true You're HERE!!!"
Not missing a beat, Mr. Jones blandly joked, "OK, yesterday, then!"

Hats off to Mr. Jones for showing the nursing staff that humans ARE capable of having feelings and a sense of humor!

P marks the spot

Here's another lovely contribution from Roland Sweet's "News Quirks..."
Bioengineer Richard Deutsch invented a talking urinal to warn men not to drive drunk. According to the Washington Times, the Wizmark interactive urinal communicator is a motion-sensitive, battery-operated device about the size of a pine-scented sanitizer. Its miniature screen delivers a 15-second announcement to anyone using it, recommending, "Maybe it's time to call a cab or call a sober friend for a ride home." Encouraged by the response to the Wizmark, Deutsch said he has also developed a "sit-down" version for women's restrooms.

The Wizmark interactive urinal communicator??? Sounds like something used in "Star Trek" when the crew has had too much Romulan ale...
Are you cereal??? Some drunk comes staggering into the bathroom, and you expect this guy to take notice, let alone read, a message that he is urinating on??? "What's this? May... may-beee..... errrrrrrrr... Maybe it's... ti-i-i-i-i-i-i-ime.... Frhbvvvlllll... Oh, what the bloody hell?"

I'm really, really, REALLY hoping the sit-down version won't be placed IN the toilet tank... 'Nuff said!

Getting more bang for your jerk

Today's PSST post is brought to you courtesy of Roland Sweet's "News Quirks." All items collected by Mr. Sweet come from various press clippings from around the globe and are verified as authentic before he puts them to print...
Accused of lobbing a home-made bomb at his girlfriend in Rougemont, NC, Otis Cecil Wilkins, 45, insisted he was actually aiming at a beaver dam but pleaded guilty anyway. Witnesses said the bomb exploded "in a large fireball" but then rolled back toward Wilkins, igniting his shorts. He spent more than a week at a hospital burn center. "I ain't no terrorist," Wilkins told sheriff's investigators. "It was just a little bit of black powder. It was just a little boom thing."

A little boom? Seems to me your lower extremities experienced "The big bang!"

No habla Ingles? ...No artery clogger for you!

There are two extremes that this "Immigration pendulum" swings toward. One is the "Day Without Immigrants" protests. The other is located in Philadelphia at Geno's Steaks.

http://www.phillyburbs.com/pb-dyn/news/103-06092006-667618.html

I agree with Vento to quite an extent, but why would you risk losing business and enduring a political inferno just to make a point? A pretty stupid thing to do, as is Juntos's entertaining legal action. ...Actually, I qualify Juntos's considered course to be more vindictive than stupid.
Being a moderate, I think it's time for both sides of the issue to stop playing stubborn games and be more tolerant-- Vento needs to be willing to accommodate someone who doesn't speak English, and the Latino community needs to be more willing to assimilate into American culture instead of attempting to subdue it.

JMHO!!!

The "gift" that keeps on giving

A local doctor in my area, Dr. Moro (Interruption: please keep in mind that his name is missing a letter!) recently demonstrated why people skills are NOT his forte! Dr. Moro has a long-standing tradition of blowing off his patient's complaints/symptoms and telling them they're fine. He also has an established tradition of offering and performing rectal exams. You've got eczema? Rectal. A touch of the flu? Rectal. A festering cold sore? Yep, you guessed it, rectal. ...GROSS!!!!! Ah, but it turns out there's a reason (beyond a fetish) he does that...
A friend of the family went to Dr. Moro to have him check on a persistent pain in her elbow. True to form, Moro gave A... complete physical. Why our friend didn't claim her patient's right and say, "No thank you," I'm not sure, but anyway... The examination complete, our friend went to the receptionist to write a check for her co-pay. Moro's exam fee is $35. Imagine this gal's surprise when she was told the cost was $75.
"Why did his rate go up so much?" she inquired.
"Ma'am, you received a FULL physical examination. The fee is $75," she was told. After much protest, Moro himself (still missing a letter) came out and rudely addressed our friend. She was so dismayed that she refused to pay, and stormed out of the office.
A couple of days later, she contacted her lawyer, and obtained a letter addressed to Moro, along with a check for $35. Moro sent the check back with a note, "Still awaiting correct payment." Friend sent the check back to Moro, with a note, "Your exam fee is $35; please note enclosed check in that amount." Again, Moro returned the check.
Now, wouldn't it make logical sense, if you're a doctor and awaiting payment due for services, wouldn't you accept the check and just send a bill for $40???

Dr. Moro, I see an "N" in your future...

Brainless businessman

Here's a lovely story about the owner of a "Hot dawg hut" (as he calls it) getting in over his head when he was robbed Sunday evening.
You're kidding, right, Bob? You have a couple hundred ripped out of your cash register, and instead of chalking it up as a temporary loss until police could deal with the matter, you allow a huge amount a damage to be done to your luxury SUV, PLUS now you've got medical costs, too?

"It's not the brightest thing to do," Bolus said the day after the incident.

Ah, so it took you a whole day to figure that one out, Bobby? It's financial mishaps like this which probably explain why you're not mayor of Scranton!
(Background note: In 2002, Mr. Bolus ran for mayor, even though every legal expert around told him that even if he won, he couldn't serve as mayor due to a past criminal record, yet he poured in thousands of dollars into a campaign anyway. ...And lost in a landslide.)

...Where you can go

I have heard the stories of a particular little hamlet about an hour northwest of Detroit, MI, but I never knew you could find out so much info about it! Take the time to peruse over this cute little site, serving as a tourism tease! It's worth it!

www.hell2u.com

...Not that anything on this site is "stupid," per se; it's just really odd!

And to think I have to work this Tuesday. I'm gonna miss a party in Hell!

Knowledge doesn't equal communication

Our local library offers many different activities for the area children which serves as educational, as well as fun, supplements to their education. Each event requires the parent(s) to register the kids, so this past weekend, my wife called the library...
MRS. I: Hi, I'd like to register my children for the reptiles workshop on June 18th.
LIBR#1: OK, hold on one moment, and I'll connect you with someone who can help you with that. (What? Why can't you?)
...Ten minutes later, Mrs. I is still on hold and surmises they forgot to pass along the request, so she hangs up and calls back.
MRS. I: Hi, I'd like to register my children, etc, etc...
LIBR#2: Absolutely, let me get your information...
Five minutes later, the kids are registered.
Two hours later, the phone rings.
*Beep!* LIBR#1: Mrs. I, I apologize. I put you on hold, and I honestly forgot you were on the line. If you'd like to register your children for an event, please call me back and I'll assist you with that. (Then why couldn't you in the first place?)
Shortly after the call, we decided to go to the library, being it was a rainy day and the kids were climbing the walls. Upon entry into the facility, my wife is approached by LIBR#1: Mrs. I, I am SO sorry I left you on hold...
MRS. I: That's OK. I figured you just got busy, so I hung up and called back and got the kids registered.
LIBR#1: Well, nobody told me THAT!

Ah, yes, the public library system. A well-oiled machine. NOT!

General Tsao's with a side of blindness

My buddy Pat and I met for lunch last week as we both completed our delivery routes at about the same time. It was at a Chinese restaurant that I deliver to every week. (Ironically, Pat had this route before I did, so both of us were regular "visitors to this eatery.) We sat down, in our uniforms with the RC cola/Canada Dry logo emblazoned across our shirts. The waiter came to our table and asked us what we would like to drink. Pat asked for a soda while I specifically asked for an RC. The waiter replied, "Sorry, we don't have Coke or Pepsi. Only RC."

He-llooo??? Have you noticed our shirts? Better yet, do we seem a bit familiar to you???

Hmm. I guess the dragon-lantern lights make patrons look different than vendors.

Billboard bungle

In my travels today, I noticed an odd advert on a billboard. Now, I know it was for a local law firm, but to somebody just passing through might think, "HUH???"
Dog and animal bites. LaBarbera and Kelleher.*

I can see it now. A man enters an office and says, "Yes, I'd like a dog bite, please."
* Name of law firm changed so I don't get my butt sued off!

Responsible for irresponsibility

Last night, after an extremely hot and humid day, scattered thunderstorms rumbled through our area. We live in a group of apartment buildings with 4 units in each structure. After settling our kids into bed for the evening, reassuring them that even though "the sky was crashing," everything was OK, my wife and I reclined in the living room to check radar on the Weather Channel. A strong cell was heading right for us. Suddenly, we heard children galavanting about and fireworks going off. We got up and opened the door to discover 4 young kids running and dancing around a cannister of flammables. ...Right under power lines, and the sky was lit up with bright pink lightning bolts. "Kids," I called, "Get inside! A very bad storm is coming in about 5 minutes!"
One of the neighborhood "mothers" (who, by the way, never socializes with anyone, nor does she let her son interact with the other area kids) shot at us, "Never mind. They're OK! We'll be responsible!"

1) Who's we?
2) You're too good to be neighborly, but you'll watch the kids??
3) Fine. You drown in your lack of common sense and let kids play with fireworks and hang around near power lines in an electrical storm!!! That's great parenting skills!

Who's The Boss?

Today I made a delivery to a local convenient store which is owned by 2 men of foreign heritage. (I am declining to mention race/creed so as to not offend or agitate anyone!) Anyhow, the point is that the one owner seemed to have an answer for everything, even things he had no clue about.
I had 12 cases of beverages going in, and my hand truck won't carry that many in one trip, so I stacked up half the cases and wheeled them in. The co-owner told me to pick up one case from a previous weeks' order that he didn't want. I replied, "OK, I'll go get the other 6 cases and then take that out."
"NO! TAKE IT OUT NOW! TAKE IT!" he emphatically shouted.
Not wanting to raise the man's ire further, I said, "Fine. I'll just call in to the office to get the price so we can properly credit your bill."
"It's $16.95," he snapped. "You can take it off right now!"
(What was this guy's rush?)
"I'm sure that's the price, but I have to confirm this with the office. It's company policy," I stressed.
"OK," he dismissed, "You call, but I'm telling you that's the price."
Ignoring him, I contacted HQ, where I learned the cost was actually $20.95. No sooner had I hung up, when Mr. Know-It-All came back and jeered, "Did you call them?"
"Yes," I gently but slowly retorted. "The price is actually $4 more than we (translation:YOU) thought."
"Yes, very good," he smugly sniffed. "I told you it was right of you to call."

Ah, yes, nothing's better than sounding important while looking like a complete moron!

Sign language for dummies

I had to work Saturday, being my place of employment wasn't open on Memorial Day Monday. I'm not sure if it was heat, humidity or the fact that everybody decided to leave their brains in the workplace, but folks were both ignorant and arrogant, especially in the area of driving.
Everywhere I have been, there are big white lines in each lane of traffic right before you reach an intersection with a traffic light. They're there for a reason-- to keep you safe from a vehicle crash. Also, for those who are unaware, a red signal means "STOP!" I reached an intersection, preparing to make a left turn, when the car heading in the opposite direction stopped at the red light, and then screeched ahead, barely missing a crash from the vehicle with the right-of-way coming across. The stop-and-go idiot grants the other party the international sign for "I don't particularly care for you, your actions, or your having the green light. WHY?!?!
Immediately after the near-miss, the light turned green, and I began my left turn... Until little Miss Priss in her souped-up 1990-something pink Cavalier comes flying up to the red light, past the white line, and nearly into the middle of the intersection. I had already turned about 30 degrees, and now was stopped in no-man's-land, risking a collision with either the Princess's car or the foot-high curb. I gently waved to signal I needed her to back up, since nobody was behind her. Instead, she screams at me and shows me her tallest extremely on her left hand. Nice.
So now, I'm trapped in the middle of the intersection, NOBODY can proceed, and everyone's honking their horns. Pinky never did retreat, so I had to torque my tie-rods out of proportion, rolling over the curb, while she gestures continually the whole time I attempted to safely complete my turn.

So, in the future, dear drivers in Northeastern PA, you'll soon be seeing my sign for "My truck is 5 times the size of your car, and if you don't move immediately, I'll squash you like a little bug," surmised by the side of my vehicle edging closer and closer to your puny little "sports car."

A-crap-olypse

I'm gonna get a lot of flack on this post from my wife, but.... As I type this, NBC's special, "10.5: Apocalypse" is airing. Now, generally speaking, I loathe most end-of-the-world/doom-and-gloom movies, mainly because they are so INCREDIBLY unrealistic, it's like reading the "Weekly World News" for the latest on Bat-boy. This latest creation of earth's de-evolution can be summed up by the following exchange...
"Where's the epicenter?"
(After a momentary pause) "Sun Valley, Idaho."
"That's an extinct volcano!"
"Not anymore!"
(Watching the dramatic eruption which spews gas, rock and lava thousands of feet into the air) "It's not supposed to happen like this. Not this fast!"

DARNED STINKIN' WELL RIGHT, BUDDY! That's why I can't stand flicks like this!!!

Say what you mean, mean what you say

As I traveled along my delivery route Friday, I took note of a privately owned gas station/garage that evidently isn't owned by the swiftest of folks. All signs are either hand-drawn or composed of letters made up from black electrical tape. The main sign "says it all:"
ALEX'S SERVICE: We do stuff!
I guess that's good to know, depending on what kind of "stuff" you're talking about. Does stuff mean auto repairs or marijuana??? As if this sign wasn't bad enough, plastered on their gas pump was this wonderful "promise:"
Drive-offs will be shot at.
That's really great. In this day and age where folks are getting increasingly angry about the price of fuel and brazen in thefts, make an idle threat and actually encourage people to steal from you!

Or... Are you really that hardened that you disregard the law as well as everyone safety as you attempt to blow away a car speeding off?

Crying over spilt Snapple

Yesterday, I made a beverage delivery to a small local convenient store. In this particular place of business, not only am I responsible for said delivery, but also for pricing and placing the product up on the shelves. As I did this, I accidentally knocked a bottle of Snapple off the shelf, and it shattered. Being conscientious of the customers' safety, I immediately grabbed a mop, broom and a "Wet floor" sign and cleaned up the spill, and then completed the stocking of the beverages.
When everything was done, I went to get my copy of the invoice from the cashier. I had expected a "Thank you" for attending to the mess I had made. Instead, the cashier snapped, "What broke before?"
"A bottle of Snapple," I replied, adding, "I took care of it so you wouldn't need to worry about it."
"Well, are we going to get credited for that?" she demanded.
Patiently understanding that this was not a large operation, and that every cent counts, I offered, "I really don't want to take the time to go through all that bureaucracy. I'll just buy the bottle."
She looked at me indignantly. "I don't know if we can do that!"
I slowly explained, "It's an awful lot of trouble to call the office, get the unit cost on the bottle and alter all the paperwork. I'll buy it, and that way your inventory isn't affected."
Flabbergasted, she left the register and went into the back office to talk with the store manager. "He broke a bottle when he was stocking, and now he wants to buy it! Can we do that??"
The manager was equally dumbfounded. "I don't know," she replied. How much was broken?"
"One bottle," informed the cashier.
By now I was quite put out that this had become such a federal issue. I went back to the office and interrupted the pow-wow by saying, "What's the difference between my breaking a bottle and a customer purchasing it? I'm acting as a customer, wanting to buy a bottle of Snapple. What's the problem?"
Finally, the manager relented, "Well... OK, I guess. I suppose we can do that."

Yeah, tough choice. I'm willing to buy a bottle at retail price, giving you your profit margin while successfully maintaining your inventory, rather than calling up the office and tying up our accountant while she tries to figure out the cost of one lousy bottle.

...And Pat thought I wouldn't have any stupid stories to tell after I left my last job to take this one!

Just another normal night at home

Today was a very stressful day for my wife. Stress tires her out, so sometimes things come out that either are extremely odd or quite hilarious. As the day wound down, and our youngest (26 months old) progressively destroyed the living room, my wife attempted to calm him down by reading to him. He loves Thomas the Tank Engine, and we had recently borrowed a Thomas book from the library called "Crack In the Track." My wife tiredly called from the couch, "Honey, come here. Do you want to read? Mommy's got crack!"

ROFL!!!
(She DID give me permission to use this, even though I typically don't call anything a member of my family says "stupid!" Thanks for a great laugh, sweetie!)

Double-standards at their finest

Today's offering comes courtesy Chuck shepherd's "News of the Weird," as published by Weekender Wire Services. The story is printed word-for-word. I do not claim authorship in any way or part...

In April, Rudy Rios, the junior varsity coach at Chavez High School in Houston, was fired from that job after the principal learned that he encouraged students to skip school to attend protests over U.S. immigration policy. Reportedly, Rios was not fired, however, from his other Chavez High job, which is as teacher of English as a foreign language, even though Rios wrote, on an immigration-protest flier: "We gots 2 stay together and protest against the new law that wants 2 be passed against all immigrants. We gots 2 show the U.S. that they ain't ($#!^) with out (sic) us."

Nice... That's nice... Not only a fine example of leadership to the youth of this nation (legal or otherwise) but also of the use of linguistics. Even more ridiculous, punish the dude by not letting him coach sports, but leave him in a position of influence in one of the largest cities in the country?

He seems to fit in well with the "No illegals = no burritos" crowd...

Not understanding laws of supply and demand

I entered a convenient store today to make a delivery, and noticed they had a request for a credit. I had received no special instructions from my office, so I took the credit slip in and asked the store manager about it.
"Yes," he told me, "It's actually a trade. We've been waiting for the birch beer, and so we want to exchange it with a case of the RC cola you brought last week."
"Unfortunately, we're still out of the birch beer," I notified the manager. "We've been waiting for it to come in for almost a month."
Disappointed, the manager asked, "Oh, so you don't have any birch on your truck?"
"No," I replied.
Mr. Manager said, "I don't understand. Your salesman, 'Mark,' told me we could do an exchange."
"Unfortunately," I informed him, "Mark forgot to check with the office to see if the birch was in stock." Bewildered, the manager asked me, "Why would the salesman not do that?"

Hmm... An excellent question indeed...

It's a Small World After All

Tonight, Jon Meyer reported the following story on WNEP-16...
"People in downtown Scranton (PA) got a bit of a surprise this afternoon as the bomb squad was set up around the Mall at Steamtown. They responded in response to an unusual situation, when a Portuguese man walked up to a Scranton police officer and said, 'He was going to blow up the world.' Officials checked out the scene and concluded that it was all just a hoax."
FIRST, last time I checked, making terroristic threats was still a felony. Why wasn't this dude arrested? SECOND, what kind of explosive device did this senor claim to possess? Has he been taking correspondence courses from the Iranians? Was he angry that the Portuguese have been overlooked in the immigration issue? Does he want a piece of what the Tex-Mex clan's got? Has the price of gasoline got him bummed out?

The world's going crazy! CRAZY I tell you!!!

What did I just see???

In my travels, I observe a lot of things that just don't make sense. For example, Friday, I was rolling along on a country road. The speed limit was 55 MPH, and the path goes parallel to a river. As such, for a 3 mile stretch, a guard rail borders the one side of the road, while a mountain-side cliff edges the other side. So there I am, zipping through at 55, when suddenly I spot a sign which read, "Falling Rock Zone."
...Is that supposed to make me feel better? I know the objective behind the sign is to alert drivers to a potential hazard, but when you're going 55, it doesn't matter if you're as alert as you could be or you're comatose!
Can you imagine some guy just driving along, minding his own business... "Hmm," he says to himself, "What's that sign say? 'Falling Rock Zone?' Oh, OK..... AAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!"
***THUD!***
Twenty minutes later the paramedics respond, cutting the guy out of his car crushed by a 5-ton boulder with the jaws of life... The medic calls, "Hey, bud, you OK?"
The man weakly mumbles, "Yeah... Wow! I'm sure glad there was a sign!"
"Yeah, that was lucky for you!" retorts the rescuer...

Dude, you MUST be trippin'...

Today, I had the distinct "pleasure" of co-delivering soda with "Jake." On one hand, it was nice to have an extra pair of hands on board, because I had a heavy work-load, but on the other hand, it was Jake.
Jake is a young, EXTREMELY brash, spastic, non-stop babbler. My other co-workers, Pat and "Randy" kidded with me today that I'd need some extra-strength Advil at the end of the day. ...Only they weren't exactly kidding. Truthfully, I think Jake may have ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and often makes a big mess of things by irritating folks around him, simply by being himself. (For example: he often emits a high-pitched scream at random for no apparent reason, talks with a fake southern accent and thinks it's hilarious, and cannot do simple math to save his life. He also frequently forgets where stores are located and fails to make deliveries.)
Today, he was rambling on and on and on, and suddenly began yawning. He quizzed, "Hey, you know what it means when you yawn?" Stupidly, I answered, "Yeah, your body is slightly depleted of oxygen." Importantly, Jake boasted, "Specifically, it means your brain needs oxygen when you think too much. That's my problem. I think a lot, and I guess I'm thinking too much today."

Oh, come ON.

Here, dude, I got a gallon jug of Nyquil with your name on it...

Waste not, eat not

Looks like that trip to the Chinese buffet just became a bit more Seinfeld-like.
Who owns this place, Mao Tse Tung? I mean, I know it's more offensive to some cultures than others to throw away perfectly good stuff, but doesn't this sound like the Ming-Nazi?
On the other side of the coin, you go into an eating establishment and repeatedly discard food that someone else could have enjoyed, you get called on it, and you're surprised?

I'd like to meet these people when they order Chinese take-out. They probably open all the fortune cookies, but toss them in the garbage, because they immediately don't care for the fortunes they get, like "Cease the day."

Convenient queen

Today, I traveled to the far reaches of civilization to make a soda delivery at a small (triple emphasis put on the word "small") convenient store located in the middle of nowhere off the interstate. I parked the truck, piled up the cases of drinks on my hand-truck, and entered the store. A cashier immediately came at me with a nasty glare and a sharp tongue. "You can't bring those cases in here right now. The Pepsi guy was here first, and only one vendor is allowed in at a time! It's company policy," she snorted. "Also, you'll have to take these outside and wait. I won't let you block up my aisles so my customers can't get what they want. My customers are very important to me..."

POINT #1: "Company policy???" You're a tiny mom and pop outpost set on the edge of the world! Do you think you're Microsoft or something?
POINT #2: Have you ever heard a businessman/woman say, "My customers aren't important to me?" Did you really think it was necessary to insult me? I'm just doing my job!

After waiting 20 minutes for the Pepsi dude to finish, the store manager came up to me and asked, "What are you doing out here?" I relayed my exchange with the cashier, and the manager said, "Don't listen to her. She's an idiot. I'm the boss here. Come on in..."

POINT #3: "Your" customers aren't even YOUR customers! And I will never be one of "your" customers either, because I don't shop in a store where I'm treated like a leper.

Yo quiero mi trabajo!

Attention, readers. I am about to reveal my own personal opinion about the immigration issue. Please, no nasty comments, as it IS simply my opinion. If you disagree, fine. You're entitled toy YOUR opinion. The reason I place this on my blog is because of the senseless lack of logic behind the focal statement...
I'm all for people of other races, creeds and nationalities having a chance to work in the US and provide for their families... IF... They go about it the right way! You come into the States with your visa to work, fine. You want to stay-- you go through the proper channels, and you take ACTIVE steps to become a US citizen! The "Day Without Immigrants" was a ridiculous and irresponsible excuse to manipulate the general populace of our country, and the following link, http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&ncid=1778&e=2&u=/060502/ids_photos_ts/r2048252209.jpg proves it.

Oh, no! Expel the illegals, and all the Taco Bells will shut down!!! What will I do when I want my Southwestern cuisine fix???
To reiterate: I am NOT a xenophobe! Just don't come into my country illegally and take my job away from me!!!

American politics 101

A full-page flier showed up in my mailbox today. It was from our local (Republican) congressman looking for votes to be re-elected... For my international readers, bear with me while I define our mess of a congressional system.
The two main political parties in the USA are Republicans and Democrats. Typically, Democrats are liberal in their views and agenda while Republicans tend to be conservative. With that said, I will now type what Congressman Sherman* printed...
"VOTER ALERT! Republican Voters Beware! ...Liberal Senator Ted Kennedy-- NOT a Republican!"
Oh, reeeeeeeally? I didn't know that!
"Democrat Party Chairman Howard Dean-- NOT a Republican!"
Yeah, OK, I get the point. Republican, Democrat. Got it. Why are you wasting ink and killing trees to tell me what I already know?

Would-be politician alert! Your insulting my intelligence will NOT earn you my vote!
*Name changed to spare said governmental figure head further embarrassment.

Confucius say, "Duh?"

I recently ordered Chinese take-out. And, what's Chinese food without a fortune cookie? (Or, as I call it, a "statement cookie.") Sometimes, the fortunes aren't even logical. Sorry if I sound a bit like Spock, but I can only shake my head when I read, "This instant is the only time there is."
So, sorry to inform you, reader, but since the present is the only time that exists, the past does not. Hence, you're not really reading this blog posting because you weren't born "X" years ago, and I didn't write this, because I wasn't born either; nor can you read this in the present, since it was posted in the past. Heck, 3 words prior to this doesn't even exist because it was passe. I could go on and on, but I'd probably forget what I'm talking about, since my train of thought was formulated a while ago...

Mr. Incredulous say, "That make as much sense as Chinese fortune cookie. Dry and crumbly, and nothing worth reading inside it anyway."

Tech support only. Thinking is optional.

I bought a new computer yesterday. (Old one crashed!) After making the purchase, I brought the machine home and hooked it all up. ...And nothing happened, other than the "On" light flashed. Obviously, something wasn't quite right, so I went back to the store today to make an exchange.
Per store policy, before completing a refund/exchange, tech support must check out the unit in question. OK, no problem, I thought. Mr. IT-- a very green barely college-age dude-- came out and hooked it up. Predictably, nothing happened. IT asked me, "When did you purchase this?"
"Yesterday," I factually replied.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if I told him I was Bill Gates. "Really?!" he pondered.
After removing the cover to the CPU, he made a startling discovery. "Hmm. This mother-board's bad. The whole thing's shot. When did you purchase this??"
A tad more forcefully, I replied, "Yesterday, at about 7:30 PM."
IT turned and called to his buddy, "Hey 'John.' Could you come look at this?"
After a brief consultation, John probed, "You bought this yesterday?"
"Yes,..." I coolly affirmed.
After about 5 more minutes of probing and puzzling, the 2 tekkies gave up and said almost in unison, "Well, I guess that happens from time to time! 'Alexa' will complete your exchange transaction now..."

They have been assimilated. Resistance was futile!

Doesn't Grab the Concept

Like most states, PA has a daily 3-digit number drawn in its lottery. One option, which costs $.50 more, is "boxing" your digits. For example, if you play 3-2-1 and the number drawn is 2-1-3, you still win. Boxing increases your chances, simply put, when you play different digits. The scene is set. On with the story!
Recently, my buddy Pat went into a convenient store to make a soda delivery. A young, unkempt, grubbed-out dude entered the store and asked the clerk for a daily number chance. "Yeah, I wanna play 6-6-6," he drawled, (Pat commented, "Why on earth would you play that number??") "...and BOX it..."
The clerk was a bit taken aback. "Uh, you don't have to box 3 digits that are the same."
Boy Wonder was undaunted. "No, I wanna box it," he determined.

Yep. There goes the future of America.

GPS: Goober Positioning System

I'm on the job today as a soda delivery driver, getting trained by my buddy Pat, he of telecommunications company fame... (Yes, the 2 of us working at the same place of business once again--scary!) We were completing a stop at an area drug store with the address 201 Wyoming Ave. The store sits on the corner of Wyoming and Market St. We were just getting into the cab of the truck when a man holding a hand-held computer pad came walking up to us from Wyoming. He asked me, "Excuse me, but can you tell me where 617 is?"
A rather vague question, I thought to myself. I assumed since he was coming from Wyoming that that was the street he meant. Still, I inquired, "You mean 617 Wyoming?"
"No," he replied. "I'm looking for 617 Market."
Pat stuck his head out the window of the truck and informed the man, "Market is this street intersecting on this side," pointing toward Market Street.
Without even the slightest pause, the lost dude guessed, "That blue building over there is Z & Z Auto parts, right?"
I wasn't as familiar with this neighborhood as Pat, so he shrugged, "I'm not really sure." Then he added, "If you turn right down Market here, you'll go past DWT Pharmacy. That's the 400 block, so you'll go 2 blocks past--"
"Right," interrupted Mr. Clueless. "I'll head down that way. Thanks," he called over his shoulder as he headed back-- toward Wyoming.
I got behind the wheel and Pat and I shared a little snicker. We went around the drug store, and before leaving the parking lot, we saw the Z & Z building (with an address of 102 Market) which was dark slate grey, not blue. As I waited for traffic to clear so I could leave the lot, I noticed the lost guy coming out of the auto parts store, still glancing down at his hand-held, coupled with a look of absolute bewilderment. Oh, yes, and once again walking toward Wyoming.

Why did he even ask??? Thanks, dude, for proving the old stereotype than men don't ask for-- or listen to-- directions.

2nd today: Bizarre Bunny makes Easter special

Our local weekly tabloid, "The Electric City," has a regular feature called "We Asked... You Answered in which the natives are polled about the most ridiculous things. This week's question: "What are the best and worst things you found in your Easter basket?" Enter our wack-o extraordinaire, Cale Orcult!
"The best: A couple of years ago I got a chocolate and vanilla cross. Jesus was white. I bit the head off it."

Say WHAT? Ah, yes, the old Anglo-Saxon Jesus rears his vanilla head once again, and is subsequently decapitated by Cale's teeth...

Continuing: "The worst (was when) the Easter Bunny left me some Easter pellets in my basket."
Dude, you've got some seriously twisted "friends." Raisinettes, anyone???

Yet another criminal mastermind

Nothing like drawing undue attention to yourself!!! This is simply too funny. Here's a guy who stood on a busy corner with a huge sign, calling out to any and all passers-by. And then he asks the local media to film him in action! "Oops, he did it again!"
How on earth do you expect to put yourself in the limelight and yet remain hidden from Big Brother? If Mr. DeHart is so willing to show his (lack of) mental capacities, I don't suppose one could put much confidence in the quality of his contracting work either... Hence his predicament...

Thanks, Johnny Boy, for aiding the long arm of the law, even though it didn't happen the way you had hoped! You win the Doofus of the Day grand prize, a one-way ticket to the Philadelphia city jail! Enjoy your accommodations.

2nd today: What's better than VD?

A local hard-rock band named Cyphilis-- yes, that's right-- has (finally) come under a lot of flack from family advocacy groups for indirectly promoting rampant sexual activity, resulting in grotesque illnesses. Now, I'm not sure why this band got singled out when you have groups out there with names like Disturbed, Slayer, Napalm Death, etc., but nonetheless... Soooo, in order to appeal to their distorted fans as well as the extreme right, they put out a quarter-page ad in the local weekly tabloid...
"Cyphilis... Soon to be renamed Spit Can."

Ah, yes, an unsanitary vessel used with the unhealthy and disgusting habit of chewing tobacco is such a gigantic improvement!!!

Bodman Boiled in Oil

As gasoline prices skyrocket, the media duly feeds the frenzy of P.O'd consumers by painting a distorted picture of greed-driven conspiracy theories and economic manipulation beyond global proportion. Looking for a fall guy, they center their attention on the evil mastermind of it all, US Secretary of Energy Samuel Bodman. The press are the puppet masters which so keenly take the most minute detail and make it blow up in their victims' faces, portraying absolute, incomparable idiocy. With all that said, (and apologies for sounding so much like sierra from Cloud of Idiot Gas) I have to admit my funny bone is effectively stricken at times by the national news force... Enter Dr. Bodman, drawling on in a very monotone voice...
"If there was a magic wand I could wave to cause the prices of gas to go down, uh, there isn't one,...."

Memo to Dr. Bodman, from the linguistics department of every institution of higher learning in the Northern Hemisphere: When beginning a statement with the word "If," a "Then" must follow!

...And you're a retail manager??

I'm enjoying my new job as a beverage delivery driver. There ARE the occasional moments of stupidity, however...
Today, my trainer "Jerry" and I stopped at a chain drug store. Jerry warned me that the manager here wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. We looked at the invoice, and saw they were only receiving a single case of 2-liters. (In case you didn't know, 2-L's always come in cases of 8 each, which is very plain to see.) We saw the manager, and she went to check in the miniscule order. This store checks in everything by piece count instead of case count. She entered in the case with her scan gun, paused, and asked us, "OK, how many pieces?"

A multi-billion dollar company, and you can't effectively check in one single case??
Boy, I'd hate to see the books this place keeps...

Too close for discomfort

I went to the grocery store after work to pick up a couple of things today. I got into a checkout line behind an elderly man, holding (literally) 4 items. As I patiently waited for the gentleman to have his order completed, I felt a bump at the back of my legs. I turned around to find a biker chick smugly jamming her cart into my calves. I shot her a firm, but polite look which said, "Could I please have a bit of room?"
Obviously, telepathy was not her strong suit.
I moved up 1 step as the gentleman in front of me prepared to pay, and meanwhile, I was getting 2-liters and boxes of spaghetti jammed into the small of my back. Without turning around, I pointedly called, "You're excused!" The comment was only met with a snicker and a snort. Finally, I was able to move up as the man in front exited the lane. No sooner had I done so when I noticed pressure put on the backs of my heels. I turned around and was nose-to-nose with Lulu.
I said, with much resignation, "Would you please give me some personal space here!?" Acting like I just told her I was wearing a time-bomb, she backed off one small step.
When the cashier finished with my order, I grabbed the receipt and was dismissed by Mrs. Harley with a sarcastic, "Have a wonderful day!"

OK, chickie-boo, if your goal is to see how many people you can thoroughly irritate, you've successfully added me to your list. Now go away.

A routine day on the job

Today was my first day as a driver for a beverage distributor. Going through my invoices, I spotted a delivery for the "Bear Creek Camp," I place I had never even heard of before. Turns out there's a good reason why.
After a long drive, I finally found the sign for the camp, and turned into the driveway. ...A very long, earthen red clay driveway. ...Extending deep into the forest... ...Through state hunting lands... Thoughts of "The Hills Have Eyes" and the "Blair Witch Project" ran through my mind. The trail twisted on and on and on through the thick woods for THREE MILES. This was indeed going to be a very unusual stop. After 3 long miles, a wood-carved overhead sign appeared. "Welcome to Bear Creek Camp," it read, giving me hope that this place can't possibly be any more remote. I was wrong.
After yet another mile's journey, I finally saw a large building in a slight clearing. A clean shaven man with a strange, foreign look in his eye--similar to Professor Okin's on "Independence Day"-- met me to show me where to place the cases of soda. He led me into the main building's dining area (across the road from a small shed-like building called "The Cubic Yard") and said in a creepy voice, "Here's the cooler. You can put them in theeeeere..." Nightmares about being shut up in a walk-in flashed through my thoughts.
The delivery now complete, I handed the invoice to the man to sign. His signature read, "Benth." ...Huh? Was that a code name for Jeffrey Dahmer??? I got into the truck, and even though the path was rough and dusty, I flew out there as fast as I could, yearning to make it back to civilization with haste. Finally, the overhead sign appeared, and on the back was carved, "Thanks for visiting us! Come back again! Tell a friend about us!" Alright, I'll tell others about you.
...If you're visiting Northeastern PA, don't EVER go to a place called "Bear Creek Camp," unless you enjoy living out horror films!

So concluded my first day on the job. I wonder what tomorrow will hold!

The blind leading... nobody

Well, my term of service at the uniform distribution center is complete. Friday was my last day, and I had to spend a large part of the day in "exit interviews." (This whole concept makes no sense to me whatsoever-- you're forcing your labor costs up by taking a resigning employee off the floor, creating more work for your co-employees? Why not just sign some paperwork and be done with it?)
The brand spanking-new, quite green plant manager, "Alice," asked me my primary reason(s) for leaving. I responded, "The greatest reason was the abysmal 84% customer service rating on trim application." (Click link to see that post.)
A puzzled look crossed Alice's face. "That was your primary reason for leaving? I don't understand." I (never took a college class on business administration) decided to explain this indicator to a graduate with an MBA in Business Admin.
"Think about it. 16% of our customers are unsatisfied with how the uniforms look?" Alice didn't get it. "I still don't see why you think that's such a big deal."
I educated, "If you just grab a garment out of a box and give it to someone, it's just a shirt or a pair of pants. When you place the emblems on it, it becomes a uniform. The emblems are the central focus of the uniform."
Alice still was confused. "I don't understand why you think the company position is that that's acceptable."
I said, "These were Jan's exact words," relaying the story of our morning update March 21st. "You think that's acceptable?"
Now Alice put on a defiant complexion. "Well, let me tell you, the truth is that's 84% 'meets expectations' and 16% opportunity..."
(Don't use your business buzzwords with me, lady! I'm not here to play Bingo!)
I had had enough of trying to describe--logically--why this is a bad precursor. "You can sugar-coat it all you want. Bottom line, it's 16% failure to please the customer, and NO corporation can survive like that, especially when it's considered 'not bad!'"

The funny thing about this whole exchange is that afterward, I was considered the bad guy, and was asked to leave as soon as the interview was over. I retorted, "No, I'm staying until the end of the day, because I told everyone I'd be here, and I'm a man of my word. Why should I create more work for my partners by not being here?" Alice, quite grudgingly, allowed me to stay.

Well, excuuuuuuuse me for trying to help your organization by crying out against complacency!

Tom Cruise IS nuts, chapter 2

My wife and I watched the Diane Sawyer interview with the Cruiser last night. I had been eagerly looking forward to it because I figured I'd have lots of fodder for this blog. On the whole, I was left disappointed. The only thing "stupid" that Tommy Boy said was in regards to his "faith" of Scientology. Now, I'm not going to delve into a whole explanation about Dianetics or anything--you can find all that info online. However, Tom (who is very close to reaching the top goal of becoming a "thetan," or "enlightened spirit") contradicted himself most severely, which I find rather odd, since he's pretty much the frontman for the CoS. His quote, when asked about Katie's Catholic background:
"You can be a Catholic and a Scientologist. You can be Jewish and a Scientologist. We're just Scientologists."
NOT SO! This is what the CoS says regarding their official position on "mixed faith":
["Do not engage in any rite, ceremony, practice, exercise, meditation, diet, food therapy or any similar occult, mystical, religious, naturopathic, homeopathic, chiropractic treatment or any other healing or mental therapy while on course without the express permission of the D of T, Case Supervisor and Ethics Officer." -L. Ron Hubbard, HCOPL 15 Dec. 1976R. Rev 25 July 1987.]
Catholicism is one of the most litugical of all religions, requiring much diligence and attention to specific prayers, rites and services. (I'm not criticizing it; just noting that the two faiths are incompatible!)
Well, Tom does have an "out," so we can discover.
"Now you say you have to absolutely truthful. Sincerity is the main thing, and truthfulness is the main thing and don't lie to anybody … and you'll get ahead. Brother you sure will. You'll get ahead right on that cycle of action, right toward zero! It's a trap not being able to prevaricate … This makes life more colorful!"
-L. Ron Hubbard, Philadelphia Doctorate Course Lecture

Great. Nothing like devotion to a belief system that's not believable!
*Please note that I am NOT "slamming" Scientology--just noting the obvious that there exists contradictions within the CoS in which Tom Cruise has become entrapped in. The reader should NOT assume that I am casting judgment upon a Scientologist.

2nd today: Well, it IS Lent, after all...

Normally, I don't blog statements made by my family members, but my wife gave me permission to use this one!

This evening, my wife was going through the cupboards and came across 2 jars of Gerber's meat sticks. They kind of resemble miniature hot dogs soaked in formaldehyde. (Memories of 10th grade biology class!) When my youngest, now 26 months old, was learning to feed himself, we tried these, but he didn't care for them. The visual comparison was a bit different to my wife, however. "I guess I might as well throw out these meat sticks. They just look like little hoo-ha's in a jar anyway!"

No polish sausage for you this Easter Sunday, honey!

Unfortunate acronym

Our local news station, WNEP-16, tonight reported on a nearby county putting together an emergency response effort to help rescue animals displaced by natural disasters, citing the huge loss of pets in NC during Hurricane Floyd a couple of years back. The organization formed is looking for volunteers to work with them. The name: SART, which stands for "State Animal Response Team."
Boy, am I glad it was state and not federal.

Could you imagine? "Hi, I'm John, and I'm with FART!"

Kick 'em while they're down!

Before divulging this little tale, I must pass on the news that I am starting a new job on Monday, THANK THE LORD! Therefore, I must go other places for my (nearly) daily dose of stupidity. Bart, R. I. P.
We have been working boucoup overtime lately, due to the fact that we have more orders coming in than we can ship out. On a normal day, our facility ships out about 22,000 garments. On a really good day, we can put out about 27,000. Our order backlog has climbed up to 46,000 pieces, and our bosses have been working us to death the past couple of days. This morning at our update, our plant manager reported that we shipped out 29,500 pieces Wednesday, but our backlog had only gone down by 700 garments. The PM then puffed out his chest and said, "We're going to have to pick up the pace if we're going to get this backlog down, people..."

Gee, thanks loads for your inspiring back-lashing. I'll fondly remember the psychological beatings... And the stupidity... And the appalling lack of quality leadership... And yes, maybe even Bart. ...A little...

Oh, you MUST be joking.

As a home educator, my wife often receives many product and service offers from numerous educational companies via the mail. Yesterday, a huge packet filled with 3x5 cards toting the latest from these organizations was delivered. I began to sift through the cards, separating offers which may someday be of interest to us from complete junk. I got a gigantic laugh out of how pathetic some of these "latest and greatest" items truly were, as they seek to dominate the Christian sub-culture scene. (My wife and I call this "marketing Jesus.") One card in particular made me shake my head in complete bewilderment. It featured a book by Vision Publishers, and it read:
IMMODESTY and what to do about it.
*Break free from the endless trap of the fashion world!
*Be informed about what the Bible has to say about personal appearance.
*Study questions make this a great book for self-guided Bible study!
The book title: "What Shall the Redeemed Wear? An in-depth look at what the Bible says about appearance, with study questions! 'You're not wearing that are you...?!'"

Oh, yes, by all means, PLEASE, let's add legalism and the Christianese liguistics to plain common sense, because apparently, the obvious isn't enough! What a sad, sad commentary on the dumbing down of America-- even as a direct result of the Church!

Beware. Stupidity is everywhere!

Oops, wrong number! ...I guess!

Today, the phone rang. Using the caller ID, Mish-mash mousse noticed it was an unfamiliar out-of-state number. (Being that the people who had our phone # before us are still using it to fraudulently to run up all sorts of crazy credit card charges, we recorded a message to let people know we are not "the Campolietos.")
RECORDING: Hello, and thank you for calling the Incredulous family. The Incredulous family is not at home, so if you'd like to leave a message for the Incredulouses, please do so after the beep. If you are not calling for the Incredulouses, you have the wrong number, but please feel free to leave your message if you ARE trying to reach the Incredulous family. *beep!*
MESSAGE, enthusiastic voice: Hi! It's me, Linda! How are you guys? I'm not trying to reach the Incredulouses, so sorry to bother you! *click*
Well, at least she was polite and good-natured about it, but if you got an answering machine message, and it was someone other than who you're looking to speak to, wouldn't you just hang up?

Thanks for the chuckle, Linda, all the same.