I really dislike those pithy little sayings like "A picture paints a thousand words" and "Three times is a charm". People tend to take them as actual maxims of life, giving them far more weight than they could possibly merit, simply because they are well known. They absolve people of the burden of rational thinking and justifying their arguments. Instead of arguing and proving a point, just throw an idiomatic saying at it.

Take "Three times is a charm" for example. People throw this one out to escape culpability for screwing the pooch twice. They wouldn't be on time three if they hadn't royally fucked up time one and time two. more...

Posted by: Jim at 08:02 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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So I read today that Ayatollah Ali Khameini has stated that, among other things, spanking the monkey during Ramadan is a no-no. Well, unless it's unintended masturbation and/or you don't jizz; in which case it's just an accident. I'm not sure exactly how one masturbates without the intention of masturbating, let alone how all this goes on without sealing the deal, as it were. I mean, in all honesty, if I had to go a month without releasing the hounds; that shit would probably happen in my sleep. The body has a way of taking care of itself, you know. I guess I could never be a good Muslim.

Which, that being said, I was never really a good Catholic either. Because I'm pretty sure I've never lasted an entire Lent without, in the Ayatollah's words; 'discharging'.

Anyways, my awesome idea. You can't keep beer in a freezer, and I can't set the fridge low enough to keep my beer suitable cold without making the veggies and other items too cold. Apparently, it's lonely being a cold brew.

So I came up with an idea that will help keep my beer perfectly cold, without having to get entangled in the whole 'two fridge' situation. See, I bought a length of that large plastic flex-piping that people use for dryer exhaust. Then I cut a hole in the side of the freezer, right where the ice maker is. I cut the spigot off of a large funnel, and attached it to the end of the hose. Now, I have an automatic ice machine for my beer cooler. Just need to get some of that insulation stuff to wrap around the plastic flexpipe.

However, the house we're moving into has a full wet bar with it's own refridgerator; so this whole setup is merely temporary.

Except for the hole in the side of the freezer. I haven't figured out how I'm going to get that one past the landlord. So, you know, any ideas are greatly appreciated.

Posted by: shank at 03:33 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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In the middle of my second day of all day meetings about how to beat project Lizzie Borden into a semblance of order I received an instant message from another one of my clients.

Carol says: do you or any of your cronies know if we're moving to IPv6? it's a discussion topic in one of my classes this week.

Jim says: IPv6 has been an approved standard for a decade. Nobody is going to go through the pains of implementing it until weÂ’re all out of IP addresses. Then it will be a huge rush to implement, just like Y2K compliance was. There will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Doomsayers will spin tails of woe about all electronic transactions failing and the crash of the Internet porn industry causing global financial collapse.

Jim says: Then after nothing much happens for a while the news will refocus on terrorism and the latest Gallup poll showing that 47% of registered voters really arenÂ’t qualified to pick their noses much less a president and the whole IPv6 story will fade to its proper place as a Trivial Pursuit question.

Carol says: you're a bit cynical

Jim says: Flatterer!

Two things jumped out at me when I reread this. First, I'm the only person I know who uses capitalization and punctuation in instant messages. Second, I'm a geek of godlike proportions.

Posted by: Jim at 07:57 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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Spinster-
Your rackets are leaving tomorrow or the next day. However, there was a small problem.

See, I spotted this box at the loading dock at work that I thought would fit. I mean, I was just eyeballing it; and figured it would do fine. So I bring it home and wouldn't you just know that bastard was one fucking inch to short. Well, not to be outdone by corrugated cardboard, I dug out my McGuyver skills.

Needless to say, you'll be recieving a slightly oddshaped package in the next few days. And I didn't have any newspaper (seriously, who reads hard copy anymore?) to pack it in, so you can thank me later for the free issue of FHM. Of course, it's no longer bound; but I'm pretty sure each page is numbered so you could just sort the peices.

Posted by: shank at 06:49 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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So I was hearing in the blogosphere today that Spain has decided to 'tone down' a celebration that has been going on for quite a while. Apparently, the Spaniards were dominated for centuries by Muslim overlords. You know, the whole 'spread religion by the sword' type of folks. They regained independance, and for the past; oh, five hundred years or so have celebrated escape from the Reconquista by filling pinatas with fireworks and blowing those bitches up. That is, pinatas fashioned after Mohammed himself.

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Posted by: shank at 06:41 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I'll never understand why some organizations choose their mascots. A mascot should stir admiration. It should be noble, but at the same time ready to dispatch it's competitors with extreme prejudice. Apparently, there are a few folks out there who didn't get the memo. To wit:

Blue Jays, Cardinals, Ducks, Orioles, and any other bird that is not a bird of prey. There's nothing about any of these creatures that rouses one's competitive spirit. Seriously, what kind of pussy runs onto the field screaming "GOOO RED-BREASTED PLOVERS!!"

Same with Beavers, Terrapins, or Turtles. Are these animals even carnivorous?

Inanimate objects are beyond stupid, and it is in this category that we find the most undeniably idiotic team mascot in the history of organized athletics: The Buckeyes. For a top seded football team, you'd think they might consider opting for a team mascot that's something other than a nut. Like maybe a fire hydrant. At least you could spray the shit out of someone with a fire hydrant. What the hell are you going to do with that nut? Bake some fucking cookies? Same goes for the Syracuse Orange. Seriously, I thought the term Orangemen was in reference to a group of transient northeastern citrus workers known for their ferocity and spirit in battle. Unfortunately, it's just an orange. Christ on a bicycle.

Notice here, that I haven't made mention of odd mascots. You know, the Tennesee Volunteers, the Purdue Boilermakers, the New York Knickerbockers. The thing is, at least these mascots have a locally relevant, historically significant story behind them. Unlike, say, the USC Trojans. Last time I checked, there was no historical record of a band of Trojan warriors settling in the greater Los Angeles area.

Clothing items. Seriously, if all you've got to be proud of are a pair of red or white socks; that's sad.

There's one that I just don't get though. The Crimson Tide. If that's a reference to the algal bloom that occasionally chokes aquatic ecosystems; that's fuckin' harsh. At that rate, it's only a matter of time before we have the Anaheim AIDS or the Cleveland Chlamydia. As sure as I am that everyone in Cleveland probably has chlamydia; I don't think it's something they'd opt to name one of their teams.

Posted by: shank at 09:21 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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I'd spent Tuesday and Wednesday out of the office at management seminars. You know, those time honored boredom marathons that become sound more and more alike with each passing quarter.

So I got up this morning with a real fire under my ass. I was looking forward to going into my office, shutting the door, and getting some work done. No interruptions, no drop-by shootings ("Hey! Can I just have a minute of your time buddy?"), no bullshit. I'm up at seven and leaving the house at 7:15. Seriously, hair gelled, teeth brushed, the whole deal. I'm from a military family and was trained at a young age to shit, shower, and shave in five minutes or less.

I get to the commuter lot, hop out of the car and realize two things. Firstly, I'd forgotten my lunch. I pack food everyday so I have the option of eating something that's not meant to kill me from the inside out. Shit. Secondly, I've forgotten to wear a belt. Again with the shit. I decide neither item is worth driving back home for. I'll find a salad somewhere, and the slacks I wore weren't center-button; so I decided to keep truckin.

I briskly walk across the lot, jump on the bus, and check my pocket for the office keys. Shit. Nobody's going to be there this early, so if I don't have them I'm going to have to bother some security guard to key me in. I ask the two or three folks waiting in the bus to not let it leave without me. I'm speedwalking, walksprinting back to my car. Unlock, check the console...Oh, sweet Jesus the keys are there! I'm in a dead walkrun back to the bus, make it just in time; and flop down in the seat.

Whew.

Then I hear the man sitting behind me lean forward and whisper in my ear, "Hey man, your zipper's down." I fight the urge to have a fit wherein I throw my shoulderbag across the bus, emptying it's contents on several passengers; and throw random fists. Fists of fury.

"Thanks," I say to the guy. I actually mustered an honest laugh. I mean, what the hell else could I do, right?

Besides, like we don't all play a little pocket pool in rush hour traffic every once in a while. Seriously, that could be the only explanation for the way you people drive.

Posted by: shank at 08:20 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Life is a horrible grind.

Yesterday I was forced to go to the grocery store. Grocery stores are a microcosm of society and I suppose that if I had the right prescription I might find it educational or amusing, but for the most parts itÂ’s just depressing.

Anyway IÂ’m in the bakery section and some old bastard is standing directly in front of the fresh rolls like heÂ’s guarding them. He was talking, actually hollering, into a cell phone. From what I could gather from his side of the conversation his wife was berating him and telling him exactly what to buy, right down to the smallest detail. Meanwhile heÂ’s blocking the rolls. I stood there respectfully for about a minute, not wanting to interrupt his conversation and say excuse me, but my patience has a limit. I finally just edged him aside, grabbed the tongs and a bag and cleaned out every roll they had in the joint.

Just as I started to turn away I heard him holler into the phone, “Oh my God! Some guy just took all the Kaiser rolls!” I turned and gave him a little wave and started to walk away. His wife must not have liked what he said because he started stammering and then I heard, “He’s got all the Kaiser rolls! He’s leaving with all the Kaiser rolls!”

And indeed I was. He started to follow me like he was going to debate my right to them or even threaten to take them by force but in the end he skulked away without approaching me. And as I walked toward the checkout I could still hear him on the phone trying to explain about the guy who absconded with all the Kaiser rolls. “He even took the ones with sesame seeds!”

I drove away feeling exhilarated and optimistic.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 10:20 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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At night, I can recognize a car at a distance; just by the shape of its glowing taillights.

The new iPod commercial, the one with all the dancers holding colored iPods; I'm pretty sure the music playing is DJ QBert. I haven't checked to be sure, but if it's not him then it's someone who's either sampling the same beat or simply being a biter.

I can remember the way things look. Like pages in books, notes, diagrams, photographs, all that stuff. Not only can I remember them, but it's almost like re-seeing them.

The only super power I've ever wanted though, was to have my own soundtrack. Like, everywhere I went I could just pick a song from my head and have it play on the nearest radio/jukebox. If I wanted to though, I wouldn't want it to be automatic. Yeah, that would probably just cause problems.

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

Posted by: shank at 08:19 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I'm pretty sure a guy at work today lost his job because of some dickwad loudmouth with an agenda, who couldn't see the forest for the trees. I find it kind of upsetting for several reasons, not limited to: the guy did great work, was committed to the organization, and I never saw him (ever) use his position of substantial power as leverage to be a tool. I mean, this is a guy who made a six digit salary (hey, in my line of work that's serious), is/was currently running a several hundred million dollar project on time and ahead of budget and what not. He could've easily been a dick to everyone and still kept his job.

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Posted by: shank at 05:54 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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This is totally random, but I figured what the hey.

The Wife and I cleaned the house from top to bottom a few weekends ago. I mean, made a pile of shit to give away to goodwill and a pile of shit to throw out. You know, cleared out the garbage and used the created space to organize those things which we've actually used in the past year or so.

However, we ended up with a small pile of things that we felt would be stupid to bring to The Salvation Army, but equally stupid to just chuck in the trash. If you're interested in more details of the following objects, or seeing photos of them; just email me.

If any of the four people who read this blog actually take any of this stuff off my hands, I'll come back and update to avoid confusion. I'm not listing any prices because it's totally negotiable (and by that I mean, all the way down to $0); though I'd expect the buyer to pay shipping. Actually, there's only one item with a price tag.

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Posted by: shank at 05:28 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I walked out to my car yesterday afternoon and was much chagrined to find that some a-hole had parked their BMW about six inches off my port side. Jerk. I purposefully park far away from other people so as to avoid any door dinging. It means I have to park in the very back, but that's okay with me. I have legs.

So as I'm cursing and trying to shoehorn myself into the driver's seat, I look down through this person's window and see an uneopened peice of mail. Aha, gotcha goddamnit! I'm going to get your name off that peice of mail and harbor a silent grudge against you, you fucking prick! So I did, and I do.

But then I saw something sitting next to the envelope that lightened my mood. I felt instantly avenged in my irritation at this person, and even smiled. What could it have been, the simple sighting of which would quench my anger and soothe my ill temper? Why, it was a big ol' box of these.

That's what happens to people who spend their lives irritating others. Fate smiles upon them and says, "Now you shall piss yourself forever more...bitch."

Posted by: shank at 03:29 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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"He walks like John Wayne." - Hugo Chavez

As opposed to, say, walking like you've got the fist of your Islamofascist puppeteer up your ass?

Posted by: shank at 03:26 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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So I was cruising around work the other day, asking people about which doctors they see, which doctors I shouldn't see, etc. I work at a hospital, so there's lots of info available. Well, I go to the Medical Staff Office, and one of my friends is like, "Dude, I can look up the doctor you're going to see, and tell you if he's got priviledges here."
"Well, why does that matter?"
"I guess it doesn't matter as much as it's a safegaurd. Every doctor on staff goes through background checks, reassignment, etc."
"Okay, look up Dr. Fuckface."
So he looks up my doctor and lo and behold; he's not on staff.
"Hey man, this doesn't neccesarily mean your doctors a quack or anything."
"Yeah right. Aren't they all?"
"Well, if he's strictly a family medicine guy then he probably just refers his admits to a doctor on staff because he doesn't want to have to work weekends or call."
"Hmph."
"Check with the AMA. They have a website."

At this point, my shit is starting to squick. The Wife is sending me to some weirdo guy who got his medical degree in Tajiqistan, and probably uses the same needle every day.
I go to the AMA website and look his name up. He's not a member (surprisesurprise). But he is listed. WTF does that mean? He told the AMA he was a doctor, but didn't want to pay the membership fees? He's a fucking doctor! Goddamnit, he can afford to pay the membership fees!

So really the only thing I know for certain about my doctor is that he couldn't pass a preliminary background check or drugscreen, and that the AMA is reluctant to claim him.

It's a good thing I'm documenting all this. If you guys don't hear from me on Friday afternoon, it'll probably be because I've been kidnapped by Dr. Mengele and taken to his secret lab; where he will perform some fucked up experiment or another. Fucking quarter me and try to stich my arms where my legs used to be and vice versa. Fuck!

Posted by: shank at 05:07 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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"[T]hose who study jihad will understand why Islam wants to conquer the whole world. Â… Islam says: Whatever good there is exists thanks to the sword and in the shadow of the sword! People cannot be made obedient except with the sword! The sword is the key to paradise, which can be opened only for holy warriors!"
-Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini

Wow, that's nice; real nice. How very 12th century of you, sir. Quite the, shall we say, pre-Renaissance man you are. It must be for this reason that TIME Magazine chose to distinguish yourself as one of the 100 Most Remarkable People of the last century.

I do have one question though, if I may. When we get down to it, are a bunch of raisins really worth all the effort? I mean, let's be honest: raisins really aren't all that tasty, nor are they rare. So I ask you; is a jihad really a jihad if, instead of becoming your holy warrior and recieving a just reward in paradise, any old infidel can buy the very same rewards for $1.49 a box at Food Lion? And that being said, does that make the uncovered woman on the SunMaid box just another one of the Great Satan's whores?

Posted by: shank at 03:57 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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So, I go to the doctor this week for a check up. I't been widely documented that I don't enjoy going to the doctor. It's not a thing I have against doctors per se, it's just a thing I have about the actual visit. Don't enjoy it. Don't give blood either, don't even know my own blood type; definitely don't like needles. Don't like being examined, don't like being scrutinized, don't like being violated by someone who I can't call by their first name. Hey, if you're gonna be piercing my skin or spelunking my orifices with some kind of scary implement, I should be able to call you whatever the fuck I want. Especially since I have to pay your sick ass for the favor.

I haven't been inside a doctor's office in easily four years. And before that I hadn't been in another few years either - and that was only because I had a broken wrist. I'm not kidding. I don't go to the doctor.

The Wife is a nurse, so she's all hell bent on me getting a checkup. Which means bloodwork.

Oh, let it sink in. In my entire life, I've had blood taken from my body maybe twice. I can't remember if they took blood at the MEPS when I was applying for OCS, but I know I had to have bloodwork done when I was about ten years old. Scared the piss out of me. It didn't help that it was at Quantico, and the guy in front of me had just gotten back from some far-flung deployment and was having several vials drawn. I thought I was going to pass out.

I hate going to the doctor. I try not to be mean to the MD, but I can't help coming off just a tad surly. Seriously, I don't care if I get prostate cancer; you're not putting that, there. I'd at least like to be drunk for something like that. I'd just as soon go under anesthetic and have them remove the damn gland than be conscious for what I can only imagine would be the most traumatising event of my sheltered existence.

Posted by: shank at 05:33 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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Now, I don't know if this clothes thing is something with all women or just The Wife; but I'd be willing to bet it's virtually universal.

For instance, The Wife currently owns seven pairs of flip-flops. I just went around the house and counted them. Of course, this doesn't include any that might be in her car, but we'll get to that later. Seriously, who honestly needs that many pairs of flip-flops? Dude, I own 11 pairs of shoes total, and that includes snowboard boots and 2 pairs of shoes I've worn twice in the past two years.

Then there's the outfits thing. Like, we went on the honeymoon right? So I packed up enough clothes for a week: clean boxers and socks for each day, a couple t-shirts, a couple pairs of shorts, one or two nicer shirts, and a pair of decent jeans. She, on the other hand, packed up like two or three outfits for every day we were gone.
"We're going to an island! We're probably going to spend most of our time in bathing suits." I just didn't get why she needed twice the clothing that I was bringing. Then she encapsulated it for me:
"I just don't know what I'm going to feel like wearing."

My brain is a lock-step logic machine, so when she made this statement I almost passed out. What did she mean 'feel like wearing'? What the hell is that? It's clothes, how can you 'feel' like wearing one thing over the other? How can she 'feel' like wearing anything other than what conditions call for? Does this mean if she 'feels' like wearing a fur coat in July that she truly would? In that case, we'd never get to travel anywhere because we'd 'feel' like bringing her entire wardrobe everywhere. The situation was terribly confusing. She finally crammed whatever she 'felt' like bringing into her suitcase. Yeesh.

I get out to the car to load it up, and what do I see? A fucking closet on wheels. Seriously, there are pairs of shoes (sneakers, boots, heels; and of course, flip-flops), pants, a few blouses, a light sweater, some socks, her lab coat, and a plastic grocery bag of trash. Christ! If she had to make a sudden stop, she'd probably get clubbed over the head with a flying boot or something. What really worries me, is that we're thinking of getting her a larger car when we have kids. We're going to lose the little bastards in there if it's her daily driver! Hell, one of my crumbsnatchers is going to go missing and we'll find him three years later in the back of our mid-size sedan, buried under a mountain of women's apparel and subsisting on remnants dug out of Chinese take-out boxes.

WTF is up with the clothes, woman? And wouldn't you know, if I leave a pair of shoes sitting by the goddamn bed I catch hell for it. It's not my fault she's the only one that trips over them. Maybe if she got rid of all the goddamn flip-flops and wore something that covered her toes, she wouldn't be stubbing the motherfuckers on everything.

Posted by: shank at 05:10 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Last year the Dixie Chicks sent their radio play and CD sales into the shitter because they couldnÂ’t just shut up and play music. Pearl Jam did the same thing, whining about politics at concerts. And now Roger Waters of Pink Floyd has decided to paint the ass of his giant pink pig with anti Bush/Blair stuff at concerts and even takes it a step further but I canÂ’t bear to sort through it.

Yeah, we all need political advice from someone that has ingested more hallucinogens than Carlos Castaneda. On another note, why are there no fast Pink Floyd songs?

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:53 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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Somehow I got a trial subscription to Rolling Stone magazine. First issue I received had Justin Timberlake on the cover wearing a wet T-shit. Inside under album reviews, Paris HiltonÂ’s album was given three starts.

Jesus wept.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 07:01 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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The Pope recently quoted a 14th century Byzantine Emperor when he spoke of Islam's tendency, to say the very least, to walk a fine line between religious zeal and incendiary violence. Several Muslim communities and nations around the world were pretty pissed at his insinuation and responded with, of course, rage. Hm. Fancy that!

"Anyone who describes Islam as a religion as intolerant encourages violence." - Pakistani Ministry of Foreign Affairs Spokesperson Tasnim Aslam.

Black shirt - $13.50
Green Karate Kid bandanna - $5.00
Raging in the streets to prove you're nonviolent? Priceless.

Posted by: shank at 11:50 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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