I went into the break room just now as a sort of, you know, break and stuff, and noticed the following taped to the front of the Pepsi machine:
“POTENTIALLY OUT OF ORDER… USE AT YOUR OWN RISK ... – SECURITY.”
Potentially out of order? Just how helpful is this sign? If I was a soda drinker, which I’m not, would I consider this sign dissuading enough to bypass my daily dose of 'death water?' Consider smokers for a second. Yes, I know ... gross. They smell like mobile wild fires, they look like your great grand mother only they are, you know, 22, they hack like their name was Buddy Hackett (get it? his name has HACK right in it and, you know, smokers cough AND hack! wow that’s clever), yet they continue to blithely puff away even though there is a warning from General Surgeon telling them its not a good idea ( I bet if General Surgeon threatened them with military action they’d change their tunes).
Anyhow, I got to thinking of other signs that may or may not have been, or possibly could be, effective. I wonder if other signs from this ‘SECURITY’ Samaritan could help in other avenues. For example, what would have happened if we had seen the following pinned to the lapel of our illustrious president prior to the most recent election:
“POTENTIALLY EGOMANIACAL, WARMONGERING, NARCISSISTIC, BUMBLING, AND/OR PROFITEERING … ELECT AT YOUR OWN RISK … - SECURITY. PS, UNINTENTIALLY A VERY AMUSING SPEAKER”
If I had seen the following:
“POTENTIAL PIGEON HAUNTING AND OR HOUNDINGS … PURCHASE AT YOUR OWN RISK … - SECURITY.”
tacked to the ‘for sale’ sign of my house would it have influenced my decision making process? I mean, other than the deceased little bastard in my window well, I had no idea that I would be harangued and harassed by the flying vermin (side note: I’ve decided to escalate my war on these devious little flying menaces this weekend).
What about this,
“POTENTIALLY BITCHY AND OR DEMANDING RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BIG GAME … DATE AT YOUR OWN RISK… - SECURITY.”
when you think you’ve found the best little hottie around with whom to hang? Think that might change your thinking about shagging?
I can’t help but think that prior to Chipotle being placed on my ‘Do NOT Solicit’ list, that the following,
“POTENTIALLY DREAD ILLNESS INDUCING BURRITO … CONSUME AT YOUR OWN RISK … - SECURITY.”
could quite possibly have prevented a horrid night of excruciating stomach pains and explosive bodily emissions.
A few years ago, a friend of mine purchased this incredibly sweet sports car that he in no way could afford; this could have given him pause:
“POTENTIAL TO DINE EXCLUSIVELY UPON RAMAN UPON PURCHASE … SUCCUMB TO SCUMY PRESSURE INDUCING SALESMAN AT YOUR OWN RISK … - SECURITY.”
I tell you, ‘SECURITY’ is missing his calling. Think of all the good he could accomplish in the world.
“POTENTIAL OF HAVING CRAZY BIZNATCH ALL UP IN YOUR GRILL WITH HER BIG ASS BOYFRIEND… TIE DOG TO POLE AT YOUR OWN RISK … - SECURITY.”
Friday, April 28, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Nailed it!!
In what I can only applaud as a testament of persistence and the creative use of carpentry equipment, I give you this(link).
Ok, time for my Austin Powers impersonation.. Ahem..
I’d say he really…. nailed … that … idea … baby.
Wow, he knows how to…. hammer …. it…. Home.
I’d say he gave those doctors … a … piece …. of … his … mind.
Yeah, baby, yeah!!!
Ok, time for my Austin Powers impersonation.. Ahem..
I’d say he really…. nailed … that … idea … baby.
Wow, he knows how to…. hammer …. it…. Home.
I’d say he gave those doctors … a … piece …. of … his … mind.
Yeah, baby, yeah!!!
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Gym rat!!
I'm not a gym rat, per say, but I do like to hit the gym on a fairly regular basis. There are, if you have never been to the gym, several types of people that go as described by my buddy GKL.
The gym, for the uninitiated, is a fascinating place due almost entirely to the people whom attend. I, myself, find that each plays a vital role in the dynamics of the gymnasium.
For example, let us take the ‘grunters’. These gargantuans of groan, giants of gasp, behemoths of bellow, gye-normo-cons of, er, gro-asp-ellow act as the conscious for those of us who may tend to lose focus. They startle us with their sudden explosions of expletives, clankings, boomings, boastings, and beratings. I sometimes find myself, after such an explosion, running to the 2.5 lb dumbbells and squeezing out two or three hard won repetitions in a flurry of guilt and reapplied will power.
The ‘maintainers’, as JKL pointed out, are the sane ones. These are the people that you see all the time and, unlike the ‘grunters’, are not afraid to make eye contact. They offer a soothing familiarity to the gym. When you see them and you think, hey, there is that one guy/gal, and you give them the ‘lip-thrust-head-nod-eye-brow-scrunch’ which is how maintainers recognize each other. It is sort of like the gym equivalent of a ‘Hey, how ya doin?’ without losing the much needed focus for exertions and strenuations (I just made that word up… Feel free to use it as you see fit) on silly greetings and banalities.
Now, JKL’s ‘poser’ category is too broad. It should be split thusly:
‘Displayers’: This is the women/men who come into the gym with little to no coverings. The women tend to be enhanced, scientifically speaking, about the upper torso region and wear a degree of makeup that runs the gambit from copious to subtle. The men tend to focus most of their efforts in the gym to the upper torso region and wear spaghetti strap tanks and have trouble scratching their own behinds. They both walk with their heads turned to the side so as to see their glory reflected in the many, ah, reflective surfaces (reflective surfaces are a necessary furnishing requirement at most gyms) as they walk to and from machinery and drinking supplies. The role of ‘displayers’ for me is that, with some exceptions, they are pleasing to watch. They bounce, swagger, sashay, swish, jiggle, and flaunt their way around the gym in a manner that is quite pleasing at times. Being an aesthetician, I have an eye for these displays of pumped and prepped fleshy parts.
‘Seasonals’: The ‘seasonals’ are the most irritating, if only because they tend to flood the gym and occupy equipment that is otherwise and normally freely available. These are the people that show up because of 1) resolutions, 2) spring is coming, or 3) summer is coming. They are a temporary bunch and they slowly dwindle away after a couple of weeks of what originally was going to be a defining lifestyle change but which turns out to be a whole lot more work than it is worth. One of the good things about the ‘seasonals’ is that them occupying my space lets me focus more on the ‘displayers’ between sets and or exercises... that is until the next startling bellow.
The one really fascinating category I would like to add is:
‘Bored house wife (BHW)’: These are by far the most entertaining. They are part ‘displayer’ and part ‘maintainer’ with a social piece tossed in for good measure. They have wedding rings with rocks the size of a small planet or they don’t wear rings at all. They come in groups, wear very aesthetically pleasing outfits and have bodies that result when you can focus both time and money. They tend to be dedicated to working out, but they also have ample time for socializing. Did I mention the aesthetically pleasing outfits? The ‘BHWs’ are normally very entertaining to speak with during the ‘seasonals’ seasons and they are sometimes distracting enough that the ‘grunters’ best efforts at boomings, clankings, screachings and scroamings (yes, scroamings) tend to fall on unfocused ears.
The gym, for the uninitiated, is a fascinating place due almost entirely to the people whom attend. I, myself, find that each plays a vital role in the dynamics of the gymnasium.
For example, let us take the ‘grunters’. These gargantuans of groan, giants of gasp, behemoths of bellow, gye-normo-cons of, er, gro-asp-ellow act as the conscious for those of us who may tend to lose focus. They startle us with their sudden explosions of expletives, clankings, boomings, boastings, and beratings. I sometimes find myself, after such an explosion, running to the 2.5 lb dumbbells and squeezing out two or three hard won repetitions in a flurry of guilt and reapplied will power.
The ‘maintainers’, as JKL pointed out, are the sane ones. These are the people that you see all the time and, unlike the ‘grunters’, are not afraid to make eye contact. They offer a soothing familiarity to the gym. When you see them and you think, hey, there is that one guy/gal, and you give them the ‘lip-thrust-head-nod-eye-brow-scrunch’ which is how maintainers recognize each other. It is sort of like the gym equivalent of a ‘Hey, how ya doin?’ without losing the much needed focus for exertions and strenuations (I just made that word up… Feel free to use it as you see fit) on silly greetings and banalities.
Now, JKL’s ‘poser’ category is too broad. It should be split thusly:
‘Displayers’: This is the women/men who come into the gym with little to no coverings. The women tend to be enhanced, scientifically speaking, about the upper torso region and wear a degree of makeup that runs the gambit from copious to subtle. The men tend to focus most of their efforts in the gym to the upper torso region and wear spaghetti strap tanks and have trouble scratching their own behinds. They both walk with their heads turned to the side so as to see their glory reflected in the many, ah, reflective surfaces (reflective surfaces are a necessary furnishing requirement at most gyms) as they walk to and from machinery and drinking supplies. The role of ‘displayers’ for me is that, with some exceptions, they are pleasing to watch. They bounce, swagger, sashay, swish, jiggle, and flaunt their way around the gym in a manner that is quite pleasing at times. Being an aesthetician, I have an eye for these displays of pumped and prepped fleshy parts.
‘Seasonals’: The ‘seasonals’ are the most irritating, if only because they tend to flood the gym and occupy equipment that is otherwise and normally freely available. These are the people that show up because of 1) resolutions, 2) spring is coming, or 3) summer is coming. They are a temporary bunch and they slowly dwindle away after a couple of weeks of what originally was going to be a defining lifestyle change but which turns out to be a whole lot more work than it is worth. One of the good things about the ‘seasonals’ is that them occupying my space lets me focus more on the ‘displayers’ between sets and or exercises... that is until the next startling bellow.
The one really fascinating category I would like to add is:
‘Bored house wife (BHW)’: These are by far the most entertaining. They are part ‘displayer’ and part ‘maintainer’ with a social piece tossed in for good measure. They have wedding rings with rocks the size of a small planet or they don’t wear rings at all. They come in groups, wear very aesthetically pleasing outfits and have bodies that result when you can focus both time and money. They tend to be dedicated to working out, but they also have ample time for socializing. Did I mention the aesthetically pleasing outfits? The ‘BHWs’ are normally very entertaining to speak with during the ‘seasonals’ seasons and they are sometimes distracting enough that the ‘grunters’ best efforts at boomings, clankings, screachings and scroamings (yes, scroamings) tend to fall on unfocused ears.
Types of laughter that make me laugh
Like most people who are, you know, about my age, I've seen Mary Poppins on several occasions. It’s a brilliant show and I'll have to beat you if you disagree (well, not really, as I'm typically against beatings in general, BOCTAOE). At any rate, there is a scene on the DVD in which DVD (Dick VanDyke) talks about how different people laugh and then they end up on the ceiling. No, I’m not sure if that is some kind of symbolism, but I think there is an anti drug message in there somewhere. He mentions the laughing into your hands, gut busting laughs, tittering (good word, tittering. Its story is like a mini comedy, you know? So its one of the few words that just works for what it was built [invented? derived?] to describe. And, believe it or not, it’s also an onomatopoeia. Which sort of explains part of what I wrote in this tangent - I just realized that if you can follow anything at all of what I just wrote, you are, quite frankly, as troubled as I am), hissing, popping, cackling, muffling, snickering, chuckling, et al.
Those are all well and good for, you know, “Mary” and company, but here are the laughs that make me chuckle (yes, you may notice that this word is in the above list, but only because I added it after first writing it here. So, you know… there ya have it):
Inappropriate laughter: On the ‘Simpsons’ the doctor character is a perfect example of this type. I.e., ‘Yes, you have inoperable brain cancer. (hee hee heh)’ I’ve done this before myself. One of the colleges I went too was about 80 miles from my home, consequently, I would drive back home from school fairly often. On one such occasion, as I was driving back to the college, I hit a fairly nasty batch of black ice. (‘black ice’ is the term for ice that you can’t see on the hi-way and not for the hip hop parody of Vanilla Ice, FYI. Though, I must admit, that I haven’t seen a Vanilla Ice parody … most likely due to the fact that the real thing was comical enough) Now, if you’ve never hit a nasty patch of black ice, or even a moderately angry patch of black ice, or, I daresay, I somewhat congenial patch of black ice, I’ll just say it isn’t altogether pleasant…. Or even partly together pleasant, for that matter. I’ll not bore you with the details, but the result of said encounter with black ice was me on the shoulder of the road, looking at a demolished 1976 Pontiac Sunbird (It was a cool car taken from me far too early by the cruel fates) with a trail of destruction behind, including a completely severed and downed street light. All of which, for some reason, struck me as amazingly humorous. In fact, when I called back home to describe for the people there the predicament that I was in, I couldn’t keep from laughing. And I’ll tell you, no one else thought it was the least bit funny and were even, I recall, a little put out by my light heartedness. Go figure.
Uncertain Source laughter: Have you ever spoken with someone who would sort of chuckle after every thing they said? For example, when I was in HS there was this guy who, after every thing he said, would sort of ‘heh, heh’ me and do a weird chicken thing motion with his head and neck. Or maybe it can best be described as a half head bob or something. I found this behavior vastly amusing:
MJ: So, hey, head bobber, what is up? (no, I didn’t really call him that… We laugh at people BEHIND there backs in HS)
MJF: Hi. Heh, heh. (half a head bob chicken motion thingy)
MJ: So, I hear your parents died?
MJF: Yah, it was horrible. They were plucked to death by a flight of angry wild turkeys. Heh, heh. (three-quarter head bob chicken motion thingy)
(I think it’s important to note that the above conversation is completely and totally accurate, as far as I can recall)
While this may seem to be the INAPPROPRIATE laugher guy, it is fact a completely different deal. This guy laughs after every sentence… Like, you know, its punctuation or something, whereas the INAPPROPRIATE laugher just thinks, you know, inappropriate things are funny… The example above may have confused you somewhat.
Uncontrollable Laugher: I sit next to a prime example of this laugher category. Today I overheard the following conversation:
Players:
MG : Manager Guy
CG : Contractor Girl
Conversation:
MG: Nice day out today isn’t it?
CG: Yes, it is. (slight chuckle)
MG: Too bad we can’t be out enjoying it.
CG: Yes, I wore my jeans today, sorry, couldn’t help it. (chuckle)
MG: Yeah, I’m not worried about it.
CG: (Giggle) Yeah, I used to work from home and (guffaw) just work in my pajamas (ha ha ha) but then I got this job (SNORT, snicker)
MG: (Uncomfortable chuckle)
CG: (short burst of loud laughing) I didn’t even want to do ASP (HAHHHAHAHGHAHHHHAH-GAHH GAHH HAH) but it was just going to be for a short period (LAHHHHH HAHHHH AHHHHHH AHHA ARGGHAAHHAHHA).
MG: Little did you know….
CG: (GAAAAAHHHRRRRGLE CAAAACKLE GUFFFAWWW) I had to go (deep breath) (YOOOOOODLE YARRRRGLE CACKLIDIDITY DOO) and buy a new wardrobe (AHHHHHAAAHAHAHHAAHAHAAA).
MG: Uh… (nervous chuckle)
CG: (deep shuddering breath) But, I like it here (small chuckle).
I am dead serious. That is exactly what I heard. Now, this kind of thing usually irritates me to no end, but I discovered that if you don’t really care what the UNCONTROLLABLE laugher is saying, you can really be amused by this sort of thing. I mean, none of what was said was the least bit amusing - even by Chris Rock standards – but this type of laugher has no control over their mirth, as I witness first hand on a nearly daily basis. Can you imagine what it would be like to think that every little thing you say is side splittingly hilarious? I mean, GW doesn’t really count since, you know, I don’t think he knows why people are laughing.
Those are all well and good for, you know, “Mary” and company, but here are the laughs that make me chuckle (yes, you may notice that this word is in the above list, but only because I added it after first writing it here. So, you know… there ya have it):
Inappropriate laughter: On the ‘Simpsons’ the doctor character is a perfect example of this type. I.e., ‘Yes, you have inoperable brain cancer. (hee hee heh)’ I’ve done this before myself. One of the colleges I went too was about 80 miles from my home, consequently, I would drive back home from school fairly often. On one such occasion, as I was driving back to the college, I hit a fairly nasty batch of black ice. (‘black ice’ is the term for ice that you can’t see on the hi-way and not for the hip hop parody of Vanilla Ice, FYI. Though, I must admit, that I haven’t seen a Vanilla Ice parody … most likely due to the fact that the real thing was comical enough) Now, if you’ve never hit a nasty patch of black ice, or even a moderately angry patch of black ice, or, I daresay, I somewhat congenial patch of black ice, I’ll just say it isn’t altogether pleasant…. Or even partly together pleasant, for that matter. I’ll not bore you with the details, but the result of said encounter with black ice was me on the shoulder of the road, looking at a demolished 1976 Pontiac Sunbird (It was a cool car taken from me far too early by the cruel fates) with a trail of destruction behind, including a completely severed and downed street light. All of which, for some reason, struck me as amazingly humorous. In fact, when I called back home to describe for the people there the predicament that I was in, I couldn’t keep from laughing. And I’ll tell you, no one else thought it was the least bit funny and were even, I recall, a little put out by my light heartedness. Go figure.
Uncertain Source laughter: Have you ever spoken with someone who would sort of chuckle after every thing they said? For example, when I was in HS there was this guy who, after every thing he said, would sort of ‘heh, heh’ me and do a weird chicken thing motion with his head and neck. Or maybe it can best be described as a half head bob or something. I found this behavior vastly amusing:
MJ: So, hey, head bobber, what is up? (no, I didn’t really call him that… We laugh at people BEHIND there backs in HS)
MJF: Hi. Heh, heh. (half a head bob chicken motion thingy)
MJ: So, I hear your parents died?
MJF: Yah, it was horrible. They were plucked to death by a flight of angry wild turkeys. Heh, heh. (three-quarter head bob chicken motion thingy)
(I think it’s important to note that the above conversation is completely and totally accurate, as far as I can recall)
While this may seem to be the INAPPROPRIATE laugher guy, it is fact a completely different deal. This guy laughs after every sentence… Like, you know, its punctuation or something, whereas the INAPPROPRIATE laugher just thinks, you know, inappropriate things are funny… The example above may have confused you somewhat.
Uncontrollable Laugher: I sit next to a prime example of this laugher category. Today I overheard the following conversation:
Players:
MG : Manager Guy
CG : Contractor Girl
Conversation:
MG: Nice day out today isn’t it?
CG: Yes, it is. (slight chuckle)
MG: Too bad we can’t be out enjoying it.
CG: Yes, I wore my jeans today, sorry, couldn’t help it. (chuckle)
MG: Yeah, I’m not worried about it.
CG: (Giggle) Yeah, I used to work from home and (guffaw) just work in my pajamas (ha ha ha) but then I got this job (SNORT, snicker)
MG: (Uncomfortable chuckle)
CG: (short burst of loud laughing) I didn’t even want to do ASP (HAHHHAHAHGHAHHHHAH-GAHH GAHH HAH) but it was just going to be for a short period (LAHHHHH HAHHHH AHHHHHH AHHA ARGGHAAHHAHHA).
MG: Little did you know….
CG: (GAAAAAHHHRRRRGLE CAAAACKLE GUFFFAWWW) I had to go (deep breath) (YOOOOOODLE YARRRRGLE CACKLIDIDITY DOO) and buy a new wardrobe (AHHHHHAAAHAHAHHAAHAHAAA).
MG: Uh… (nervous chuckle)
CG: (deep shuddering breath) But, I like it here (small chuckle).
I am dead serious. That is exactly what I heard. Now, this kind of thing usually irritates me to no end, but I discovered that if you don’t really care what the UNCONTROLLABLE laugher is saying, you can really be amused by this sort of thing. I mean, none of what was said was the least bit amusing - even by Chris Rock standards – but this type of laugher has no control over their mirth, as I witness first hand on a nearly daily basis. Can you imagine what it would be like to think that every little thing you say is side splittingly hilarious? I mean, GW doesn’t really count since, you know, I don’t think he knows why people are laughing.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Dead bodies? What dead bodies?
So I was talking on the phone the other day at work... Well, here is a quick replay.
The players:
MJ = MJ
MJF = MJ's friend
The conversation :
MJF: 'So, would you be interested in seeing that Body Works?'
MJ: 'Huh?' (thinking: 'Does she want me to go to a boutique?')
MJF: 'Yeah, Body Works.. that thing at the museum w-'
MJ: (interrupting) 'Oh, the dead body art thing? Yes, I'd go see that.' (relieved that the boutique thing was a mis-enterpretation)
MJF: 'Yes, at the Museum of Natural History. It sounds interesting...'
(At this point, I'm distracted by an email so I'm not quite sure what was said.. but when it was silent on the phone, I knew it was my turn to talk again)
MJ: 'Um, yeah, I'd take my girls to see that(guessing at what was said). They love the museum.'
MJF: 'Well, it might be kind of intense for them, don't you think? (sounding confused by what must have been a sudden topic change)'
MJ: 'Why? (perplexed noises included) Its just dead bodies?'
MJF: 'Yeah, dead bodies. Dead bodies posed in various forms. No skin, you know.'
MJ: 'So, you think that'd be too much, eh?'
MJF: 'Maybe not for the oldest. I dunno. What I really want to know, is how they get the bodies.'
(I have since discovered the answer to that, so don't bother telling me)
MJ: 'Oh, I guess, like, organ donors or something.'
MJF: 'Yeah, probably some bone, er, dono....(fumbling)'
MJ: 'Did you just say boner donors?'
MJF: (laughing sounds)
MJ: 'I'm pretty sure boner donors are part of an entirely different exibit.'
MJF: (sounds continue, I believe I heard a slight choking noise)
MJ: 'I myself am a boner donor, so to speak. You think there is a place I could go and sign up, or what?'
MJF : (laughing extremely hard, not able to speak)
MJ: 'Did you just snort? I love it when people snort when they laugh. That was a good one. Nice and wet.'
MJF: (laughing) 'Please stop, I'm at work.. People ... are staring (between breaths)'
MJ: 'Hey, listen, yer the one that brought up the boner donor thing.. See a lot of art with boner donors, do ya, sister?'
MJF:'I have to go!! (laughing)' - click -
- - BTW, its BODY WORLD.
The players:
MJ = MJ
MJF = MJ's friend
The conversation :
MJF: 'So, would you be interested in seeing that Body Works?'
MJ: 'Huh?' (thinking: 'Does she want me to go to a boutique?')
MJF: 'Yeah, Body Works.. that thing at the museum w-'
MJ: (interrupting) 'Oh, the dead body art thing? Yes, I'd go see that.' (relieved that the boutique thing was a mis-enterpretation)
MJF: 'Yes, at the Museum of Natural History. It sounds interesting...'
(At this point, I'm distracted by an email so I'm not quite sure what was said.. but when it was silent on the phone, I knew it was my turn to talk again)
MJ: 'Um, yeah, I'd take my girls to see that(guessing at what was said). They love the museum.'
MJF: 'Well, it might be kind of intense for them, don't you think? (sounding confused by what must have been a sudden topic change)'
MJ: 'Why? (perplexed noises included) Its just dead bodies?'
MJF: 'Yeah, dead bodies. Dead bodies posed in various forms. No skin, you know.'
MJ: 'So, you think that'd be too much, eh?'
MJF: 'Maybe not for the oldest. I dunno. What I really want to know, is how they get the bodies.'
(I have since discovered the answer to that, so don't bother telling me)
MJ: 'Oh, I guess, like, organ donors or something.'
MJF: 'Yeah, probably some bone, er, dono....(fumbling)'
MJ: 'Did you just say boner donors?'
MJF: (laughing sounds)
MJ: 'I'm pretty sure boner donors are part of an entirely different exibit.'
MJF: (sounds continue, I believe I heard a slight choking noise)
MJ: 'I myself am a boner donor, so to speak. You think there is a place I could go and sign up, or what?'
MJF : (laughing extremely hard, not able to speak)
MJ: 'Did you just snort? I love it when people snort when they laugh. That was a good one. Nice and wet.'
MJF: (laughing) 'Please stop, I'm at work.. People ... are staring (between breaths)'
MJ: 'Hey, listen, yer the one that brought up the boner donor thing.. See a lot of art with boner donors, do ya, sister?'
MJF:'I have to go!! (laughing)' - click -
- - BTW, its BODY WORLD.
Attitude; Half Baked Cont...
So, I was saying that I'm a firm believer in attitudes as a major influence on a person's life. I'm pretty sure that was within the last day or so... Yah, well, if not, lets pretend that you know to what I'm referring.
Positivity
The whole positive energy attracts positive energy, isn't scientific so much as anectdotal, however, its been my experience that positive people are generally healthier and definetly more pleasant to be around than the opposite...
Now, I'm bored with this topic.... blah blah.
Positivity
The whole positive energy attracts positive energy, isn't scientific so much as anectdotal, however, its been my experience that positive people are generally healthier and definetly more pleasant to be around than the opposite...
Now, I'm bored with this topic.... blah blah.
Funny things I'm too brainwashed to attempt
You know, living in a 'civilized' society does have its down side.
For example, you really cannot do the following no matter how badly you'd like :
1) Its never appropriate to scratch a complete strangers back in a grocery store (or really any place), regardless of the contortions they are making to reach an out-of-the-way itch... Or is it?
2) Its rarely looked upon as polite to run up and 'jiggle' a big person, regardless of the 'bowl full of jelly' resemblance.
3) When dining in a fine establishment (or any establishment, really) those who ask for samples from neighboring tables are looked upon poorly, regardless of how appetizing the may desserts appear.
4) Not a good idea to offer you hand when meeting people you don't know at a urinal; and pointing and chuckling, while subtly humorous, tends to engender a negative reaction.
5) Striking heroic poses in check-out lanes (i.e. arms akimbo, chest thrust out majestically, one eye brow raised impressively, staring as if peering into a grand horizon, that sort of thing) tends to frighten more than amuse.
I've been tempted on quite a few occasions to do all of the above, but have never gone that last step... I will, tho, its just a matter of time....
For example, you really cannot do the following no matter how badly you'd like :
1) Its never appropriate to scratch a complete strangers back in a grocery store (or really any place), regardless of the contortions they are making to reach an out-of-the-way itch... Or is it?
2) Its rarely looked upon as polite to run up and 'jiggle' a big person, regardless of the 'bowl full of jelly' resemblance.
3) When dining in a fine establishment (or any establishment, really) those who ask for samples from neighboring tables are looked upon poorly, regardless of how appetizing the may desserts appear.
4) Not a good idea to offer you hand when meeting people you don't know at a urinal; and pointing and chuckling, while subtly humorous, tends to engender a negative reaction.
5) Striking heroic poses in check-out lanes (i.e. arms akimbo, chest thrust out majestically, one eye brow raised impressively, staring as if peering into a grand horizon, that sort of thing) tends to frighten more than amuse.
I've been tempted on quite a few occasions to do all of the above, but have never gone that last step... I will, tho, its just a matter of time....
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
But, please, don't tap on the glass
So this guy David Blaine wants to live in an aquarium and then break the world record for breath holding. Somewhere in NY so I'm hoping Melissa will run down there and, you know, over feed him and see if he floats belly up like a gold fish.
Apparantly this guy is a magician and has accomplished such feats as living in an ice cube and balancing. Yes, balancing. Maybe you had to be there.
Am I the only one who is underwhelmed?
This reminds me of the time that a hot blond striped her body like a leapord and sat in a cage on the 16th Street mall in Denver a few years ago. Course, since she was hot and naked, she was vastly more enteresting.
Top Five Illusions David Blaine Should Perform
1) Turn himself into a WMD - Course, we'd have to witness the contortions of the Pres. patting himself on the back while screaming "I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!" while at the same time trying to fabricate a story explaining how its in the Garden Center and not in Bagdad.
2) Stay in a room with Reese Witherspoon for ten days without pointing and screaming 'ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD!' (On a side note, my friend JM says that she is his top celebrity 'shag you very much.' I was and remain, bewildered)
3) Make half of Kirstie Alley dissapear... Don't worry, there'd still be plenty left over.
4) Convince an audience walking out of a Colin Farrell film that it was in fact Will Ferrell as the star.
5) Dissapear.
Apparantly this guy is a magician and has accomplished such feats as living in an ice cube and balancing. Yes, balancing. Maybe you had to be there.
Am I the only one who is underwhelmed?
This reminds me of the time that a hot blond striped her body like a leapord and sat in a cage on the 16th Street mall in Denver a few years ago. Course, since she was hot and naked, she was vastly more enteresting.
Top Five Illusions David Blaine Should Perform
1) Turn himself into a WMD - Course, we'd have to witness the contortions of the Pres. patting himself on the back while screaming "I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!" while at the same time trying to fabricate a story explaining how its in the Garden Center and not in Bagdad.
2) Stay in a room with Reese Witherspoon for ten days without pointing and screaming 'ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD! ALIEN HEAD!' (On a side note, my friend JM says that she is his top celebrity 'shag you very much.' I was and remain, bewildered)
3) Make half of Kirstie Alley dissapear... Don't worry, there'd still be plenty left over.
4) Convince an audience walking out of a Colin Farrell film that it was in fact Will Ferrell as the star.
5) Dissapear.
Speaking of ...
As a kid reading comics, I had some issues with how some of the super heroes hid who they really were. I mean, can you really not tell Clark Kent is Superman wearing glasses? Really? You can't? C'mon!
Top Four 'See Thru' Alter Egos
1) Clark Kent - Ok, so Superman hides his identity behind a pair (but, not a pear, which would be more interesting) of spectacles and no one can figure out why when the shiznit hits and he's saving, like, the planet and stuff, mild mannered Clark is never around. Nice reporting, pal.
2) Britt Reid - Ok, Britt has an Asian valet that goes with him everywhere. The Green Hornet has a martial arts master always saving his bacon. Hmm, yet, no one can put two and two together? Brother.
3) Diana Prince - Yes, lets hide a six foot amazon behind a really large pair of glasses. Hey, it works for Supes! Oh, this is Wonder Woman for the uninitiated.
4) Robert Bruce Banner - Yeah, a little hard to keep your identity a secret if you're gonna smash entire cities because the guy driving in front of you cut you off (Hulk).
On the flip side, there were these guys who had water tight alibi's.
Top Five Best Hidden Heroes
1) Matt Murdoc - Blind attorney is really Dare Devil, the Man without Fear
2) Dr. Donald Blake - Donald is a little 160 lb guy with a bum leg and a walking stick, but when trouble arises a tap of that stick and now he's a 6'5 250 lb Norse God of Thunder (Thor).
3) Peter Parker - The wall crawler Spiderman is a kid in HS? Whoa.
4) tie Bruce Wayne / Tony Stark - Both rich playboys by day and crime fighting dynamos by night... or maybe they are playboys at night? Batman and Iron Man, respectively
Top Four 'See Thru' Alter Egos
1) Clark Kent - Ok, so Superman hides his identity behind a pair (but, not a pear, which would be more interesting) of spectacles and no one can figure out why when the shiznit hits and he's saving, like, the planet and stuff, mild mannered Clark is never around. Nice reporting, pal.
2) Britt Reid - Ok, Britt has an Asian valet that goes with him everywhere. The Green Hornet has a martial arts master always saving his bacon. Hmm, yet, no one can put two and two together? Brother.
3) Diana Prince - Yes, lets hide a six foot amazon behind a really large pair of glasses. Hey, it works for Supes! Oh, this is Wonder Woman for the uninitiated.
4) Robert Bruce Banner - Yeah, a little hard to keep your identity a secret if you're gonna smash entire cities because the guy driving in front of you cut you off (Hulk).
On the flip side, there were these guys who had water tight alibi's.
Top Five Best Hidden Heroes
1) Matt Murdoc - Blind attorney is really Dare Devil, the Man without Fear
2) Dr. Donald Blake - Donald is a little 160 lb guy with a bum leg and a walking stick, but when trouble arises a tap of that stick and now he's a 6'5 250 lb Norse God of Thunder (Thor).
3) Peter Parker - The wall crawler Spiderman is a kid in HS? Whoa.
4) tie Bruce Wayne / Tony Stark - Both rich playboys by day and crime fighting dynamos by night... or maybe they are playboys at night? Batman and Iron Man, respectively
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Yeah, you're pretty quiet.
I've never been accused of exuberance, excessive emotional displays, manic behavior, nor illogical or irrational conduct. But of course, there are obvious exceptions (BOCTAOE).
For example:
1) I was quite maniacally violent, but not violet, when I played football.
2) I was stunned and amazed when my children were born.
3) I was devastated when my big brother died.
4) I was thoroughly disgusted with the people who looked to profit from his death.
5) I was dismayed, astonished, crushed and unmade when my best friend and luvah betrayed me.
However, generally speaking, I'm a reserved individual. I don't volunteer my opinion (for the most part), thoughts, or ideas (generally) unless asked and sometimes not even when asked, prodded, grilled, interrogated, queried, polled, interviewed, hit up, worked over, pried, pumped, petitioned, solicited, challenged, quizzed, or questioned.
People ask me all the time, 'Why are you so quiet? Why do you make it so hard to figure you out? Why are you such a mystery? What is so hard about sharing? What gives? What is wrong with you? What the heck are you thinking? What is that on your shirt!?! (Oh, that is from my smooth and tasty morning beverage) Will you tell me what is going on up in that head of yours?'
Well, I'll tell you. ... Well, I would if it were any of your business.
No, seriously... I'd tell you, but I'm practicing being secretive and mysterious so I have experience when I have to establish a secret identity for my super powered persona.
Ok, really, I'm letting you in.. here goes.. . . Oops, sorry, my phone is ringing.
For example:
1) I was quite maniacally violent, but not violet, when I played football.
2) I was stunned and amazed when my children were born.
3) I was devastated when my big brother died.
4) I was thoroughly disgusted with the people who looked to profit from his death.
5) I was dismayed, astonished, crushed and unmade when my best friend and luvah betrayed me.
However, generally speaking, I'm a reserved individual. I don't volunteer my opinion (for the most part), thoughts, or ideas (generally) unless asked and sometimes not even when asked, prodded, grilled, interrogated, queried, polled, interviewed, hit up, worked over, pried, pumped, petitioned, solicited, challenged, quizzed, or questioned.
People ask me all the time, 'Why are you so quiet? Why do you make it so hard to figure you out? Why are you such a mystery? What is so hard about sharing? What gives? What is wrong with you? What the heck are you thinking? What is that on your shirt!?! (Oh, that is from my smooth and tasty morning beverage) Will you tell me what is going on up in that head of yours?'
Well, I'll tell you. ... Well, I would if it were any of your business.
No, seriously... I'd tell you, but I'm practicing being secretive and mysterious so I have experience when I have to establish a secret identity for my super powered persona.
Ok, really, I'm letting you in.. here goes.. . . Oops, sorry, my phone is ringing.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Half baked theories, lunch and such...
Earlier I shared a story about eagles and a blog about free will and pleasure units (PU). I actually had some thoughts related to both of these, um, things, that I was going to share. However, since most of my thoughts on abstracts, like theories, never come to a logical conclusion - I find it difficult to make final judgments on nebulous or unprovable ideas, no matter how sequacious the argument - I thought I'd combine my thoughts on decisions and animal instincts with some other of my disjointed and/or incoherent views, as they relate to human behavior.
How we make decisions?
Self-interest theory
I've thought for the last decade or so that all people are selfish. That any act, regardless of intent, is rooted in self-interest. This is similar to Scott's theory that people make decisions based on the amount of PUs that result from the decision or lack thereof, PUs being a measurement, so to speak, of self-interest. I could state examples (or perceived examples) until you were blue in the face, but there is no way that this theory could be proven, so I do a lot of wheel spinning those times I ponder this possibility.
Animal Instinct
This is a derivative of the self-interest theory that basically says instincts drive most of our decisions. This is similar to those studies that suggest things like sex (etc) are what motivates certain segments of the species. People being rational (for the most part, ex's being the obvious exception) beings are constantly battling instincts that drive us toward actions that may not be entirely rationale. The instinct for procreation being the easiest example and the one most studies use... Or maybe its just those studies on sex that I find interesting enough to recall. .. . Regardless, its a theory that is problematic when moving toward axiom or law.
Free Will
The idea that there is no such thing as free will is fundamentally difficult to accept. Scott's idea that any action we take is not determined by ourselves but by some external influence not religious in nature is, or seems, counter intuitive. I'm not sure if he is debating 'free will' as defined in the dictionary or not, but I imagine he was only using that definition to further prove his point that it doesn't exist. Or maybe he's saying no action is created in a vacuum, meaning, without cause and/or effect. Anywho, here are a couple of my thoughts...
Multiverse
People lots smarter than me have argued that for every decision we make, there exists a universe were a different decision was made and our consciousness would have traveled thru to that universe if we had made that decision (that is a poor and rough paraphrase) or there are multiple identical universes with an MJ (for example) in each that made a different decision, however slight, at some point, and we are all ignorant of the others existence. This sort of thing is big for Sci-Fi writers and has been the basis of many a movie, book or episode of Star Trek. This idea is fun to think about, you know, when one has time to ponder the what if of our pasts.
Fate
I've heard of those that feel that our lives are scripted and nothing we do can change our fated paths. This is popular for people that need to make an excuse for a particular bad turn or as forshadow to a particularly desired outcome, i.e., 'If its fated I'll do/have/own/buy/eat/etc.' Naturally, this is on the opposite spectrum of the free will thinkers, but ironically, I hear it a lot from religious people. I.e., if God wills I'll do/have/own/buy/eat/etc . Now, I don't particularly disagree with these people for having faith, as spirituality is important. However, faith is based on free will, I'd think, and if God outlines and defines are future, doesn't that sort of negate the whole free will thing, ergo negating the need for faith? I suppose one could look at the statement 'If God wills I'll....' and say its faith. Its an interesting theory of mine that I ponder often, perhaps one day I'll reach a conclusion with which I'm comfortable.
Attitude
One of my ideas I'm most sure of but less sure how to communicate is attitude, or how a person's outlook and interaction with others affects his or her life. ... TBC
How we make decisions?
Self-interest theory
I've thought for the last decade or so that all people are selfish. That any act, regardless of intent, is rooted in self-interest. This is similar to Scott's theory that people make decisions based on the amount of PUs that result from the decision or lack thereof, PUs being a measurement, so to speak, of self-interest. I could state examples (or perceived examples) until you were blue in the face, but there is no way that this theory could be proven, so I do a lot of wheel spinning those times I ponder this possibility.
Animal Instinct
This is a derivative of the self-interest theory that basically says instincts drive most of our decisions. This is similar to those studies that suggest things like sex (etc) are what motivates certain segments of the species. People being rational (for the most part, ex's being the obvious exception) beings are constantly battling instincts that drive us toward actions that may not be entirely rationale. The instinct for procreation being the easiest example and the one most studies use... Or maybe its just those studies on sex that I find interesting enough to recall. .. . Regardless, its a theory that is problematic when moving toward axiom or law.
Free Will
The idea that there is no such thing as free will is fundamentally difficult to accept. Scott's idea that any action we take is not determined by ourselves but by some external influence not religious in nature is, or seems, counter intuitive. I'm not sure if he is debating 'free will' as defined in the dictionary or not, but I imagine he was only using that definition to further prove his point that it doesn't exist. Or maybe he's saying no action is created in a vacuum, meaning, without cause and/or effect. Anywho, here are a couple of my thoughts...
Multiverse
People lots smarter than me have argued that for every decision we make, there exists a universe were a different decision was made and our consciousness would have traveled thru to that universe if we had made that decision (that is a poor and rough paraphrase) or there are multiple identical universes with an MJ (for example) in each that made a different decision, however slight, at some point, and we are all ignorant of the others existence. This sort of thing is big for Sci-Fi writers and has been the basis of many a movie, book or episode of Star Trek. This idea is fun to think about, you know, when one has time to ponder the what if of our pasts.
Fate
I've heard of those that feel that our lives are scripted and nothing we do can change our fated paths. This is popular for people that need to make an excuse for a particular bad turn or as forshadow to a particularly desired outcome, i.e., 'If its fated I'll do/have/own/buy/eat/etc
Attitude
One of my ideas I'm most sure of but less sure how to communicate is attitude, or how a person's outlook and interaction with others affects his or her life. ... TBC
Todays riveting and hard hitting social commentary
That funny guy Scott Adams blogged the other day about decision making; basically theorizing that people make decisions based only on how many PU (Pleasure Units) they can receive; paraphrasing. He then talks about free will in a later blog, or the lack thereof, postulating that free will does not exist. His example being that science has determined "that people make decisions before the area of the brain responsible for rational thought even gets activated. In other words, you rationalize after the fact while remembering it as if you had made a conscious choice in advance of the action."
Now, I read this after I saw this story about a male bald eagle leaving his mate because another female bald eagle beat her up. Well, technically, he didn't leave the beat upon avian so much as she was taken away by the wildlife rescue people back to their shop for repairs. Then, female eagles being dominant, he was sort of bullied into the sack with the new, more powerful she-hulk eagle.
Now, other than the obvious thought of, how glad you may be that our social society doesn't work like that - I mean, can you imagine? Some super buff chick like China likes you (or your guy) and the next thing you know, you're (or your guy is) her new biznatch. Course, some people may think of that as not a bad deal - this story, along with Scott's hypothesis has me contemplating.....
What should I have for lunch tomorrow?
Friday, April 07, 2006
Things to do in Sun City West
In an attempt to wrap up my fully factual and completely accurate accounting of my long weekend in Sun City west, I will now list observations, commentary and itineraries of said trip:
1) The orange trees in Sun City West fall into three broad categories: 'Juicer', 'Eater' and 'Decorative.' While you can eat a 'Juicer' and juice a 'Eater' its generally considered a bad idea to eat or juice a 'Decorative.'
2) Cocktail hour is actually Cocktail 4 0r 5 hour.
3) These people are rollin. Um, no, not on X. I meant as the euphemism for lots of discretionary income.
4) I saw more after market rims then on a rap video marathon. Which is hysterical to me considering 99% of the people are white.
5) Birthday parties for dogs may seem odd to me, but they are perfectly acceptable forms of entertainment.
6) Breakfast on the patio with freshly picked grapefruit, freshly squeezed orange juice (from freshly picked 'Juicer' oranges), a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, an English muffin with homemade raspberry jam immersed in the sent of spring blossoms is what I call living in the lap of luxury.
7) Golf courses. Lots of Golf courses.
8) My aunt has this little black Schipperke that goes by the misnomer of "Bear." Like most small dogs, it likes the sound of its own voice, which isn't surprising. What is surprising is that the dog also likes money and shoes (yes, its a female. Of course). She will actually go into an open purse looking for cash, I can only assume, so as to buy more shoes.
9) Quick Story: About a week and a half prior to my visit, my aunt had her car stolen. Here's how: She took it to have it serviced at the local Chrysler dealer ( I know. I know. She drives a bloody Chrysler. Its hard for me to take also). She drove up. Let the service guy know she was there. Had him listen to the engine for the elusive noise - that mysteriously disappears when someone is actually listening specifically for it - and then left it in the capable hands of the service people. Two days later she gets a call saying someone drove off with her car. Well, I don't know about you, but that isn't what I expect when I get my car serviced. Anyway, Sunday morning we are enjoying breakfast (see lap of luxury above) and the police call. They found the car. They were investigating a 'disturbance' and the car was on the property (apparently, they run VIN numbers on car at a disturbance just in case. Who knew). They told her she had thirty minutes to drive down to the disturbance and get the car. Can I just say, there are parts of Phoenix that are, um, less than savory? So, blah blah blah, cars back, not in the best of shape, but not as bad as it could have been. We had it towed back to the Chrysler dealer (I was surprised it was open as in CO, dealers can't sell cars on Sunday. I know, its ridiculous) and the GM said that he would make it as good as new and then they could decide to sell it or keep it, with the promise if they chose to get a new car, he'd cut them a great deal. We left that place and headed up the street to the Lexus dealer to scope out the phat rides. Heck, if you're gonna get a new car, I argued, get a real one.
10) You think they don't have pigeons in Sun City West? Think again. The bastiches.
1) The orange trees in Sun City West fall into three broad categories: 'Juicer', 'Eater' and 'Decorative.' While you can eat a 'Juicer' and juice a 'Eater' its generally considered a bad idea to eat or juice a 'Decorative.'
2) Cocktail hour is actually Cocktail 4 0r 5 hour.
3) These people are rollin. Um, no, not on X. I meant as the euphemism for lots of discretionary income.
4) I saw more after market rims then on a rap video marathon. Which is hysterical to me considering 99% of the people are white.
5) Birthday parties for dogs may seem odd to me, but they are perfectly acceptable forms of entertainment.
6) Breakfast on the patio with freshly picked grapefruit, freshly squeezed orange juice (from freshly picked 'Juicer' oranges), a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, an English muffin with homemade raspberry jam immersed in the sent of spring blossoms is what I call living in the lap of luxury.
7) Golf courses. Lots of Golf courses.
8) My aunt has this little black Schipperke that goes by the misnomer of "Bear." Like most small dogs, it likes the sound of its own voice, which isn't surprising. What is surprising is that the dog also likes money and shoes (yes, its a female. Of course). She will actually go into an open purse looking for cash, I can only assume, so as to buy more shoes.
9) Quick Story: About a week and a half prior to my visit, my aunt had her car stolen. Here's how: She took it to have it serviced at the local Chrysler dealer ( I know. I know. She drives a bloody Chrysler. Its hard for me to take also). She drove up. Let the service guy know she was there. Had him listen to the engine for the elusive noise - that mysteriously disappears when someone is actually listening specifically for it - and then left it in the capable hands of the service people. Two days later she gets a call saying someone drove off with her car. Well, I don't know about you, but that isn't what I expect when I get my car serviced. Anyway, Sunday morning we are enjoying breakfast (see lap of luxury above) and the police call. They found the car. They were investigating a 'disturbance' and the car was on the property (apparently, they run VIN numbers on car at a disturbance just in case. Who knew). They told her she had thirty minutes to drive down to the disturbance and get the car. Can I just say, there are parts of Phoenix that are, um, less than savory? So, blah blah blah, cars back, not in the best of shape, but not as bad as it could have been. We had it towed back to the Chrysler dealer (I was surprised it was open as in CO, dealers can't sell cars on Sunday. I know, its ridiculous) and the GM said that he would make it as good as new and then they could decide to sell it or keep it, with the promise if they chose to get a new car, he'd cut them a great deal. We left that place and headed up the street to the Lexus dealer to scope out the phat rides. Heck, if you're gonna get a new car, I argued, get a real one.
10) You think they don't have pigeons in Sun City West? Think again. The bastiches.
Doctor Who
Oh, I'd say around the early late later early mid to late early late middle earlier early late seventies I watched this English science fiction show called Doctor Who. The good Dr. was a bit of a time traveler, now wudn't ee? And he, and most everyone else, including the aliens, all talked with an English accent. Much like the people in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (the serial, not the movie).
So, anywho, Dr Who, who wasn't played by you know who, but rather who knows who, or better several who knows who's, but not several you know whose.... ya dig?
As I was saying, the seventies were a magical time ... oh, wait, that isn't what I was saying at all...
Doctor Who, a BBC, production, I imagine (hey, listen, you know what, if you want actual facts, you know, ... read or something), was this character who traveled thru time and space in a British Police Box. He had one of those Sony electronic dogs (you know, before you could buy them at Radio Shack) and I believe its name was K9.. Or maybe that was its serial number (again, facts are for, you know, readers and stuff), I was, what, 7 or something? How can you expect me to recall that? So, as I was saying, the really interesting thing about the Doctor was that after being on the show for awhile, if, say, Tom Baker, got tired of being the Doctor, he could quit (aka die) and some new actor would jump in (aka be reborn in a different guise). This was explained away as a particular annoying ability granted the good Doctor by.... Sheesh, again, I don't know, but it was interesting... and annoying, because I really liked Tom Baker as the good Doctor!
Doc would fight these really cheesy giant old fashioned microphone shaped robots, Cybermen, Time Lords and cancellation, and triumph every time. Not only that, but I can perfectly recall the theme music, which is impressive for me. Oh, and his Police Box was called Tarterus, which, if I recall my ancient literature, was the Greek pigeon infested doom that dead villains where relegated. .... Can't be sure on that, tho... Sounds right.
I heard today that this show is still on! How cool is that (trust me, its way cool)? I suppose I should find it on the telly.....
So, anywho, Dr Who, who wasn't played by you know who, but rather who knows who, or better several who knows who's, but not several you know whose.... ya dig?
As I was saying, the seventies were a magical time ... oh, wait, that isn't what I was saying at all...
Doctor Who, a BBC, production, I imagine (hey, listen, you know what, if you want actual facts, you know, ... read or something), was this character who traveled thru time and space in a British Police Box. He had one of those Sony electronic dogs (you know, before you could buy them at Radio Shack) and I believe its name was K9.. Or maybe that was its serial number (again, facts are for, you know, readers and stuff), I was, what, 7 or something? How can you expect me to recall that? So, as I was saying, the really interesting thing about the Doctor was that after being on the show for awhile, if, say, Tom Baker, got tired of being the Doctor, he could quit (aka die) and some new actor would jump in (aka be reborn in a different guise). This was explained away as a particular annoying ability granted the good Doctor by.... Sheesh, again, I don't know, but it was interesting... and annoying, because I really liked Tom Baker as the good Doctor!
Doc would fight these really cheesy giant old fashioned microphone shaped robots, Cybermen, Time Lords and cancellation, and triumph every time. Not only that, but I can perfectly recall the theme music, which is impressive for me. Oh, and his Police Box was called Tarterus, which, if I recall my ancient literature, was the Greek pigeon infested doom that dead villains where relegated. .... Can't be sure on that, tho... Sounds right.
I heard today that this show is still on! How cool is that (trust me, its way cool)? I suppose I should find it on the telly.....
What about my anus?
New Red, Blue Rings Found Around Uranus
Listen, I'm not sure how they find these things out before I do.. Maybe its because I don't have the proper equipment...
Listen, I'm not sure how they find these things out before I do.. Maybe its because I don't have the proper equipment...
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Later, at the ...
Ok, before I continue my fully factual and completely accurate accounting of my long weekend, I must first confess that I know that I spelled Pomeranian (sp) wrong just now as well as yesterday. Now, normally, I'm a bit of a stickler when it comes to speling, hoever, somtimes things jus don't work out the weigh you would like so ewe'll have to excus the ocasional mispelled word, now won't you?
So, where was I.... Yes, now its coming back... (Key flashback music. Key flashback effects, and in 3... 2... )
Now, I'm ready for my relaxing weekend. If you've never seen a Dodge Stratus, (AKA Stratta. Shaddup) its not a bad looking car as midsize cars go, so I wasn't completely let down. No, the let down is from realizing that a Skipperkee has more horse power than this fine piece of Chrysler engineering.
So, as I scoot down I-10, wondering if I would have more power if I peddled like the bloody Flintstones, several things occur to me:
1) The weather is extremely nice.
2) Wearing a jacket in CO this time of year is smart, wearing one if AZ is just asking for trouble.
3) The idiots that enjoy driving the interstates in Denver have all come down to enjoy the sunshine right along with me on the Phoenix interstates.
4) Driving across town in Phoenix is similar in scope to driving across Texas. The state. Seriously, could this place BE any further spread out?
5) I've been in the car less than 20 minutes and I've already heard the same song 27 thousand times on the radio.
6) Every time I come to Phoenix, they are widening the hiways. I don't know for sure, but I imagine in a few more years their won't be any place for people to live due to the 60 mile wide roads.
From I-10, I head north on the 101 loop. After several minutes on the 101, I notice a huge structure off to my right. It looks sort of like those huge water processing stations from that 80s tv saga, V. Its humongous. It dawns on me while I'm gaping at it, that this is a football stadium. The people in Phoenix are getting a new dome. For the Cardinals?? Are you kidding me? The flipping Arizona Cardinals are getting a domed stadium? And not just any stadium, this thing is magnificent! Its unbelievable! I found out later that its the site of the SB in 2008. Sheesh. Hope the Cardinals win a game or two up until then.
I take the Grand Avenue exit off the 101 and head NW. This street will get me to Sun City West. Eventually. I mean, Phoenix is unbelievable. You can't get anywhere in this town without packing a days worth of meals to avoid the risk of starvation. Anyhow, I eventually get into Sun City West. For those who have yet to experience Sun City West, let me list some observations:
1) Sun City West is in fact not the west side of Sun City. Sun City is a separate city with no relation to Sun City West other than the same developer got mad bills for building them.
2) The sign that says Surprise! isn't really offering you anything exciting... Its just telling you that there is in fact a city called Surprise.
3) The golf carts you see motoring around and in between the cars on the streets are perfectly legal. In fact, that is how most of the citizens get around. In fact, most houses here have a golf cart sized garage attached to their regularly sized garage.
4) The place is immaculate. Impeccable. The trees are groomed, the yards are manicured, the scenery is pristene, the scent of spring blossoms permeates everything; really, its quite impressive.
5) This guy from Wisconsin is going to hit me with his bloody 40 foot Lincoln and not even feel a bump.
6) The senior citizens in this town are rolling in Escalades with 22 inch chrome wheels straight out of your favorite hip hop video - you know, when not puttering in the customized golf carts.
So, I finally make it to the Aunts. Lets see, from the time I got up at 4:30AM MT to the time I make it to the door, its only been 6 hours.... Not bad for seeming like a lifetime.... TBC
So, where was I.... Yes, now its coming back... (Key flashback music. Key flashback effects, and in 3... 2... )
Now, I'm ready for my relaxing weekend. If you've never seen a Dodge Stratus, (AKA Stratta. Shaddup) its not a bad looking car as midsize cars go, so I wasn't completely let down. No, the let down is from realizing that a Skipperkee has more horse power than this fine piece of Chrysler engineering.
So, as I scoot down I-10, wondering if I would have more power if I peddled like the bloody Flintstones, several things occur to me:
1) The weather is extremely nice.
2) Wearing a jacket in CO this time of year is smart, wearing one if AZ is just asking for trouble.
3) The idiots that enjoy driving the interstates in Denver have all come down to enjoy the sunshine right along with me on the Phoenix interstates.
4) Driving across town in Phoenix is similar in scope to driving across Texas. The state. Seriously, could this place BE any further spread out?
5) I've been in the car less than 20 minutes and I've already heard the same song 27 thousand times on the radio.
6) Every time I come to Phoenix, they are widening the hiways. I don't know for sure, but I imagine in a few more years their won't be any place for people to live due to the 60 mile wide roads.
From I-10, I head north on the 101 loop. After several minutes on the 101, I notice a huge structure off to my right. It looks sort of like those huge water processing stations from that 80s tv saga, V. Its humongous. It dawns on me while I'm gaping at it, that this is a football stadium. The people in Phoenix are getting a new dome. For the Cardinals?? Are you kidding me? The flipping Arizona Cardinals are getting a domed stadium? And not just any stadium, this thing is magnificent! Its unbelievable! I found out later that its the site of the SB in 2008. Sheesh. Hope the Cardinals win a game or two up until then.
I take the Grand Avenue exit off the 101 and head NW. This street will get me to Sun City West. Eventually. I mean, Phoenix is unbelievable. You can't get anywhere in this town without packing a days worth of meals to avoid the risk of starvation. Anyhow, I eventually get into Sun City West. For those who have yet to experience Sun City West, let me list some observations:
1) Sun City West is in fact not the west side of Sun City. Sun City is a separate city with no relation to Sun City West other than the same developer got mad bills for building them.
2) The sign that says Surprise! isn't really offering you anything exciting... Its just telling you that there is in fact a city called Surprise.
3) The golf carts you see motoring around and in between the cars on the streets are perfectly legal. In fact, that is how most of the citizens get around. In fact, most houses here have a golf cart sized garage attached to their regularly sized garage.
4) The place is immaculate. Impeccable. The trees are groomed, the yards are manicured, the scenery is pristene, the scent of spring blossoms permeates everything; really, its quite impressive.
5) This guy from Wisconsin is going to hit me with his bloody 40 foot Lincoln and not even feel a bump.
6) The senior citizens in this town are rolling in Escalades with 22 inch chrome wheels straight out of your favorite hip hop video - you know, when not puttering in the customized golf carts.
So, I finally make it to the Aunts. Lets see, from the time I got up at 4:30AM MT to the time I make it to the door, its only been 6 hours.... Not bad for seeming like a lifetime.... TBC
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
My long weekend
So, I decided to go visit my aunt in Phoenix this past weekend. (She's the sister of my 'second' dad, not my pops. Pop's sister lives out east. I need to visit there soon as well) Its been a pretty hectic last few weeks and I thought a little R&R in the sun would be a welcome opportunity to recharge the ole batteries. So I told my aunt and her roommate that they didn't have to worry about entertaining me, I was just going to sit back and relax on their beautiful patio. They live in Sun City West, a retirement community a little north and a little west of Phoenix.
I left early Friday morning and arrived in AZ at about 9AM local time. ( I skipped thru the security at DIA with minimal mauling and groping, although, I think, the guy with the wand owes me a dinner) Sky Harbor is a fairly decent airport and since I travel way light, I had no problems getting my gear and getting out of the building (Do you remember a time when 'way' wasn't an acceptable adverb? I can only assume such a time exists but, really, that is, like, way too far in the past to think about).
Once outside I looked for the rental car bus (This is the bus that takes you to the place from which you rented your car; fyi). I quickly spotted the bus just as it was leaving the stop and, assuming another would be along forthwith, I ambled out to the spot it had just vacated and prepared to wait. Prepared for a short wait. Fully expecting a wait opposite of long. A wait, when compared to an exceptionally long wait, would be, you know, lacking in the requisite longness of the long wait; ergo hence and thereby thusly consequently-ly declared an anti-long wait; aka a short wait. You dig?
At any rate, and this may come as a complete surprise to you, my wait wasn't at all short. After waiting what must have been 2 or 3 days (later, I discovered that I had, in fact, only waited about 7 or 8 minutes. Apparently, I have to work on my patience. .. But not my patients, as I'm not a doctor and I'm sure any patients I work on would be quite put out when they discovered that, while I did attend school for seven years, it was more due to a lack of study then for the gain thereof) I walked toward the cabby stand to inquire when to expect the next rental bus. The cabby stand is where this airport person lurks and directs unsuspecting indiviuals to an insiduously awaiting taxi. When I arrived in the vicinity of the cabby stand and its nefarious occupant, I was asked if I needed a cab. After giving him my best 'what the heck are you talking about' look I calmy said, 'No, you bleeding idiot, can't you see I'm waiting for the bloody bus to take me to my blue blazing bloody bleeding rental?' Which, for you uneducated and unwashed masses, translates to 'Um, no thanks buddy. I'm just wondering if that rental car bus is ever coming back' in the greater metropolitan Phoenix area.
The cabby nodded sagely. The cabby looked over my shoulder (we were facing one another. In modern civilization the proper way to communicate is via arcane finger wagging, inarticulate shouting and frenzied fist waving, however, since I am taking a vacation, minimal as it may be, I decided that being civilized was asking too much, so we were instead, facing eachother and talking in a nonthreatening manner. I know, its bizzare, but try to restrain your amazement) and said, 'What, that bus?'. To which I turned and said, 'Yes, that one. The one that says 'RENTAL CAR SHUTTLE' in huge letters'. To which he responded, 'you can't ride those on this side, you have to go to the other side of the building. They only drop off on this side.'
Of course. I mean, its so obvious. Why would they pick up anyone on this side of the terminal. This side has all the tell tale signs of a drop off side. The buses, you know, driving by stopping occasionally, opening doors, closing doors. Driving off. I guess the fact that no one was getting off of the buses is what threw me. What was I thinking? I calmly replied to the nice cab pimp, 'What a fargin jagoff flipping blue faced farcical airport you have here, pal' to which he replied, with a fair sized smile, 'why thank you sir, you enjoy your trip.'
Well, I never! Can you imagine? Of all the things you could say to a traveler, that has got to be the single most obnoxious thing ever! So, I smiled in return and ambled back into the terminal and out the other side. And low, a shaft of dazzling light didst descend from the heavens and transfix me in its glare, which is probably why I tripped over that old lady's walker (There seems to be a surplus of older type humans in the greater metropolitan Phoenix area, so it really isn't quite out of the ordinary to stumble over them every once in a while) (Ok, I made that last bit up. The part about tripping over the walker, not the part about the excess old people. We all know I couldn't possibly trip, being a stud and all, but I did boot her tiny little parmaranian nearly across all four lanes of traffic. But that wasn't an accident) .
When I finally made it (I just wanted to touch back with you and let you know that , no, I didn't really fall over a lady's walker nor did I boot her stupid dog across half of Phoenix. You looked a little worried and I just wanted you to know that I was joking. Ha ha) to the proper bus stop, the driver immediately asked me how I was doing while reaching for my bag. (Ah, yes, luggage. Let me give you my quick philosophical treatsy upon luggage: Hate it. Avoid it whenever possible) You see, when flying now a days, you are allowed to bring upon the plane a hankerchief sized bag or briefcase or knapsack or pot of pigs feet. I myself, chose to forgo the pigs feet this trip and instead opted for the small bag. It may be a small bag, but its my bag and I was a little alarmed as to why my bag was the target of said bus driver's reach. So, I said, 'I'd be doing much better if I knew why you were reaching for my bag there, Ralphie boy.' (Ah, the Honeymooners. Can you believe what crap old people used to watch when they were our age?) This of course translated to 'Hello. How are you? Get the fargin flip nickle away from my bloody bag ya crazy bastiche' (Ok, that last part may have been lost in translation as my bag was whipped away from my clutching fingers and gently, almost reverently placed inside the bus on one of those handy luggage racks you see springing up on airport buses now a days. Not sure how that happens, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Did that once and horse breath isn't at all flattering)
Sensing that the strange fellow meant no harm, I followed my bag upon the bus, calmly tossing a 'thankyouverymuch' over my shoulder at the driver. (They sense fear, you know, so you have to stay calm in these situations) Once safely seated, I waited calmly (again, calm is the key here) as several hundred thousand other people with multiple billions and billions of assorted luggage where also neatly packed unto the now minivan seeming vehicle (Again, later, I learned that, no, I wasn't involved in some inner space diminisional shift and that, factually, there were only six people on the bus with no where close to even 30 peices of luggage. Wow. I must really have needed a break).
The RENTAL CAR SHUTTLE was soon on its journey to the mystical land of 'RENTAL CARs'; aka the Naturalized American Disneyland. It used to be that you could get your rental car right at the airport terminal. Of course those days have gone the way of the John Stamos and over the years, the rental cars have moved further and further away from the airport. So, after a quick shuttle ride to Las Vegas, I was ready to enjoy my Phoenix vacation.
Wait, I think I left a part out... Oh, yes, the rental car aquisition. When the bus finally made its way to the rental car center (The Phoenix rental car 'EXTRAVAGANZA' is a huge parking garage with all the major players: Hertz, Dollar, Enterprise, Hooptie Heaven, Avis, etc. Its like going into the terminal of the old Stapleton airport.... Except, ah, they have, you know, like, cars and not DC47s) after an exausting tour of several 'shantie' towns, I was able to safely de-bus - but only after racing the bus driver to my bag in a desperate attempt to not go thru the 'let me do that for you' dance of de-luggage racking my newspaper sized traveling tote - and make my way to the appropriate car rental establishment. Luckily, I was able to battle my way to second in line, consequently saving a day to a day and a half (depending on estimates) of my vacation time not having to be in line.
Once I was called to the counter (You are probably waiting for me to make some crack about the eternity it took for me to get to the counter, aren't you? For your information, not only was I able to read War and Peace but I was also able to successfully invent the perpetual motion machine and a safe and re-usable form of energy. Sadly, what happened next at the counter seemed to have shocked me so completely that the details of these accomplishments have been lost) I smugly handed over my credit card and drivers licence and said 'Yep, I got quite the deal on a car for this little get away, didn't I?' The strange and exotic looking gentleman on the other side of the counter simply smiled and said 'Why, I cannot say for certain my good man, but as soon as I am able to recall your information from our database here I am sure you will find everything to be thoroughly satisfactory' (I'm dead serious).
I nodded happily and waited whilst said exotic looking chap busily punched this button, pulled that lever, twisted that nob, cranked that, er, cranker thingy and blew that whistle (yes, I thought it was a bit much, but, you know, modern technology and all). Finally he said, 'Ah, Mr. Joe, or may I call you Monstrous?'
'Oh, call me MJ', I replied generously.
'Quite right, MJ, quite right. It seems you have the rate for our economy car, which is our smallest vehicle. Can I recommend that you upgrage, MJ?'
'Oh, what is this smallest car to which you speak?'
'Well, MJ, it is our economy class vehicle so it is rather small. Here, let me show you, I happen to have one here in my pocket. You see, it is one of the perks of working here; free rentals. So, you see, you basically stand upon it and by sheer will power alone you are able to convince other drivers that you need assistance and they will take you to your destination. I don't understand why, but most of our customers decide to upgrade'
'First off, no, I don't see. What is that, a matchbox car?'
'Oh, dear no sir! It is in fact our economy car. Several hundred thousand miles to the gallon.'
'Well, Exotic Looking Gentleman, I got a real deal when I reserved your, eh, grasshopper mobile there, eh?'
'Yes, of course, MJ, I see it right here. It appears we were paying you 14 dollars a day to drive this car. My, my, that is a good deal.'
'Yeah, that's what I said. I got a good deal.'
'Yes, of course, MJ, I see it right here. It appears we were paying you 14 dollars a day to drive this car. My, my, that is a good deal.'
(Blank look) 'Um, did you just say that?'
'Excuse me?'
'Hey, listen, don't be trying any of your Exotic Gentleman mojo on me fella, I'm a stud.'
'I'm sorry, did you just say 'I am a stud?''
'Hey, pal, I'm the stud, and don't change the subject. If I upgrade to, whatever is next in line, will I get this good price you seem to like spouting about?'
'Yes, of course, MJ. No, you will not get that deal, however, I can quote you a midsize for roughly a hundred thousand percent more than what we quoted you for the economy sized.'
'Ok, wait. Did you just contradict yourself?'
'Yes, of course, MJ. No, you will not get that deal, however, I can quote you a midsize for roughly three hundred million thousand gajillion percent more than what we quoted you for the economy sized.'
(blink)
(Exotic looking smile)
'Ok, man. First things first. You can call me Mr. Joe. Now, what is this midsize and what do you want me to pay?'
'Yes, of course, emm, er, Mr. Joe. Yes, our midsize is a nice Dodge Strata or Neon for only 5x what we quoted for the economy.'
'Ok, first off, I don't think you quite grasp the subtle intricacies of, you know, math and stuff. But, that aside, that price doesn't make for a very good deal anymore.'
'Yes, of course, Mr. Joe. Would you like our full size, which is a nice Dodge Strata or Neon for only 10x what we quoted for the economy.'
(double blink)
(Exotic smile)
'Listen pal, you have got to stay out of the sun. What you are saying is I could get a Strata for 5x as much or 10x as much?'
'Yes, you've gotten it, haven't you, sir!'
(deep sigh)
(Exotic smile)
'Listen. I'll take the 5x Stratta'
'Jolly good, sir! Well done!'
NOW, I'm ready for my nice relaxing weekend..... TBC
I left early Friday morning and arrived in AZ at about 9AM local time. ( I skipped thru the security at DIA with minimal mauling and groping, although, I think, the guy with the wand owes me a dinner) Sky Harbor is a fairly decent airport and since I travel way light, I had no problems getting my gear and getting out of the building (Do you remember a time when 'way' wasn't an acceptable adverb? I can only assume such a time exists but, really, that is, like, way too far in the past to think about).
Once outside I looked for the rental car bus (This is the bus that takes you to the place from which you rented your car; fyi). I quickly spotted the bus just as it was leaving the stop and, assuming another would be along forthwith, I ambled out to the spot it had just vacated and prepared to wait. Prepared for a short wait. Fully expecting a wait opposite of long. A wait, when compared to an exceptionally long wait, would be, you know, lacking in the requisite longness of the long wait; ergo hence and thereby thusly consequently-ly declared an anti-long wait; aka a short wait. You dig?
At any rate, and this may come as a complete surprise to you, my wait wasn't at all short. After waiting what must have been 2 or 3 days (later, I discovered that I had, in fact, only waited about 7 or 8 minutes. Apparently, I have to work on my patience. .. But not my patients, as I'm not a doctor and I'm sure any patients I work on would be quite put out when they discovered that, while I did attend school for seven years, it was more due to a lack of study then for the gain thereof) I walked toward the cabby stand to inquire when to expect the next rental bus. The cabby stand is where this airport person lurks and directs unsuspecting indiviuals to an insiduously awaiting taxi. When I arrived in the vicinity of the cabby stand and its nefarious occupant, I was asked if I needed a cab. After giving him my best 'what the heck are you talking about' look I calmy said, 'No, you bleeding idiot, can't you see I'm waiting for the bloody bus to take me to my blue blazing bloody bleeding rental?' Which, for you uneducated and unwashed masses, translates to 'Um, no thanks buddy. I'm just wondering if that rental car bus is ever coming back' in the greater metropolitan Phoenix area.
The cabby nodded sagely. The cabby looked over my shoulder (we were facing one another. In modern civilization the proper way to communicate is via arcane finger wagging, inarticulate shouting and frenzied fist waving, however, since I am taking a vacation, minimal as it may be, I decided that being civilized was asking too much, so we were instead, facing eachother and talking in a nonthreatening manner. I know, its bizzare, but try to restrain your amazement) and said, 'What, that bus?'. To which I turned and said, 'Yes, that one. The one that says 'RENTAL CAR SHUTTLE' in huge letters'. To which he responded, 'you can't ride those on this side, you have to go to the other side of the building. They only drop off on this side.'
Of course. I mean, its so obvious. Why would they pick up anyone on this side of the terminal. This side has all the tell tale signs of a drop off side. The buses, you know, driving by stopping occasionally, opening doors, closing doors. Driving off. I guess the fact that no one was getting off of the buses is what threw me. What was I thinking? I calmly replied to the nice cab pimp, 'What a fargin jagoff flipping blue faced farcical airport you have here, pal' to which he replied, with a fair sized smile, 'why thank you sir, you enjoy your trip.'
Well, I never! Can you imagine? Of all the things you could say to a traveler, that has got to be the single most obnoxious thing ever! So, I smiled in return and ambled back into the terminal and out the other side. And low, a shaft of dazzling light didst descend from the heavens and transfix me in its glare, which is probably why I tripped over that old lady's walker (There seems to be a surplus of older type humans in the greater metropolitan Phoenix area, so it really isn't quite out of the ordinary to stumble over them every once in a while) (Ok, I made that last bit up. The part about tripping over the walker, not the part about the excess old people. We all know I couldn't possibly trip, being a stud and all, but I did boot her tiny little parmaranian nearly across all four lanes of traffic. But that wasn't an accident) .
When I finally made it (I just wanted to touch back with you and let you know that , no, I didn't really fall over a lady's walker nor did I boot her stupid dog across half of Phoenix. You looked a little worried and I just wanted you to know that I was joking. Ha ha) to the proper bus stop, the driver immediately asked me how I was doing while reaching for my bag. (Ah, yes, luggage. Let me give you my quick philosophical treatsy upon luggage: Hate it. Avoid it whenever possible) You see, when flying now a days, you are allowed to bring upon the plane a hankerchief sized bag or briefcase or knapsack or pot of pigs feet. I myself, chose to forgo the pigs feet this trip and instead opted for the small bag. It may be a small bag, but its my bag and I was a little alarmed as to why my bag was the target of said bus driver's reach. So, I said, 'I'd be doing much better if I knew why you were reaching for my bag there, Ralphie boy.' (Ah, the Honeymooners. Can you believe what crap old people used to watch when they were our age?) This of course translated to 'Hello. How are you? Get the fargin flip nickle away from my bloody bag ya crazy bastiche' (Ok, that last part may have been lost in translation as my bag was whipped away from my clutching fingers and gently, almost reverently placed inside the bus on one of those handy luggage racks you see springing up on airport buses now a days. Not sure how that happens, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Did that once and horse breath isn't at all flattering)
Sensing that the strange fellow meant no harm, I followed my bag upon the bus, calmly tossing a 'thankyouverymuch' over my shoulder at the driver. (They sense fear, you know, so you have to stay calm in these situations) Once safely seated, I waited calmly (again, calm is the key here) as several hundred thousand other people with multiple billions and billions of assorted luggage where also neatly packed unto the now minivan seeming vehicle (Again, later, I learned that, no, I wasn't involved in some inner space diminisional shift and that, factually, there were only six people on the bus with no where close to even 30 peices of luggage. Wow. I must really have needed a break).
The RENTAL CAR SHUTTLE was soon on its journey to the mystical land of 'RENTAL CARs'; aka the Naturalized American Disneyland. It used to be that you could get your rental car right at the airport terminal. Of course those days have gone the way of the John Stamos and over the years, the rental cars have moved further and further away from the airport. So, after a quick shuttle ride to Las Vegas, I was ready to enjoy my Phoenix vacation.
Wait, I think I left a part out... Oh, yes, the rental car aquisition. When the bus finally made its way to the rental car center (The Phoenix rental car 'EXTRAVAGANZA' is a huge parking garage with all the major players: Hertz, Dollar, Enterprise, Hooptie Heaven, Avis, etc. Its like going into the terminal of the old Stapleton airport.... Except, ah, they have, you know, like, cars and not DC47s) after an exausting tour of several 'shantie' towns, I was able to safely de-bus - but only after racing the bus driver to my bag in a desperate attempt to not go thru the 'let me do that for you' dance of de-luggage racking my newspaper sized traveling tote - and make my way to the appropriate car rental establishment. Luckily, I was able to battle my way to second in line, consequently saving a day to a day and a half (depending on estimates) of my vacation time not having to be in line.
Once I was called to the counter (You are probably waiting for me to make some crack about the eternity it took for me to get to the counter, aren't you? For your information, not only was I able to read War and Peace but I was also able to successfully invent the perpetual motion machine and a safe and re-usable form of energy. Sadly, what happened next at the counter seemed to have shocked me so completely that the details of these accomplishments have been lost) I smugly handed over my credit card and drivers licence and said 'Yep, I got quite the deal on a car for this little get away, didn't I?' The strange and exotic looking gentleman on the other side of the counter simply smiled and said 'Why, I cannot say for certain my good man, but as soon as I am able to recall your information from our database here I am sure you will find everything to be thoroughly satisfactory' (I'm dead serious).
I nodded happily and waited whilst said exotic looking chap busily punched this button, pulled that lever, twisted that nob, cranked that, er, cranker thingy and blew that whistle (yes, I thought it was a bit much, but, you know, modern technology and all). Finally he said, 'Ah, Mr. Joe, or may I call you Monstrous?'
'Oh, call me MJ', I replied generously.
'Quite right, MJ, quite right. It seems you have the rate for our economy car, which is our smallest vehicle. Can I recommend that you upgrage, MJ?'
'Oh, what is this smallest car to which you speak?'
'Well, MJ, it is our economy class vehicle so it is rather small. Here, let me show you, I happen to have one here in my pocket. You see, it is one of the perks of working here; free rentals. So, you see, you basically stand upon it and by sheer will power alone you are able to convince other drivers that you need assistance and they will take you to your destination. I don't understand why, but most of our customers decide to upgrade'
'First off, no, I don't see. What is that, a matchbox car?'
'Oh, dear no sir! It is in fact our economy car. Several hundred thousand miles to the gallon.'
'Well, Exotic Looking Gentleman, I got a real deal when I reserved your, eh, grasshopper mobile there, eh?'
'Yes, of course, MJ, I see it right here. It appears we were paying you 14 dollars a day to drive this car. My, my, that is a good deal.'
'Yeah, that's what I said. I got a good deal.'
'Yes, of course, MJ, I see it right here. It appears we were paying you 14 dollars a day to drive this car. My, my, that is a good deal.'
(Blank look) 'Um, did you just say that?'
'Excuse me?'
'Hey, listen, don't be trying any of your Exotic Gentleman mojo on me fella, I'm a stud.'
'I'm sorry, did you just say 'I am a stud?''
'Hey, pal, I'm the stud, and don't change the subject. If I upgrade to, whatever is next in line, will I get this good price you seem to like spouting about?'
'Yes, of course, MJ. No, you will not get that deal, however, I can quote you a midsize for roughly a hundred thousand percent more than what we quoted you for the economy sized.'
'Ok, wait. Did you just contradict yourself?'
'Yes, of course, MJ. No, you will not get that deal, however, I can quote you a midsize for roughly three hundred million thousand gajillion percent more than what we quoted you for the economy sized.'
(blink)
(Exotic looking smile)
'Ok, man. First things first. You can call me Mr. Joe. Now, what is this midsize and what do you want me to pay?'
'Yes, of course, emm, er, Mr. Joe. Yes, our midsize is a nice Dodge Strata or Neon for only 5x what we quoted for the economy.'
'Ok, first off, I don't think you quite grasp the subtle intricacies of, you know, math and stuff. But, that aside, that price doesn't make for a very good deal anymore.'
'Yes, of course, Mr. Joe. Would you like our full size, which is a nice Dodge Strata or Neon for only 10x what we quoted for the economy.'
(double blink)
(Exotic smile)
'Listen pal, you have got to stay out of the sun. What you are saying is I could get a Strata for 5x as much or 10x as much?'
'Yes, you've gotten it, haven't you, sir!'
(deep sigh)
(Exotic smile)
'Listen. I'll take the 5x Stratta'
'Jolly good, sir! Well done!'
NOW, I'm ready for my nice relaxing weekend..... TBC
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)