Friday, August 31, 2007

Memorial...I mean Labor, No, Memorial Friday. Labor Friday?

Is it “Labor Day” or “Memorial Day” this Monday? I know one is at the start of the summer and the other is at the end, but I can never remember which is which. It is important too because if it is “Memorial Day” then I can’t really say “Happy Memorial Day” to everyone, now can I? How can we be happy on a day we are supposed to be remembering those who fell so we can stand? It should be a solemn day one would think.

Of course, “Labor Day” is not really that much happier. To “labor” is to work and most of us would rather not have to work if given the choice, so a day off from work to celebrate work is kind of back-asswards come to think of it.

Maybe we should just ignore whatever title is placed on the day and just celebrate having a Monday off. No, that won’t work either because, if it is “Memorial Day” and not “Labor Day,” then I will be accused (again) of being unpatriotic and denying the sacrifice of our troops. Damnit, I just can’t win. It must be a Friday.

Hello fellow Lemmings and welcome to another edition of “It’s Friday.” Today’s edition is being brought to you by the number 42 and the letter “Q” and not by patients. We don’t really have anything going weekend; it must be one of those “end of summer/ start of school” things. Might as well speak in prose...

Twas the weekend before school
And all over the place
Children were sulking
With sour looks on their face
The traffic was growing thicker
And slower each day
As thick and as slow
As it was just last May
And I’m on the highway
Trapped in my car
Cursing and yelling
“I don’t have to go all that far!”
But slowly I drive
And slowly I creep
Driving to work
Yet dreaming of sleep
And I know in my suffering
I’m not alone
As children fake illness
Hoping to stay home
But it will not work
And it won’t go away
Why did I write this?
It seems I have nothing to say?

Damn that was a weak one! Stupid junk poetry. Happy weekend kids!

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Again I Done Did Got Tagged Again Dagnabit!

Can you believe I have been tagged twice in two days? Me either. This time it comes from my usual sadist... I mean tagger AKA Serena Joy. She does so love to torment me I think and I love her for it.

Today's tag is all about blogging and why we do it.

1. What was the first blog that you regularly read?
A political battleground called Drudge Retort. It was/is a news site that allows members to post stories and comment on them. It got me hooked to forcing my opinion on random strangers. No link to them though; I left on bad terms.

2. Do you remember the first blogger that you had an E-Mail relationship with?
A fellow Drudgeie who went by “JeffJ.” He and I never agreed on anything, but there was a civil nature to our debates that forced us to usually continue them in private, away from the trolls. We were even running for office under "K&J 08- Vote Early/ Vote Often"

3. Why did you create your blog?
I think it created me or maybe Al Gore created us both.

4. When was your first post, and who was your first commenter?
July 11, 2006 and Gal Tuesday. I miss her

5. Are there blogs that you absolutely have to visit daily?
Yes, everyone on my list. The truth is that I have a link list more for me than for my readers. It is the places I love to go to.

6. Is your Blog categorized? (i.e., Comedy, Literary, Personal Angst, Etc.)
It is now simply because it makes me feel like a real writer. “Want my politics? That is right here. Movies? Over here.” I am my own library

7. Do you see an end to your blogging some day?
Probably, but I am not planning on it. I assume blogging after death will be a tad bit difficult with all the pitchforks, fire, and brimstone, but like Houdini said- if there is life after death I’ll let you know.

8. What are you wearing right this very minute?
Boring work clothes- pasties, a G-string, and a wad of dollar bills.

I am tagging thatgreenyflower for certain for this one. Anyone else who has not been tagged before can bust your cherry on this one. It does get harder from here....the tagging you pervs!

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Done Did Get Tagged Again, Dagnabit

I got tagged which means you have now been tagged. VE did it so blame him. Worse than a virus, huh?

Everything you Never Wanted to Know About a Lemming and Decided Not to Ask:

Four jobs I have had or currently have in my life:

1. I was a greeter at the book store at college. It was a short three week job I had at the beginning and end of the semester. My job was basically to say “Hello. Can I help you? Selling books? To the left. Thank you and have a great day.” I was pretty good at it. It was just the proper level of challenging for my ston….I mean college mind.

2. Pizza Delivery Dude- I was not the “Pizza man” or “The Delivery Boy.” No sir, I was the “Pizza Dude”: long hair, badly shaven, metal blasting from my badly parked car, pizza just a tad bit late, and my eyes more red than the sauce on the pie. What? No tip? Bogus!

3. Manager of Pizza Delivery- this was a single job, but, like delivery, consisted of many, many, many different places. I would quit/ get fired one day only to have the same job at the competition the next day. I was really pretty good at it; doing the prep was my favorite part.

4. Current Job: Human Resources Manager at a sleep lab- I lucked out into this job: nepotism. My years of managing restaurants it seems has trained me to be a great HR person in an office. Dealing with drivers has prepared me for anything. I love the 9-5/M-F schedule too.

Four Countries I have been to:

1. I have been to America. I know that would seem obvious, but remember that I live in South Florida. Trust me, America is a foreign country.

2. Israel- when I was 13 my family and I went there to celebrate my Bar Mitzvah. I did not have many friends so a party would have been a waste. Instead, the family took a two week jaunt to the Holy Land. This should really be a post unto itself actually.

3. England- been here twice. Once was part of the Israel trip and the second time was in my 20’s with my ex. She was from there so it was great to see England as a native instead of a tourist. This should probably be a post as well.

4. I have not been to any other countries although, living in South Florida I have many other countries come to me.

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. In bed
2. In the womb
3. Just behind you…no, on the other side.
4. Work….wait a minute!

Four foods I like to eat:
1. Tacos- nature’s perfect food
2. My mom’s meatloaf
3. Pretzels
4. Hot Tamales candy

Four personal heroes-past or present:

1. Thomas Jefferson- Cliché I know to pick him, but he really was that wise of a man. Most of the things I love about my country are directly due to him.

2. This lady.

3. Dr. Seuss- Who cannot admire this man? Teaching actual morality using made-up words and teaching serious lessons with total absurdity- the man changed the way an entire generation sees the world. “Oh the places you’ll see…”

4. You- if it wasn’t for you I would be babbling to myself. You are my hero because you help keep me sane(ish). You are my hero because you can digest the things I write and have the fortitude to return the next day. You are my hero because I cannot think of a forth and I figured I might as well just suck up to the reader like Time magazine did with their “Person of the Year.” If “You” is good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.

Four books I have read or are currently reading:

1. Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk- The last member of a Suicide Death Cult becomes a cultural icon being used for world domination. The story is told by the icon after he hijacks a plane and is planning to allow it to crash after running out of fuel. The entire book is his story as he narrates it into the plane’s black box. The page numbers count down to the crash- it happens on page one. The book starts on page 190. It’s an interesting gimmick that actually works. You are constantly checking the page number to see how long the narrator has left to live. I have not ruined anything in this description either so read it.

2. Darkly Dreaming Dexter: A Novel by Jeff Lindsay- Dexter works for the City of Miami Police Department. His adopted father was a cop and his sister is a cop. Dexter, on the other hand, is a serial killer who hunts and kills serial killers. I will say nothing more about this other than to say “read this book now!” It's also a great show on Showtime.

3. Red Dwarf by Rob Grant and Doug Naylor- Lister finds himself trapped on board the mining ship “Red Dwarf” after being frozen in suspended animation for three million years. It was not supposed to be that long, but an accident killed the entire crew and left him adrift. His only friends are a hologram of his old roommate who he hated, a creature that evolved over the three million years from a pregnant pet cat he had, an anal-retentive and incompetent robot that sort of accidentally killed his previous crew, and a computer that has an IQ of six thousand, but has gone insane after three million years alone. Good stuff.

4. When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops? By George Carlin- Not his best stuff actually. This is a bathroom book if ever there was one. There is no real plot or story or even a purpose to this book. It is, in essence, just a transcript of him doing stand up. Personally I think the jokes work better when he tells them. Written down they just come across as mean.

Four to Tag :

This is the fun part- spreading the pain.
1. Scary Monster
2. Serena Joy
3. Birdie
4. Steve

Tee Hee. No "tag backs."

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Ever Been So Bored That...

So there I was working one boring as hell Sunday morning in a “Never-To-Be-Named” pizza place. It's not that I don't want to advertise the place or that I am ashamed of where I worked, but rather I am scared of the assholes I used to work for suing me for naming the place without paying them first. They hated me and I hated them so we had this mutual respect for each other on that level. As much as they hated to admit it, I was one of their best employees and as much as I hated to admit it, they allowed me to go further than any other employer ever did. Well, ever did up to that point. My boss reads this blog. My job is great boss and I love you!

I got into the “Never-To-Be-Named” pizza place around eight in the morning to begin the prep-work for the day. We were a buffet restaurant so we needed quite a bit of prep-work done before the eleven o'clock opening time. There was a church right across the street that ended their first service right as we opened so we were guaranteed to have custies first thing in the morning.

“Custie” is a a word we used for customer. Dehumanized them just enough for us to make it easy to despise them, but kept them human enough to remind us they were the customer. As I learned in Hotel Restaurant School- the customer is not always right, but they are always our guest. It may not sound right, but in a restaurant it is definitely “us versus them” and the custies are always the enemy. A hostile invading force looking to take as many of our resources as humanly possible with as little damage to themselves as possible. Our jobs- defend the home front and just try to make it through the day. But I digress...

I was doing my morning prep-work with about three or four other employees; most around seventeen years of age. I was an oddity to them, but in some ways they looked up to me. I think I was the first adult they ever saw who refused to grow up. It gave them some hope about growing older I think. Or they just had fun with an adult for the first time in their lives, or maybe I was just a slacker boss and they dug that. Who really knows? Maybe they mocked me behind my back. Doesn't matter, we were doing our prep-work and it came time to make the dough for the morning.

I liked to do the dough as late as possible while still giving it time to rise. The bags of flour were fifty pounds each and I really hated lifting them at eight in the morning. I needed at least an hour to wake up before I could even think about doing any actual work. Usually closer to two hours if I could allow myself to be the “asshole manager” who smoked while everyone else worked. I did that once or twice when hung over.

This day I was making the dough all my by lonesome. I walked over to the stack of flour bags and stopped in my tracks. I never saw anything like what I saw before in my life. I had heard about it plenty of times of course, but never saw it nor known anyone who knew anyone who had. It was always just an expression up to that point, but no longer for there, on a bag of flour, were two flies going at it.

I called all my seventeen year olds over from the myriad of jobs they were doing to come and gaze with me in this once in a life time sight. I had to share it with them. I mean it took me twenty-nine years to see such a spectacle, so I was saving them the years of anticipation. They did not exactly take the same delight in it as I did, but they were young after all. I would take a few years to fully sink in I think.

The flies kept at their business completely unphased by the crowd of voyeuristic giants staring at their insect porno. It was like “National Geographic Live” or something. That could explain why the seventeen year olds were so uninterested in the fly freak show. Maybe they thought this was educational or something. I felt some explaining was in order.

“Don't you understand,” I asked the blank-faced children before me. “We are so bored at work that we are watching flies fuck!”

The reaction you are giving me right now after reading all of that is the exact same reaction the seventeen year olds gave me. I actually heard booing. The flies even stopped their mating to go somewhere more comedic.

“OK, back to work.” Playing the boss card was my only way out.

Why exactly did I just tell you this story?

Friday, August 24, 2007

Friday, Stupidity, and Real Friendship

Can it possibly be Friday yet again? Didn’t we just have one like seven days ago or something? What, is this going to become like a weekly thing or something? Am I really going to have to endure a Friday every week before I can sleep in on Saturday? What kind of bullshit is that? I demand a recount…wait. I live in Florida. A recount is bad idea. We may get stuck with Bush again or something.

So today’s edition of “Its Friday” is going to be a tad bit different than my usual standard “Friday hates me” rant I usually do. No such luck for you today because today I have a story to tell: a story of pain, gore, and stupidity, but also a tale of friendship. Not your standard fare… or is it “fair?” I have never seen it written down now that I think of it. Either way, this is something new for a Friday here at the Lemming House.

Last night I was home alone. That is a stupid way to start come to think of it. I mean I live alone so of course I was home alone last night. Scratch this paragraph and move on to the next one for the real beginning.

Last night I did one of the more stupid things I have ever done in my life. G-d was tuned in and laughing His ass off at the antics occurring in my abode. It was slapstick at its finest; complete with blood.

Mom Warning #1 As you read this you will understand why I don’t clean my house that often.

Ok, I had a sink full of dishes and they were begging to be cleaned, literally. I think they had formed some type of new intelligent life that was possibly a few days away from learning how to clean itself. I was bored and in the middle of cooking (AKA microwaving) dinner and had four minutes-thirty seconds to spare. Normally this time would be occupied with a cigarette, but I don’t do that any more so I took my mom’s advice of cleaning something when I wanted a smoke. Dishes were calling me after all so where better to start? I don’t need a disgruntled dishes picketing in front of my house again.

Mom Warning #1B Not really that bad.

Forks, spoons, plates, glasses, Tupperware- it all behaved while rinsed them off before settling them into the home for the next few days (AKA the dishwasher). Some of them even squeaked “Ahhhhhh” under the warm water rinse. It was a totally pleasant scene until….

Hiding just beneath the foamy layer of suds was lurking the shark of the dish sink. It was lying there waiting for a victim to show just a slight moment of weakness and, sadly, I was to be that victim. I couldn’t help it. I was in its environment after all and it is the king of the sink.

Mom Warning #2 I am alive and fine so do not panic as you read.

I brushed my finger against it the first time, but was unsure of what I had just touched. It did not feel like anything I owned. It felt smooth like a piece of paper, but much, much firmer. Not sure and curious, I brushed against it a second time with the same finger and realized what exactly I had found- my new knife: the sharp, really sharp, “never dulls,” guaranteed-for-life, stainless-steel blade of death. I am really stupid sometimes.

I do not “do” blood. Any illusion of bravery or coolness I project quickly fades when that crimson liquid begins to flow and especially if that particular fluid is flowing from my body and particularly especially if it is gushing more than flowing. G-d loves a good bloody joke I always say.

I knew my cut was deep simply because I do not screw up small. Mom said that I should do something to the best of my ability if I am going to do it at all, so when I screw up, I screw up. This was a good one too. It did not bleed, it poured.

I was panicked and near passing out. I could feel my flesh lose what little pigmentation I have and I broke out in a freezing cold sweat. I could only muster “oh Fuck” out of my mouth for a good thirty minutes as I held it in paper towels wondering what I should be doing besides bleeding everywhere. I remembered I lived alone and “the” someone who was going to have to clean up if I bled everywhere was me so I tried to contain myself to a single room and changed paper towels every few seconds.

I don’t remember when or why, but I dialed my friend’s cell phone and he heard something was wrong in my voice. I told him I cut myself.

“Is it bad?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it deep?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you looked at it?”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Five minutes later his girlfriend called me. In my panic I could not find the phone, but her words soon carried over the answering machine in calming serenity.

“We are on our way there. Do not look at it. DO NOT LOOK AT IT! Just keep it covered. We are almost there.”

She left work and he was on his way home after a long and tiring day. They stopped off at a store and bought me peroxide (alcohol would HURT) and band-aids and came right in. He talked to me and calmed me while she looked at the wound and treated it. I could not stand up any longer. I had, in my panic, built this wound up into my finger hanging on by a thread and my mom yelling at me “I made you with ten fingers and I would appreciate you remaining that way.”

The reality of the wound is that, while a bleeder and sort of deep, it was not big and not really that bad. It is on the middle finger of my left hand, right next to the nail. It bled for about two hours steady before stopping, but has not bled since. It hurts. It pulses and pounds, but is not bleeding anymore.

I got teary last night about it all. Not from the pain or the blood or the panic, but because of my friends. I have never had friends that would literally drop everything because they knew I needed them. I was not in trouble, but they know how I am with gore and knew how I would be reacting and knew I needed them. They came over faster than they have ever come over before and completely took charge and cared about me. They even called me today to see how I was and how it was.

Am I a wimp? Unquestionably. Am I pathetic? When it comes to pain and gore, yup! Am I lucky? Oh my yes. I have real friends in real life and not just my usual “people I pass along the way.”

Happy weekend and sorry for the really, really, really long post.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

This is Important

Sign the petition. Stop the next war before it starts.

Today's Earworm Experience

I was over at Story Bones today and there Steve is wishing the Big Mac a happy 40th. Naturally that got me thinking about Mc Donald's and it took only ten minutes for this to find its way into my head. Ladies, gentlemen, and fellow Lemmings- I give you today's earworm.

Well, the only good earworm is a shared earworm. Lucky for me I know some of the words. Now I got to learn them all. Everyone say it with me: Thank you Steve =P

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Do Not Read If Your Age Bugs You!!!

I didn't feel old this morning when I woke up and my bones creaked. I did not feel old today as I drove past the schools on my way to work and saw all the children rushing off to class. Hell, I did not even feel old as I clipped the gray hairs from my goatee and brushed past the bald spot atop my head. No, I did not feel old until I saw this list on MSNBC. My G-d am I old or what?

These are changes made in the world that people born in 1989 have no idea about.

1. What Berlin wall?

2. Humvees, minus the artillery, have always been available to the public.

3. Rush Limbaugh and the “Dittoheads” have always been lambasting liberals.

4. They never “rolled down” a car window.

5. Michael Moore has always been angry and funny.

6. They may confuse the Keating Five with a rock group.

7. They have grown up with bottled water.

8. General Motors has always been working on an electric car.

9. Nelson Mandela has always been free and a force in South Africa.

10. Pete Rose has never played baseball.

11. Rap music has always been mainstream.

12. Religious leaders have always been telling politicians what to do, or else!

13. “Off the hook” has never had anything to do with a telephone.

14. Music has always been “unplugged.”

15. Russia has always had a multi-party political system.

16. Women have always been police chiefs in major cities.

17. They were born the year Harvard Law Review Editor Barack Obama announced he might run for office some day.

18. The NBA season has always gone on and on and on and on.

19. Classmates could include Michelle Wie, Jordin Sparks, and Bart Simpson.

20. Half of them may have been members of the Baby-sitters Club.

The full list of 70 items can be found here. Sorry to do this to you, but why should I suffer alone. I mean think about it- They never saw Johnny Carson live on television. and stadiums, rock tours and sporting events have always had corporate names. Oye am I old.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Dream Savior and the Manolos

Every plot I think of is difficult to explain let alone write. I have been trying for the last few days to see if I could explain either one of my main stories in a few paragraphs and I cannot. I can't even find a place to start since every aspect of the story needs another to help explain it. I am not even sure a writing class could help me with this. I mean maybe some stories are just not supposed to be told.

The story I have been dying to tell for the last fifteen years or so takes place in that split-second moment between just sleeping and dreaming. I play with the idea that, if dreams are black and white for most people then there can be an entire dimension to our dreams occurring in color that we never see. In the moment we go from our color reality to our gray dream world, there is a chance for possession by a demon. Our nightmares are sometimes possessions by these demons.

The story centers on a character I call “The Dream Savior” for lack of a better name and it is here where the story flies off the handles and gets impossible to explain. If I simplify the story I lose the point of it. It is this character and his main nemesis that creates the entire crux of the problem: it is impossibly convoluted. I can only try here.

The story is a prolonged origin story of the Dream Savior (I am just going to say “Dreamer” from now on). In essence, this is not the first Dreamer and not the last. They are destined to fail and, in their failure the next one is created so, by telling the demise of this Dreamer I am also telling its origin.

OK, Now it gets weird. I was not sober when I thought up this story all those years ago for the record, but I have never forgotten it. It is haunting me in certain ways, but is more taunting me with the fact that I cannot tell it to anyone in anyway that makes any sense to anyone other than me..

The Dreamer's main function is to battle the demons possessing our dreams and collect their evil which he feeds the Manolos. The Manolos is a creature made up of humanity's acts. It is good when mankind is overall good and evil when mankind is evil. It is a mirror of our times. It is the Dreamer's task to maintain the balance in the Manolos by keeping as much evil out of the world as possible.

To the Dream Demons the Manolos is a god. Like the Dreamer, they know the central rule of mankind: good left alone will die while evil ignored will grow. If the Manolos were to escape and be free of the Dreamer, the evil in it would overcome the good and the Dream Demons would have their leader, be rid of the Dreamer, and have free reign over humanity's souls.

The “mythology” of the Dreamer goes as such: the Manolos will escape. The Dreamer's task at that point is to find and return the Manolos to the Dream Realm. The person whose mind the Manolos possesses while it is free is the person chosen to become the next Dreamer and the current Dreamer is punished for allowing the Manolos to escape. Destinies are not always fair..

The punishment for losing the Manolos is that the Dreamer is cursed to forever spend eternity as a mocking bird perched upon the leafless oak tree. The mocking bird is there to guide and teach the new Dreamer, but they are usually bitter and jealous of losing their power and provide little help. They only provide help to keep the Dreamer around as long as possible. Their fates are tied since only three mockingbirds may exist at any time. When a Dreamer fails and transforms the oldest mockingbird dies.

Now the story would take place in two realities eventually, but would start off in only one: the Dream Realm. This setting is composed of a vast desert encircled by a continuous mountain range. The only other object in this desert is a lone leafless oak tree, which is where the mocking birds live. Each grain of sand making up the desert is a dream. They are every dream that ever was or that will ever be. Time does not exist in this reality.

The other reality for the story would be the human world. The Manolos escapes and possesses the mind of a nine year old girl. He slowly drives her insane as his evil grows and forbids her to dream in fear of the Dreamer finding him. Since she never dreams, she drifts far from reality and slowly becomes trapped in a “waking dream” where the Manolos gains full control of her; wake or asleep. This would be the subplot I suppose. There is more to it, but mystery is needed.

I guess that is the story in a nutshell. It can go anywhere I choose in any time I choose since the majority of it takes place in people's dreams. The story would follow the Dreamer in his battles with people's nightmares in his search for the Manolos. I have the main plot points down pat, I just don't have any filler at all.

Any ideas? Please be honest: the blunter the better. “It sucks” would not be out of line. Even posting this now I fear that it is just the silly writings of a 22 year old that has just stuck with me for so long that it sounds good. Ask any questions you may have please because it will help me see where the plot is weak.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Fried-Day Blues

It is Friday and I owe a post, but I have nothing really. Today is kicking my ass up and down, left and right, and even inside and out. I have a thoroughly kicked, battered, and bruised derriere today. I still three more hours to go which is only serving to give those who have yet to kick more time to decide that they too want to punt my butt. Rush now while supplies last. Offer void in Tennessee.

Happy Friday. More later when I am not quite so sober. Yes, it is one of THOSE Fridays.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Why Can't He Go Lawyer Hunting Instead... Like Cheney Did?

Sometimes if you look at something just right, the story will write itself. It is at those moments that a good writer will just step back and allow the reader to discover it and experience the same joy that you, as the writer, did upon finding it. Sometimes even a writer like me stumbles upon the same thing. Today there is just such a story in the news. I think the first sentence of the first paragraph says it all. Enjoy.

From the Washington Post's site:
The first thing Karl Rove plans to do when he leaves the White House at the end of this month is go dove hunting in West Texas, The Sleuth has learned.

The symbolism is priceless. The irony is pretty ironic. The bold was added by me to assist in the storytelling. Thank you and good night.

Gimme a Ticket for an Aeroplane

Have you ever considered being a Russian? Seriously! Have you ever in your life thought, even if only for a fleeting second that you might just want to leave the land of the free and the home of the brave for the hammer and sickle of oppression? Me either…until today. They may not have warmth or freedom, but they know how to throw a holiday. I should back up I think.

Ulyanovsk is a city in Russia located 853km from Moscow to the east according to Wikipedia. Its claim to fame it that it is the birthplace of Lenin. No, not John; Vladimir. You know Vlad! He was the first leader of the Soviet Union and was succeeded by Stalin. There ya go! That Lennon…I mean Lenin. You got me all confused now too.

ANYWAYS….it seems we are not the only ones not wanting to be a Russian as they are suffering a huge birth shortage/ early death problem. I never thought about it or had reason to, but Russian is appearntly "one of the most sparsely settled countries in the world" with only 141 million people. That is roughly half of the United States' population and 14% of China's one billion.

To battle this problem, the leaders of the township, city, etc, etc, etc, have come up with a new holiday and I want it here or else I become Russian tomorrow! September 12 is officially the “Day of Conception” in that town. They get the day off work and everything! To have sex! It is their patriotic duty to have sex and they get the day off to do it! The "it!" The big "it!"

OK, “new holiday” is a bit of a stretch I admit. I am sure Russians have been having sex for a long time and even this event is in its third year, but as NBC says- if you haven’t seen it then it’s new to you! They even give away prizes to couples who "give birth to a patriot" during another holiday on June 12. Think about it- cars, cash, and after-birth! Those Russians know how to throw a party.

We have freedom and they have sex: patriotic sex. Seems like a fair trade to me. Plus, think about all Russia is doing to increase the world's June Gemini count. Seems to me like they are doing some wonderful things for the planet. We don't need more people per say, but we can always use more June Geminis. And who knows, we may get a May one or two in the deal.

PS- I know the word is "airplane," but the song pronounces it as "Air-O-Plane" and I felt the other spelling worked better. Word Cop- move on. Nothing to see here =P

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Misty Water Colored Memories

“I’m Phil Rizzuto for the Money Store” is one of those catchphrases that will stick with me until I die. It is right there with “Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down,” “don’t squeeze the Charmin,” and “let Lionel Playworld turn that frown upside-down.” I really never knew Phil Rizzuto was famous for anything else until today when, tragically I learned he had passed away at age 89. Turns out he was more famous as a Yankee’s shortstop and sports announcer than as a loan specialist spokesman. Whodathunkit?

Today’s post is half morbid and half nostalgic: first the morbid part. With Merv Griffin passing away yesterday and Phil Rizzuto today, who do you think will be the next famous death? I am not hoping for another famous death, but these things do always happen in threes. Personally, I have yet to recover from the “one-two” punch that was Sammy Davis, Jr and Jim Henson going hours apart. If I were a betting man, I would place my money on LiLo. For some reason reading “Lindsey Lohan found dead” would not shock me even a little. Again, I am not hoping she is next, but that would be my bet if she is not dead already. It has been four days since I saw her name in the press so maybe she was the first to go.

Spoke too soon- She is back in the news and therefore alive. Damn...

Now the nostalgic- What slogans stand out in your mind from childhood? It will probably be a toy or food of some description, but which product’s slogan has become placed deeply in your fondest memories?

“Just one Calorie”
“Once you start you can’t stop”
“AAmco- double A (honk honk) M-C-O”
“Two all beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions on a sesame bun (BIG MAC)
“We’ll leave a light on for you”

Any of those make you feel old or am I alone and babbling once again?

RIP Phil.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Email to Make you Think

I hate forwards. I read them when very bored, but have rarely seen anything worth the effort needed to pass it along. Yes, I know it only takes one button to forward something and that is my point. Most forwards are not even worth the one button, but today I got one that does make me think.

Just a little humor to help ease the pain of your next trip to the pump...

Think a gallon of gas is expensive?

Diet Snapple 16 oz $1.29 ....... $10.32 per gallon
Lipton Ice Tea 16 oz $1.19 .......... $9.52 per gallon
Gatorade 20 oz $1.59 .... $10.17 per gallon
Ocean Spray 16 oz $1.25 .......... $10.00 per gallon
Brake Fluid 12 oz $3.15 ........... $33.60 per gallon
Vick's Nyquil 6 oz $8.35 .... $178.13 per gallon
Pepto Bismol 4 oz $3.85 ... $123.20 per gallon
Whiteout 7 oz $1.39 ....... . $25.42 per gallon
Scope 1.5 oz $0.99 $84.48 per gallon

And this is the REAL KICKER...

Evian water 9 oz $1.49..........$21.19 per gallon?!

$21.19 for WATER - and the buyers don't even know the source. (Evian spelled backwards is Naive.)

Now join with me and say "HMmmmmmm" as you place an index finger on your chin.

PS- Happy Left-Handed Day to all my fellow Sinister bloggers. Remember, the left handed are of the right mind and who really wants to be part of the right-wing anyway?

R.I.P. Merv Griffin

Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr: You. You're the elevator killer. Merv Griffin.

Merv Griffin: Yeah.

Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr: Why?

Merv Griffin: I don't know. I've always just loved to kill. I really enjoyed it. But then I got famous, and - it's just too hard for me. And so many witnesses. I mean, *everybody* recognized me. I couldn't even lurk anymore. I'd hear, "Who's that lurking over there? Isn't that Merv Griffin?" So I came to Europe to kill. And it's really worked out very well for me.

-The Man with Two Brains

Rest in Peace and thank you for all the entertainment you have given all these years.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Creatures of Habit and a Friday- To Go

I have been going to the same McDonald’s for lunch twice a week for the last seven years. It is right next to my office and, if timed properly, can be the quickest food you can get. Considering the nightmare that is parking at work, the speed of return is its largest selling point. The really big sodas are a close second with the great Mickey D’s fries coming in so close to second that it could be scored as 2.5 on the reason list.

Regardless of the reasons, I have been going to the same place for years now and ordering almost the same thing. For the last two years it has been the same thing- a number eight- large, with a Diet Coke (no ice) to go. Today I did not even have to place an order. I walked up to the counter and before I could say one word the cashier said to me “five-ninety-seven.” She handed me the large cup and gathered my meal and handed me my food- the correct order- without me uttering a single syllable. She even knew I wanted two barbeque sauces. I should have tipped her, but I was shocked somewhat and embarrassed.

Creatures of Habit suffer shame and embarrassment quite often I have found. We are easy to catch once someone figures out the pattern. I have been busted not buying certain things by the check-out people at the grocery store for example. “No tacos this weekend?” they have asked me more than once and it is really embarrassing when it happens. It makes you feel predicable: like you are going through life on auto-pilot or something. Now it has happened again in yet another place.

Do I switch my shopping pattern? Do I change stores? Do I alter my list? Or do I keep on shopping where I shop and buying what I buy and enjoy the fact that my face is memorable and that I have made an impression on these people? Of course, this could be revenge for the countless regular customers I used to mock in my pizza delivery days.

This was posted on the forum about the problem-

Blogger Employee View profile
More options Aug 10, 11:48 am

From: Blogger Employee
Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2007 15:48:38 -0000
Local: Fri, Aug 10 2007 11:48 am
Subject: Re: Blog dissapeared except background

Great collaboration here! We did some digging around ourselves, and have found the same thing you have. It seems the problematic file lodged itself into your templates. As such, we've removed all instances of this file from any blog that had it, so your blogs should be as good as new, just as they were before. Let us know if you run into any further problems or difficulties. Thanks for everyone's reports and investigation!

Poll Results

I Would Rather:

Get drunk/ stoned 2 (25%)

Get rich 3 (37%)

Get laid 3 (37%)

Goto Church 0 (0%)

Wow did that poll idea suck or what? Happy Friday to all!


Thursday, August 09, 2007

The Scooby Gang to the Rescue

It appears Ye Ole Lemming Abode is becoming an information hub for this “ mystery.” I am flattered and wish I had more information to give out about this, but it is as baffling to me as anyone else. All I can do is tell how I came to conclude it was that site causing the problem.

I blog from work quite often. I know I shouldn't, but I do. Today I found most of the sites I visited were not opening so I just assumed I got busted and they blocked those sites. They blocked MySpace a long time ago so it is not without precedent. Instead I figured I would just bop home during my lunch hour and see what was what out in bloggerspace. Yes, I am that addicted to blogging, but that is not the point of this post. At home I found my favorite sites would still not open so obviously it was not the IT guy who blocked me, but something else.

While waiting and waiting and waiting for something, anything to open I noticed a weird message in my window. At work I use Internet Explorer, but at home I use FireFox and it tells me what exactly it is trying to open when opening a page. I am sure IE does the same thing, but I have no idea how to set it for that. Regardless, I noticed it said “connecting to” and was stalled. I closed my window, opened a new one, and tried a different address. The same thing came up. Again and again I tried various addresses and got the same message every time.

With my lunch hour up I returned to work very confused, bothered, and determined to get my blogs back. I searched “” on yahoo and got nothing. The same with Google, but I was not going to give up. I tried instead “what is” and that is where I found that forum talking about the MySpace virus. The entire picture did not come together until SJ said she had some MySpace code on her page. I think that is how this is getting in and spreading.

I recommend going to here for more help.

I am going to continue looking for a cure for this until my friend's sites are back. Otherwise I might have to actually do work at boss reads this. I forgot. I mean to say “I am so busy I must spend this time at home to solve this.” I love you Boss.

UPDATE Charlie found a cure. Serena has used it and she is disease free. She has posted the cure.

Bloggers M.I.A.

Certain blogs appear to have disappeared. When trying to open them I get caught up trying to find some page called "" instead. When blogspot finally does open on those pages they are blank with the blogspot banner. So far the sites M.I.A. for me are:

1. Littlebird Blue
2. Parenthetically Speaking
3. Me No Blog
4. Delusions of Eloquence
5. Verbicidal Tendencies

My other usual haunts seem to be working fine...for now. The only information I can find about "" is that it appears to be a blog virus that affects MySpace. I cannot get more information from work, but here is the link to what I have found out so far.

The bad part about not getting many comments is that I am not going to know if I am one of the "down sites" and I am just blogging to myself right now. Funny this happens the same day I post this, huh?

Update Again They have been found sort of. They take on average five minutes for the text to load, but they are finally back. It only took three hours and the problem is only partially fixed (way to go blogspot), but at least they live again.


As bloggers, we rely on the internet being free from censorship. This is something that should concern us all.

AT&T's actions strike at the heart of the public's concerns over the power that corporations have when it comes to determining what the public sees and hears through communications media

If a company that is controlling a webcast is cutting out bits of our performance -not based on laws, but on their own preferences and interpretations - fans have little choice but to watch the censored version.

What happened to us this weekend was a wake up call, and it's about something much bigger than the censorship of a rock band.

If you have examples of AT&T censoring artist performances around political content, it's a good thing for everyone to know about.


UPDATE It has begun. I cannot open Littlebird Blue, Serena Joy, Scary Monster, or Seeley Deborn's sites. Something called "" tries to open instead every time I click their pages. Roxan, VE, and all others work fine. Weird! I tried from various computers to make sure it was not just mine causing the problems.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

And Serena Can Exhale...

I called my mother last night for reassurance. I feel like I am not behaving like myself since I quit smoking. I am feeling like in every situation I am the asshole, so I called my mom for her to calm my nerves and give me mental relief.

“Mom, I am feeling like an asshole lately,” I said to her.

“You are an asshole."

“No, I mean really. I am feeling like a total asshole since I quit smoking.”

“No really,” she answered, “you are an asshole. You were one before you quit smoking. Too much of your father in you probably, but you are not acting that differently.”

This was not the “Jewish Mother” answer I was hoping for. She bobs sometimes when I expect a weave.

Yes I know I have always been an asshole, but there are degrees to assholeishness. (Screw you Spellcheck, “assholeishness” is a word now!) I like to think of myself as the funny and quick-witted smart ass type of asshole. The type you know will have something to say in response to most things, but they are usually there not to hurt, but to entertain. My biggest foil is myself for example. Self-depreciating humor is my favorite.

Lately I have been feeling like a new breed of asshole- the mean asshole. I have not been trying to make others laugh. I have been angry and mean spirited. I rant, not babble. I insult, not joke. I think “shut up” where I used to think a myriad of random silly thoughts while listening to other people. I am getting upset with people for behavior I used to laugh off as their being an asshole. Now I am the asshole others are laughing at: not with, but at. If I didn’t live alone already I probably would be by now.

I do not crave cigarettes any longer. I chew on straws still constantly, but I do not want the smoke any more. I am only hoping and praying that I get a handle on my assholeishness as soon as possible. I miss finding humor in life. I miss not taking things seriously ever. Maybe I just need a cigarette….NO!

PS- What is the name for the three dots used to end a sentence? You know, the "..." I am over using, what is it called? I love them.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Like Minds and Such

I pride myself on posting original things here. They may suck sometimes (only sometimes?) and they may vary from serious to abstract to diary entries, but I have not reprinted something someone else did…until right now.

Anyone who reads here knows my two greatest passions in my writing life are politics and pop culture. The only thing greater than those two things separate is the combination of the two in some “Simpsons-esque” explosion of abstraction and satire, but that is sadly usually above my ability to create. Lucky for all of us I found this at the Neil Rogers website. I know I am violating copyrights and such posting it here, but it is that good IMHO. Enjoy.

I think it is brilliant and I more than want everyone who stops by here to see it, I need you to. It is me and I am shocked and disappointed it is not original.

Speaking of original, I hope to return to originality soon…maybe even tomorrow, but don’t hold your breath. I mean it will be 24 hours at least and you will pass out and possibly hurt yourself. See, I may not update often, but I care.

Oh, at it seems Don McLean was right. The music did die in the 50's. Lemmings always know best.

The Big Bopper, Richie Valens, and Buddy Holly die in plane crash 4 (50%)
Hendrix, Joplin, and Morrison die months apart 0 (0%)
Aerosmith allows Run DMC to cover "Walk this Way" and joins in 1 (12%)
Def Leppard is formed 0 (0%)
MTV goes on the air 2 (25%)
Music has never been better 0 (0%)
Roth leaves Van Halen and Haggar joins 1 (12%)

PPS- Roth is joining Van Halen again, but Michael Anthony will not be there so it still is not a reunion. Wolfgang Van Halen (Eddie's son) does not count regardless of his last name.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Too Hot To Handle, Too Cold to Hold

Today is hot. We are talking HOT! I am considering a day trip to Hades just to cool off. I bought some Cookie Dough Ice Cream and by the time I got home I had cookies and milk in a pint container. Ben and Jerry’s cookies and milk, but not the ice cream I expected to have when I laid my money down on the counter. This is only the beginning of August as well which means it only gets hotter from here. It is even too hot to blog. OK, not really, but I am lazy today with not much to say so I am going to blame it on the heat. It’s too hot to blog.

Friday, August 03, 2007

And The Friday Spoke...

Friday is today. Is today Friday? Is Friday today? Today is Friday.

I think that about sums up how busy I am today at work. I am not complaining (much) considering how my Fridays usually are, but the clock does move slower on days like this. Like this days. This days like. That doesn’t seem to work as well. Back to tradition: Today, Friday is.

“So Kanrei, what should I do this weekend is I find myself with a spare 86 minutes?”

A question?! Am I copying another idea from Serena Joy? (Yes!) Shshhh! Anymore back talk and I will only use one twin to blog from now on. (Sorry) You should be. Whose side are you on anyway? (Ours) Good. Remember that. Now then…

I would recommend spending those extra 86 minutes with America’s favorite family. No, not my family, but thanks for the thought. I was leaning more toward the yellow silly family. I already told you I am not talking about mine. The last name of the family I am speaking of begins with “S.” NO, NOT MY FAMILY! I am talking about the Simpsons for G-d’s sake. Yes, that yellow silly family whose name begins with “S!”

First my May twin rebels on me and now you, my faithful reader. Maybe it is a typical Friday after all. Just go see the “Simpsons’ Movie” this weekend. It is with out a doubt the funniest movie I have ever seen in my life or in the last four years, which ever is more realistic. Even a non-fan of the show (does one actually exist?) will love this movie and you really do not need any knowledge of the show to have a great time. If you see it and do not laugh, go to a doctor. You may just be dead.

Happy Friday. Friday Happy.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

I Have a Peeve

I have one simple rule in life that I insist other people follow religiously: only call someone if there is a necessary reason. I hate the phone, HATE IT! The sound a ringing phone makes is like nails on a chalkboard to me. My main motivation in answering the damn thing is to A) get it to stop ringing and B) get on with my life as soon as possible. I curse Bell daily for inventing the damn thing in the first place and cell phones are even worse. I used to be able to escape those cursed inventions just be leaving my home, but no more! Now they have batteries and are free of the chords that once held them captive in my home. But I digress…

If you are brave enough to dial those ten digits to reach me (we have to include area codes for local calls here) then please for the love of G-d have a reason for calling. Is that really too much to ask for? Don’t call with nothing to say; don’t wait for me to start talking to you; don’t ask “who is this” when you are the one calling me; don’t look for me to entertain you; and DO NOT TRY TO SELL ME ANYTHING OR ASK FOR DONATIONS!!! I cannot answer the phone in a good mood because the ringing automatically places me in a bad mood and the odds of getting money out of me are slim (Unless you are the cops. They always get me for some reason. Fear probably.).

The number one type of call I hate are those calls where a person is returning a call you made to them without first listening to the voicemail you left them. Most of the time the message was sent and there is no need for a return call. What reason do they have voicemail if they are not going to use it? I call people and leave a message with everything I had to say for them on their machine even though I hate talking to machines (thus another part of my phonephobia) only to have to go through the entire message again because they called me back too soon. I LEFT A MESSAGE FOR A REASON!!! YOU PAY FOR VOICEMAIL FOR A REASON!!! USE THE DAMN THING!!!!

OK, that might be some residue of a nicfit leaving my body. I feel better now. Call me and we can talk about it….IF YOU DARE! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

SJ's Eight Secret List (Don't Tell)

SJ to the rescue!!! I wanted to blog today yet could not find anything to write about until stumbling to my home away from my home away from home AKA Parenthetically Speaking. Good ole’ (not old) Serena has once again tagged everyone with a mission to list eight things about yourself that most people do not know. Now considering that my mom and boss read this blog, my deepest darkest secrets will remain deep and dark, but there is such an abundance of strangeness within me that I can easily reveal eight things without scaring my family or risking my job.

The Rules as posted are-
Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Here we go:

1. I am cheap: not stingy or selfish, but cheap. We are talking Jack Benny cheap. For a person with no concept of money who is always broke I seem to really hate parting with it. Well, in small doses that is. I have no problem dropping $200 dollars on something stupid yet agonize over spending $20 on something I need. This may be normal for all I know (although it would be the first normal thing I have ever done.)

2. I love movies, but hate going to a theater to see them. I would much rather watch a movie from the comforts of my abode than sit in a crowded theater and miss much of the movie due to talking, babies crying, cell phones ringing, and the constant internal nag of “I paid $10 for this crap?” This may actually be a continuation of number one, but I need eight things so this is officially now number two.

3. I am very conservative for a liberal. The only real thing that makes me liberal is the fact that I choose a conservative lifestyle and refuse to ever let anyone tell me how I should live. I am anti-abortion yet pro-choice. I am for capitol punishment yet want serious controls places upon it. I feel it is used too freely overall, but can see where it is needed. I have yet to like the person in the White House while still holding respect for the office. With inner conflicts like this what else can I be other than a liberal?

4. I am gullible generally.

5. I have no faith in humanity, but tons in human beings. I feel once two or more people get together they lose a sense of self and are capable of anything, but as individuals humans are amazing and wonderful creatures.

6. I believe personally in evolution AND creation. While there is no denying that things evolve, I believe something had to start the ball moving and until I learn otherwise I prefer to believe that it was G-d.

7. I am actually having a hard time coming up with eight things that will not get me fired or written out of the will. Perhaps I am more normal than I thought or I just don’t really hide that much of who I am from that many people. Or I am just lying right now…the world may never know (or it already does.)

8. I can be redundant when not repeating myself or trying to find new ways to say things already said. I can retread over covered ground and I do like restating things. Also, sometimes I can be known to repeat myself or to be redundant, but we will not talk about that right now.

If you are reading this (AND HAVE A BLOG)consider yourself tagged.