And It Turns Your Urine Blue

Dad's out of ICU and doing well, other than being disgusted by the hospital food.

My older sister didn't visit today because she is sick. This despite taking some of that Airborne stuff. How is that possible? That stuff was formulated by a 2nd grade teacher! Who knows germs better than a 2nd grade teacher? How about a 1st grade teacher? How about anybody who took a semester of college biology?

And it has natural ingredients! Can I just point out that everyday I'm flushing natural ingredients. Also, ricin, a lethal poison, is naturally found in castor beans. How did the word "natural" become synonymous with "healthy"?

Why do people spend money on this snake oil? I will tell you why.

Because it's fizzy. People like fizzy.

Happy New Year

Maybe It's Mulva

My mom and my sister have been staying at a hotel near the hospital that my dad is at. There was some discussion of my mom not staying there tonight because of my sister's snoring. The conversation went something like this:

Mom: Well, it's your snoring.
Sister: I snore because I breathe through my mouth.
Dad: Maybe your vulva's in the way.
Sister: What!?
Dad: Your vulva. Maybe the air can't get past it.
(I missed something at this point because I was hysterical with laughter.)
Dad: That thingee at the back of your throat.
Sister: Da-a-ad. That's your uvula.

Later, after the shift change, the night nurse came in. My dad noted that she was there the previous night.

Dad (to nurse): I'm sorry but I forgot your name. I know it started with an M.
Nurse: An M?
Dad: What is it again?
Nurse: Beryl.
Dad: Well, that's close.
Nurse (laughing): How is that close?
Dad: Uhm.....Beryl is my favorite nurse. Did I tell you how nice Beryl is?
Nurse: OK. We'll let that one slide.

Fastest Way To A Man's Heart

Everyone deals with things in different ways. Tomorrow, my dad is having open heart surgery. Here are some of the reactions so far:

• Positivity ("He'll be fine.")
• Empathy ("My grandpa just had that done.")
• Apologizing ("Oh, I'm so sorry!")
• Crying
• Praying
• Mothering ("Should you be eating that before your surgery?")
• Controlling ("Here's what you must do...")
• Supporting ("What can I do to help?")
• Data mining ("Did you know the mortality rate for bypass surgery is only 0.2%?")
• and, of course, Humor ("No. I didn't. But I assume if it was much higher you wouldn't be telling what it was.")

Unfortunately, my favorite will be off limits around Dad; at least until we're sure those stitches will hold.

A Horse Doesn't Change Its Spots

Going in for major surgery, you'd think that being able to hear correctly might come in handy. Where does it hurt? Which foot are we taking off? So, you're here for your sex change? It would be good to answer those correctly.

Me: Did Mom get her appointment changed?
Dad: Mom got on an airplane???

I wonder if he has actually lost his hearing do to some physical problem or maybe it a psychological response to conversations like this:

Mom (watching CNBC): This stock is down from about 15 to less than 5 today.
Me: The results didn't look good with their drug.
Mom: They're probably a one horse pony.

Does my dad really need a triple-bypass? Or did they tell him just tell him he had "a ripply ass"? I sure hope those doctors have all their ducks in a goose.

A Christmas Story

No lighters. Here we go again. Why do people always bring lighters to the airport? Don't they know all the rules?

On the other hand, I am prepared. I have all my liquids in my zip top bag, out and ready to go.

TSA: That toothpaste is too big.
Me: huh?
TSA: I know there's hardly anything in it but the tube is too big.
Me: wha?
TSA: Do you want to take it back and check it.
Me: Uhm, no, just chuck it.

Then he eyes my deodorant. A daymare overcomes me as deodorant is banned from planes. That would be enough, the last straw. Americans will put up the pat downs and the cavity searches but we will not put up with-The Stink. What are we anyway? French?

TSA: Your bag is too big.
Me: My bag?
TSA: You're only allowed a quart-sized bag.
Me: Isn't that quart-sized?
TSA: No. This is a gallon. (he weighs it in his eyes) At least.

Now I'm getting nervous. The bag only holds my deodorant. Is he going to make me throw it away? If so, can I ask to use it one more time because I'm feeling a little sweaty. Is that White Christmas playing over the PA or the theme from Midnight Express?

I got off with a warning.

Arriving in Florida, I went with my parents for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner.

Chinese food.

Eat Sh*t And Have A Merry Christmas

Read closely. He is not the great defeater. He is not the great defector. He is El Caganer, the great defecator. And he can be found defecating in Nativity scenes and on mantle pieces throughout the Catalan region of Spain.

Nothing says "fertility and health" like a great big dump. And what could possibly more complimentary than associating you Lord and Savior with a true Yule Log?

Not only that but "pastry shops around Catalonia sell sweets shaped like feces". You think your sh*t don't stink? Well, it does. Stinks like chocolate and caramel. Or maybe marzipan.

Hey, Javier's crap is bigger than my crap.
No it's not, Paulo.
Liar!
You both have the same size crap. Now stop fighting or I'll eat them and you won't get sh*t.

"[...] on Christmas Eve Catalan children beat a hollow log, called the tio, packed with holiday gifts, singing a song that urges it to defecate presents out the other end."

Many a night I have beat the hollow log until "presents" emerged from the end. Then I carefully wrap the presents in tissue paper...well, tissues,...and hide them where nobody can find them at the bottom of the garbage can.

Oh Yeah! Right There, Christmas Tree

This week on Mythbusters, they tested various methods of keeping the needles on your Christmas tree. The most interesting was adding a crushed Viagra (which, "because kids might be watching" they variously referred to as "Santa's little helper", "Daddy's little helper" and "Mommy's little helper") to the water. Incredibly, this was one of the best at keeping the needles on the tree for the six week test. Unfortunately, the tree turned a sickly color during this time. I'm sure you would too if you kept the needle on your tree for six weeks.

The absolute winner for keeping the needles on was adding bleach to the water. However, this suffered a similar problem of turning the tree a funny color. Although similar to "Santa's little helper" I would warn against you trying to use bleach to turn your softwood into hardwood.

The overall needles-on/color-good winner was: spraying your entire tree with extremely flammable hair spray. Now, combine the hair spray with this* and you've got yourself a winning combo.

(* - Thanks Zimbo!)

I Can't Quit Watching You

The G-Shot Heard 'Round The World

Someone recently told me that "all of the posts" on my blog were about religion. I immediately pointed out my recent post on the G-shot. "I'm sure you'll make that religious, too."

So by request:

Again I tell you, it is easier for a hypodermic needle to pass through a camel toe so that a rich woman can enter the Kingdom of Oh God. Jay 6:5

Happy now?

Can I Fondle Your Subcinctorium?

Jews who are barely religious fast every year for Yom Kippur. No food, no water, no nothing from sunset of one day until sunset the next day. Muslims fast for a whole month during Ramadan. No food, water, smoking or sex from sunrise to sunset of each day. And, of course, there are several other religions that fast for various reasons.

Often the reason is some kind of generic penitence. Maybe you sold a carton of milk after its expiration date. Or maybe you looked at some Internet p*rn. Or maybe you're a lawyer. Whatever your sin, throw it in the Hopper of Redemption and you're all clear.

So, it should not be surprising that a preacher in the Vatican has called for "worldwide day of fasting" to "publicly express sorrow before God and solidarity with the victims."

I have a feeling that most of the abuse victims probably don't think that quite cuts it. A few might say it's a good idea until they found out you said "fasting" not "fisting". Ah well, they can dream, can't they?

Fortunately for those that remain in the Catholic Church, supporting pedophiles and their accomplices and acting as enablers by handing over their money, the new Pope is taking the hard line on this sort of behavior.

Last May, he disciplined the elderly Mexican founder of a Roman Catholic religious group who had been accused of sexual abuse, ordering him to retire to a life of "prayer and penitence."

Ooooh, snap!

At Least It Didn't Rain, Man

Yesterday was our holiday party. Something like 80% of the people in our division attended. Reason most often given for attending: "If this company is giving me something for free and all I have to do is go, I'll take it."

20% of the division did not attend. Reason most often given: "Mingling too high a price to pay."

Welcome to the Asperger Holiday Party, where everyone arrives, talks to the same people they talk to all day, every day and then goes home--almost like there wasn't a party at all.

Did I mention the door prizes? Since our company can't afford to give all its workers a holiday gift of some sort, they had about a dozen items ranging from a $25 gift certificate at Panera Bread (oh please, oh please, oh please!) up to a 32" LCD TV. Given the stampede out the door after the last prize was called, I'd guess most people came just for that.

The other good prize was a DVD/Home Theater System. Unlike the TV, they actually had the box for it at the party. After the guy won and filled out his paperwork (I'm assuming he's going to see that thing show up on his W-2) he started to carry the box off. Our big kahuna division manager/emcee started cracking what I assume were meant to be jokes.

BK: Do you need any help carrying that? I'll carry it for you.
(no response)
BK: It'll fit in my car. I can drop it off at your house.
(no response, the guy is just walking away with the box)
BK: Look at this guy. He doesn't even turn around and pay attention.

The guy was just about to pass me by and I swear I saw him mouth something that looked like "What a d*ck." But, to be honest, it might have been "F*ckin' dick."

As everyone was piling out of the parking lot after the Asperger party, I thought, "Well, at least there won't be any accidents because we're all excellent drivers, yeah, we're excellent drivers."

Hot Button Issue

I'm not sure if you should be reading this post at work. If you are, please keep both hands where I can see them.

The conversation (from recent Dr. 90210 show) went something like this (with info from the website in parenthesis):
("In the consultation process your doctor will educate you on the G-Spot and how to localize it.")
doctor: You're going to go into a private room, insert your finger into your vagina and feel around about 3 inches in on the top for your G-spot.

The patient leaves the current room and then comes back some time later. She is now lying on an exam table, knees bent and legs akimbo. (Man, I hope I'm using "akimbo" correctly. It's such a fun word.)
("You will be positioned on the examination table as if you are “getting a PAP smear” and the doctor will do a pelvic exam and measurement of the G-Spot based upon your direction."
doctor: You know where your G-spot is now?
patient: Yeah, I think.
doctor: OK. I'm going to insert my finger and move it around and your going to tell me the spot is further in or out, left or right. OK?

This guy creeps me out and I don't even have a G-spot.

Now, why is this doctor locating this patient's G-spot? Because she's come in (no pun intended) for a G-Shot. Here's the scoop:

The speculum, which has the location of the G-Spot on it will be inserted into the vagina and then a small needle will be used to deliver a small amount of local anesthetic in the area of the G-Spot. Then the collagen product will be injected.

Yes. The "collagen product".

[...] specifically, a collagen containing compound termed Fascian^™. To make Fascian, fascia is removed, carefully treated and preserved[...]

I imagine houses all across the country are being torn down to harvest their fascia. But actually "Fascian is typically processed gastrocnemius fascia." Gastrocnemius is Latin for "green onions from Taco Bell".

Now that your G-spot is the size of a house (and has the fascia to prove it), and will stay that way for up to 4 months (like 2000 Flushes) what was the point? Well, just look at these testimonials:

“During my spinning class I have this smile on my face and people think that I am enjoying my workout but actually I am sexually aroused.” [I hear ya. I hate spinning class.]

“I was driving down the freeway in LA and talking to my girlfriend from NY on the cell and all of a sudden I started laughing and she asked what I was laughing about and I told her I just got this G-Shot and I had an orgasm while driving” [Liar! Driving in LA. Sheesh.]

“After my G-Shot I get sexually aroused performing yoga” [You're doing it wrong.]

“Thanks to the G-Shot^®, I am always turned on” [So was Vincent from Project Runway.]

“My G-Spot is always present and ready for action at a moments notice” [G-Spot present and accounted for, SIR!]

Hey, if you just paid $1400 for this procedure, you better think something great was happening.

Of course, everything is not cookies and sausages. There can be side effects such as "Mental preoccupation of the G-Spot", 'A feeling of always being “turned on”' (also known as a "testimonial"), "Vesico-vaginal fistula" (banned in 27 states) and "Erosion" (so be aware if you've built a house below your vagina and if it gets knocked down, be sure to harvest its fascia).

It's A Dude Ranch

I had a "conversation" with a friend a couple weeks ago that went something like this.

him: Dude, I finally got this subwoofer I've been wanting for years.
me: Uh huh.
him: Dude, this thing is big.
me: Ok.
him: No. Dude. This thing is big.
me: Yeah, Ok.
him: No. Dude. This. Thing. Is. BIG!
me: Yeah. I got it, dude. Big.

I went over to his place Friday to help him install a plasma TV (early Xmas gift for his wife). After we had it up, I asked to see the subwoofer.

him: That's it.
me: Dude. This thing is big.
him: I told you.
me: No. Dude. This thing is big.
him: I told you it was big.
me: No. Dude. This. Thing. Is. BIG!

He turned on his amps and played something while I stood right in front of it. I think my pants fluttered in the wind. Holy crap. You can not believe this thing and he barely had it on. Here's the website for it, in case your interest is piqued.

Strap On My Feed Bag

Already, I can see that if you subscribe via Bloglines there is a problem. If you're having an issue and you use Firefox 2.0 then go directly to this page and you should be able to subscribe to the correct feed that way.

I don't use IE much but it looks like IE7 has some kind of built in feed service so you can use that same link and click "Subscribe to this feed" near the top.

Part Of An "I'm Coming Unbalanced" Breakfast

I recently switched to the new Blogger beta. Hopefully, you won't notice anything except maybe that it works better/faster than before. If you do notice problems, please let me know. And now, on to the news.

I forgot to put out my garbage yesterday. This is not normally a big deal but I had planned to toss the leftover scrapple in it. I didn't want the scrapple fermenting or decomposing or whatever scrapple would do in an unrefrigerated state.

Coincidently, I started read The Lord of the Rings this week and it's got me thinking. Maybe the scrapple is like the ring. Although disgusted by it, I can't get rid of it. It has too much power. I feel like putting it in my pocketses. One offal loaf to rule them all!

It is bending my mind. I've probably got something like Creutzfeldt-Scrapple disease. Maybe it's just because it's getting late and I still haven't eaten breakfast. I've got an inexplicable urge to toast some scrapple with cinnamon.

Sing it with me:

Scrapple Jacks
Scrapple Jacks
Cinnamon toasty Scrapple Jacks!
You need a good breakfast, that's a fact
Start it with offal Scrapple Jacks
Scrapple Jacks
Scrapple Jacks

Maybe An Advent Calendar Is Next

I'm not sure how making a birth control pill chewable is good for women who are "on the go" since "[w]omen must drink 8 ounces of water with the tablet."

The other big feature of these new chewables, they come in

a credit-card sized dispenser kept inside a velvet pouch, Reichel said. That can be a bit more discreet than the big, "dial packs" in which birth-control pills usually are sold.

No word yet on when they will come out in Flintstones shapes.

The Longest Yarn

It all started a couple months ago...(cue harp music)

I was think that I needed to start using up my Flexible Spending Account (FSA) money. I hadn't used any yet and didn't even remember how much I was putting in it. I checked an old paystub and computed that it was $360 for the year. I knew my contacts were $320 so that left $40.

I needed some meclizine and the only place I can find it in bulk is on the web. It's around $10 for 100 pills vs. the $6-$7 for 8 pills you normally get. I picked out a few more things on the website like ibuprofen, cold medicine, decongestant and when I went to check out, I found that a) I needed to send a copy of my driver's license because I was ordering pseudophedrine and b) I could use the FSA debit card and avoid all the paperwork hassles. I decided to do all that at home, assuming I could find the debit card.

I got home and found 2 cards. One says "Health Savings Account Card" and the other says "Spending Account Card". One is for the FSA and the other for the HSA. I figured the Spending card went with the FSA. So, I took a picture of my driver's license. Then I put all the same crap back into my cart and checked out with the debit card. Lastly, I emailed the DL pic to the online drugstore along with my order number.

Next, I went to order contacts. Uh oh, new price this year. They're now $360 instead of $320. That sucks; I just ordered all that crap and it could have waited until next year. I check but it was too late to cancel. Maybe I should get a half a year's worth of contacts for $200 and buy some prescription sunglasses with the other $120. Hmm, what to do.

A short time later I get an e-mail from the drugstore. My debit card was denied! Suddenly, it's not too late to cancel the order and I do. I order a years worth of contacts for $360.

Back at work, a little research shows that if you have the HSA plan you can't use an FSA debit card so that's why it was denied.

My company sends out an FSA balance statement. My planned yearly FSA deduction is $420. WTF? I check a paystub and sure enough, $35/month. This is really getting annoying. Now I've got $60 still to spend.

I'm at Target and I notice they have meclizine in big 32 count packs for a reasonable amount. I buy a couple packs (all they had), some ibuprofen (500!), cold medicine, decongestant (which I have to get from the pharmacist after showing my DL), the works. You can get a ton of OTC products for $60. Next day at work I submit the receipt to the FSA.

A week or so later I get a snail mail. "You're claim for OTC products has been rejected." Apparently, not only can you not use the debit card but you can't buy OTC products via the FSA if you have an HSA. Son of a b...

OK. Gotta spend this $60 on eye care. I guess I'll try out one of those online places that I wrote about. Of course, I can't find my prescription. I tear through everything, no luck. I call the eye doctor and they send me a copy.

I try the $29 place that my friend used. I'm looking for prescription sunglasses. They have a frame call "clip ins" which look like regular sunglasses. They're $59. Of course, my prescription is too strong for their regular lenses so I need to go for the Extra High Index lenses for an extra $35. Plus $14 shipping so those $29 glasses just went to $110 and I don't even get to try them on. Pass.

I got pretty far at the $39 place. Throw in an extra $9 for tint and $10 for polycarbonate lenses and why do they need my eye doctor's name and phone number? Are they going to call her? "Hey, your patient is ordering some el-cheapo glasses on the web. We just thought you should know. Put some extra lye in his drops next time." Forget that place. I don't need any lye drops.

I finally order from the $9 place, Zenni Optical. I got specs with the magnetic clip shade ($29) plus $20 for the 1.61 index lenses and $9 because of my ridiculous prescription (-8.25/-8.5). $58+$5 shipping.

They arrived today and not from Pakistan (that was the $26 place anyway). They work. They look decent. They don't give me a headache. Not bad for $60. Now, for the FSA...

Jay, Don't Eat It! - An Homage

Those of you that read TheSneeze regularly are aware and probably a little disappointed with the lack of posts lately. I know I am. Worse is that the last "Steve, Don't Eat It!" post, arguably his funniest stuff, was over a year ago. I decided it was time to stop moping and do something about it.

My first thought was to re-visit Vol. 5 - Breast Milk. That plan quickly got Bronskied as my current girlfriend, Manolita de Palma, is udderly incapable of expressing herself in that manner. (If you're groaning at the four jokes in that previous sentence, you're in for a long read.)

"What kind of crap can I eat for this post?" I scoured the grocery store until I found the perfect crap. So perfect, "crap" is its middle name. But then there was this ominous sign:
But that's ridiculous because you can't use contractions in Scrabble!

Now, you might think that Scrapple is made from scabs, crap and apples and you wouldn't be far off. You can make it yourself if you slaughter animals at your house, have a horrible relationship with your butcher or are simply insane. Or, you can pick up a loaf like this one. It's the real McCoy.
Let's take a closer look at those ingredients.
Pork livers, pork skins, pork tongues, pork hearts, pork clovers and new pork diamonds! Sounds like that Swedish chef from the muppets. Pork, pork, pork!

I was expecting instructions along the lines of "Throw this crap away and do not eat under any circumstances!" but no such luck. Basically, you slice it up, fry it up and eat it up (and probably throw it up).

Step 1: Slice it up. It kind of looks like Halvah and smells like that chair your spinster aunt sits on without her underwear.

Step 2: Fry it up. 8 minutes a side, please. This gives you ample time to get a bucket.
Hey, look how much better it looks fried if you use a flash. Similar effect if you poke your eyes out.

Step 3: Eat it up. Wikipedia suggests it is normally eaten as a side dish to eggs and is eaten plain or with ketchup, maple syrup, dark corn syrup or apple butter. I decided to try the first three: plain, ketchup and maple syrup (because what goes better on pork than syrup?)

OK. So here's my plate. A couple eggs over-medium, three slabs of scrapple, some warm maple syrup and ketchup. Bon voyage! I mean, Bon appetit!

First the plain. The first thing you notice is that fried scrapple looks almost exactly like a potato pancake. It also tastes like a potato pancake. One that someone dropped on the street and a dog pissed on. If I eat a piece with some egg at the same time, it is completely different. Now it tastes like a potato pancake that was dropped on the street, pissed on by a dog and has egg on it. Texture-wise, the outside is crispy while the inside is like unset concrete.

Ketchup. This shouldn't be too bad. It's almost like eating a hot dog with ketchup. Right?

Wrong! Go lick your shower drain clean. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Now, do it again with ketchup. There you have it. The only difference is my shower drain is made with pigs tongues so it licks back.

Oh. Dear. Lord. Maple syrup. Now, I realize that some breakfast sausage is made with maple syrup so maybe this won't be so bad.

No. No. I'm wrong. It's bad. I'm not sure I can keep this down. Maybe I can wedge it in my esophagus with a bunch of the eggs. Imagine eating French toast out of a horse's ass. That's the experience.It is imperative that everyone reading this join a religion that would not allow them to eat this.

Now, if you'll please excuse me, I'd like a little privacy while I worship.

Need To "Nip This In The Butt"

Rep. elect Keith Ellison has apparently decided to be sworn into Congress on the Koran. And some radio host, Dennis Prager, has, apparently, decided that there are too many people like me around (and by that I mean people who have never even heard of Dennis Prager) so he's making a stink of it and now it's turned into quite a sh*t storm.

This story is almost completely uninteresting. It's the comments that make the story. I didn't even get through reading half of them but here were a couple of favorites:

To Texas Aggie Atheist:

"There should not be ANY religious book at a swearing-in ceremony. They're ALL books of fiction."

The Koran is; as is, the rhetoric of the book of Atheism, but not the Holy Bible. If it were fiction, why are there theological universities that students go to, to learn about the Bible and different events that went on before, during, and after Christ and get degrees on the subject of Christianity? Why do professors have advanced degrees in religion to which some are pastors of churches? Your claim that the Bible is fiction is way off base because if you go to a Christian book store (which you won't anyway) you will find the Bible in the NON-FICTION section. Any book of Atheists you won't find in a Christian book store. Believe or not believe what you want; but there are atheists who have done a total metamorphosis and have become Christians and not those doing the opposite.

Posted by: Duh! | Dec 1, 2006 4:02:20 PM

--------------------------------------------------------------------

this just the begining.the american people need to nip this in the butt asap or we will end up like france and germany and soon to be england.this means we will be on our knees six times a day our face death for not being good little nazi oh i mean muslims

Posted by: KD,TX. | Dec 1, 2006 3:49:10 PM

--------------------------------------------------------------------

[...]
I believe the liberals are more than paranoid to the point that they think this is a ultra-conservative plot being pushed by Bible-belters. How about the left's big push on abortion rights, banning ALL firearms (hey, the Second Amendment, morons), condoning alternate lifestyles (rapists, perverts, child molesters, etc..) - I think you get the drift. I can see why the ultra-conservatives are on the warpath.
[...]
Posted by: Get a Life | Dec 1, 2006 5:30:01 PM

And my favorite:

I can't believe how many of you don't know how to spell

Posted by: Astonished | Dec 1, 2006 7:54:24 PM

I Come In Faith

I'm carrying a bag from Target when I notice the warning label. I've seen it before but this time I really took notice.

WARNING: To avoid danger of suffocation, keep this plastic bag away from babies and children. Do not use this bag in cribs, carriages, beds or playpens.

The first line is trying to prevent lawsuit by people with no common sense. The second line is trying to prevent lawsuits by people too ignorant to know that cribs and playpens are associated with babies and children.

And maybe, like me, you're thinking: Lawyers! F*cking lawyers. God damn lawyers.

Then it hit me. It's not the lawyers; it's the religious nuts. But they're not nuts. They're ignorant and unquestioning in their faith. Carbon dating is flawed. The world has only been around for 5000 years. Touching the flesh of swine is an abomination unto God...well, until 2000 years when God changed his mind. The theory of evolution is just a theory and an incorrect one at that. Says so right there in Genesis.

These are the kind of people who would puts bags in cribs for their babies to play with. Without those warning labels there would be a lot less zealots making more zealots. But that would be bad for the churches, because they make a living off the zealots ignorance. The churches, however, are not lead by ignorant zealots but by con men. These con men know they need as many zealots as possible so they got some lawyers (probably Jewish lawyers) to sue everybody about bags, hot coffee or wearing your seatbelt; anything that common sense would normally protect against, they wanted to be doubly sure.

It's a brilliant plan. Keep those zealots reproducing while all the negative crap gets blamed on lawyers and Jews.

Now you'll excuse me, I've got a case of the hiccups.

Mr. Cookie

There is no Veggie Monster.

Yesterday's lunch was interrupted with the disturbing report by a colleague that Sesame Street was renaming Cookie Monster to Veggie Monster to promote better eating habits. That appears to be nonsense.

Much better would be to change Cookie's name to Veggie and Grain Monster. And I have just the thing for him made almost entirely of oats, wheat, sugar cane, cocoa, soy and peanuts. Wait, do legumes count as veggies? How about Veggie, Grain and Legume Monster? Yeah, catchy.

Merkin - Beard

This is embarrassing but for almost 20 years I've been browsing the Weddings/Engagements page of the Sunday paper and for the worst possible reason.

I just happened to look at the page one day and I saw Jane White and John Rice and the headline: White - Rice. I'm making up those first names but the last names are real. Thus started my quest for interesting name combinations and that's why I check the page every Sunday. I will note that I have never run across another interesting combination since White - Rice.

This past Sunday, I'm doing my normal browse when a picture catches my eye. Could that be? I check and the announcement confirms it. Charles and Keith got married. Now, maybe if you live in NYC or Massachusetts seeing an announcement for two men getting married is old hat but here in the Bethlehem, Nazareth and Emmaus (trust me, it's one of those cities, or don't trust me) area this is a big deal.

It took me a few seconds before I noticed that the headline for the happy gay couple was Frank - Baggs.

Holy Sh*t

Almighty Cleanse.

What in the world could that be? Well, if nothing else it is the greatest infomercial ever.

Unfortunately, I missed about half. In the half I did see, the guy being interviewed, Danny Vierra, quoted Bible verses about Jesus curing blindness using mud and his spit and Isaiah telling someone to cure puss sores on his groin by holding figs on them (which is not quite what it says in Isaiah 38).

Then he somehow tied these verses into the need to use the Almighty Cleanse (noisy link) to stimulate "your digestive system to cleanse from within" and draw "toxins out of your system". Brilliant!

A quick look at the ingredients shows that these products might actually do something. Part 1 contains senna which acts as a laxative (think Senokot). Part 2 contains psyllium which is used as a bulk-prodiing laxative and fiber supplement (think Metamucil).

But the idea to combine religion and snake oil is brilliant. Both rely on people who refuse to do any critical thinking.

If you found your way here looking for information on whether you need this product, ask yourself this question: Does God give a sh*t about what's in your colon?

I Could Only Feel More Secure If I Was Wearing A Maxipad With Wings

It's 2am. My alarm, wait that should be alarms, won't go off until 3:30 but I don't think I'll get back to sleep. I'm right.

I head out to Newark with my plastic bag full of 3 oz. or less bottles. That includes my contact lenses which are a kind of gel immersed in liquid and a definite threat to a plane.

I arrive at the security line around 5:30am. There's not many people at the airport, mostly older folks, because they can't sleep anyway. Apparently, they don't fly much either.

Security: You need to take off your shoes.
Old guy: Heh?
Security: YOUR SHOES. TAKE THEM OFF.
Old guy: My shoes?
Security: YES. THEY NEED TO BE X-RAYED.

And they don't hear so well. I can afford to be patient since I'm early. I watch the poor old guy try to untie his shoes and I'm thinking, "That's why they make those velcro shoes."

Security: YOUR COAT.
Old guy: Heh?

If my flight was at 5:55 instead of 6:55 it wouldn't have been so funny.

I go through and the security guy asks, "Is this your bag?" He's pointing at my regular bag, not the one with all my little liquid bottles. I figure I must have forgotten something. He brings the bag over to the stainless steel inspection station. There is another guy sitting at the far end of the table trying to put his shoes back on.

Security: Do you have a lighter in your bag?
Me: No.
Security: The X-ray showed something that looked like a lighter.
Other guy (slurring and obviously drunk at 5:30am): They won letyu have no lighter.
While the security guy relieves my luggage of the hiccups, the drunk guy continues.
Other guy: Noheven one.
Other guy: Tookem all five uvamine.
It's hard not to laugh. The guy going on and on about his lighters. I know you're not supposed to joke around in the airport security area but this is too much. Luckily, the security guy pulls out what he thinks was mistaken for the lighter.
Security: What's this?
Me: It's a hairbrush.

I should note that it is a folding hairbrush and at first glance, it's not apparent what it is.
Other guy: Your lucky snot a ligher.

A security guard who was really on the ball should take one look at me and ask "What do you need a hairbrush for?" but luckily this is Newark, where bombs get through but not hairbrushes and certainly not lighters. And I was on my way.

P.S. I came home on a late flight and arrived at my house close to 1am.

At 3:30am, the two alarms I forgot to turn off when I left woke me up.

Read This Blog, Only $25/day!

I am officially declaring the parking situation at Newark Airport out of control. A quick look at the on-airport parking shows rates rates ranging from $36/day for valet, $24/day for what most people call the monorail lots and $15/day for the "BFE*, take the bus and hope you actually make your flight" lot.

The prices for the monorail lot and BFE lot are now double (were $12 and $8, respectively) from what they were in the 1998/1999 time frame.

Reasons?

• Security - F*ck you, there is no more (nor need for more) parking security than 8 years ago. I've already blogged about the rest of their crack (maybe on crack) security team
• New parking garages - F*ck you, there's no parking garage in the monorail or BFE lot. Charge whatever the f*ck you want in the garage.
• Other airport projects - F*ck you, there are already taxes and fees up the wazoo for those and they have nothing to do with parking
• Port Authority ridiculous salaries, subsidies for other PA projects and the dumb ass leasing agreement with Newark (note how the previous agreement was valid until 2031!) - That's a lot of f*ck you's

Of course, I don't park at the airport.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

* - definition (may not be work safe)

Break One And It's 2000 Years Of Bad Luck

You may have heard that Toys for Tots turned down a donation of talking Jesus dolls a few days ago. In explaining their reasoning, the VP of the foundation said, "We can't take a chance on sending a talking Jesus doll to a Jewish family or a Muslim family."

"I believe as a churchgoing person, anyone can benefit from hearing the words of the Bible," said the clearly impartial head of business development for the talking Jesus doll company.

Today, they repented and said "Toys for Tots has found appropriate places for these items." Although they did not say where these dolls were destined, yours truly has discovered that it will be here. All the dolls are being reprogrammed to groan in Aramaic.

Also, a Danish company is rumored to be working on a similar Mohamed doll however it is not considered offensive enough to release.

Jazz Hands

Unsurprisingly, only 2 people responded to the "How often do you masturbate?" poll from a few days ago.

Surprisingly, the answers they gave were "Always" and "Most of the time". On one hand, you would think that people masturbating that much wouldn't have time for a poll at all. On the other hand, maybe this just shows their passion for the subject. Or maybe they have three hands, so answering a poll really doesn't interfere.

Do I hear applause?

A Crowning Achievment

It's been a while since I had a good post about the restroom (some might say I've never had a good post about the restroom but they're just critics). So, on to the john.

As I've previously described, the closest bathroom to my cube contains two urinals and two stalls (one tiny, one expansive). It was a few weeks ago that, sitting in the big stall, I noticed someone walked into the tiny stall, did a kind of pirouette, then left without, umm, using the facilities. I thought that was a bit strange.

Last week I went into the bathroom to find the big stall taken. Usually, I'd either return later or use a bathroom further away but that day things were a bit urgent so I decided to just suck it up (so-to-speak) and use the tiny stall. I found the reason for the pirouette. The lock did not work. I puckered down the hall to the other bathroom.

That brings us to today. I'm leisurely riding high on the big throne in the big stall when someone came in and walked into the tiny stall. They tried several times to get the latch to work. I waited for the pirouette but was surprised when they dropped trow and sat down. I could tell by the floor shadow that their door was ajar.

Someone else came in to use a urinal. "Squeeeeeak" went the door as the guy slowly pushed it closed. His arms weren't quite long enough though. He couldn't keep it pinned. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. I started laughing that closed-mouth, snorty, quiet kind of laugh. Squeak. Squeak.

I told myself it wasn't funny.

Squeak. Squeak. Then, resignation. The door was ajar again. I couldn't take it anymore.

It's not often you leave a bathroom because you think you're going to explode.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

"[...] Highs and lows make you feel that things matter, but they're nothing."

"So what's something?"

"Being reliable is something. [...]"

Do Polls Rub You The Wrong Way?

Based on a recent comment, I thought I'd try my hand at this poll thing. Here's what came out:

How often do you masturbate?
	Always
	Most of the time
	Seldom
	Never
Free polls from Pollhost.com

On a completely unrelated topic, what's with the jumping robot during Fox NFL games?

Remember, Remember

For those that did not attend a Guy Fawkes party this past week, here's the kind of thing you missed:

A 22-year-old man suffered internal injuries after lighting a small firecracker he had inserted into his buttocks

I did my best to try and find the pictures on the Web but without luck.

This was the closest I could find.

Not An Abortion Post

The tax man doesn't cometh.

Or, if you're not a eunuch, cover your mousy dong with one of these.

I have rewritten an Irish lullaby to commemorate Bangalore's new name.

Bengalu-galuru
Bangalore has died
Bengalu-galuru
You can kiss your job good-bye

Senator John McCain continues his move to the right by quitting the board of Gallaudet, a deaf liberal arts school.

The Abortion Post

If you're reading for the humor, this is not a post for you.

I was browsing through some of the exit poll questions (from the Casey/Santorum race) and ran across this one:

ABORTION SHOULD BE...

TOTAL	Santorum	Casey, Jr.
Always Legal (24%)	16%	84%
Mostly Legal (35%)	28%	72%
Mostly Illegal (24%)	59%	41%
Always Illegal (14%)	72%	28%

I'll ignore the obvious part of the numbers (more legal means more Casey, more illegal means more Santorum, duh). I'd like to know if that was the way the the question/answers were worded. Do 24% and 14% of the people surveyed really think that "Abortion should be "always legal" or "always illegal"? Do people understand the meaning of the word ALWAYS.

Who thinks abortions should be legal late in the ninth month of pregnancy?

And who thinks ectopic pregnancies should be illegal to abort?

So what's the deal? Do people not think about stuff like this? Do people not understand the difference between "Mostly" and "Always"? Or are they answering a different question?

Stick Out Your Neck Hole

Just got my flu shot. Looking at last year's post on this subject I note no adverse reaction to the shot but a certain predilection for Shakespearean post titles.

As I walk in to the shooting room, people walking out (actually, only the men walking out) are either tucking their shirts back in or putting them back on. I'm wearing a mock turtleneck shirt today. I push the sleeve up to expose most of my triceps but that's about it. I ask wear the shot needs to go. "In the [something] deltoid," says the guy giving the shot.

Fortunately, I'm skinny and my shirt is stretchier than expected and I pop my shoulder up through the neck hole a little.

Me: "That enough?"
Shooter: "Fine."
(pause as he uncaps the needle)
Shooter: "You're gonna feel a little prick."
Me: "Like Mark Foley."
(pause for the shot)
Shooter: "That's a light colored shirt. Do you want a Band-Aid?"

Hopefully my reaction to the shot will be the same as the shooter's reaction to my joke.

To Be By Or Not To Be By

Has it started happening yet?

I only briefly tuned into election coverage and it looked like, as predicted, the Democrats would take control of the House. Once this is conclusive, I expect House Republicans to start calling for the Democrats to be bisexual and "work across the aisle" and all that nonsense--just like the Democrats did 2 and 4 years ago.

You can usually tell winners from losers using the bisexual test. Losers almost always want to be bisexual. Don't confuse this with someone claiming they will be bisexual before the election. Those people have a different title. They are liars. Unless, of course, they lose, in which case their call to be bisexual will be even more vociferous. No, no, they are still liars, because before the election they claimed to be bisexual and after they want their opponents to be bisexual.

Update: Apparently, the auto-spell check/correct knows the word "partisan" but if you preface it with the letters "b" and "i", it gets corrected to "bisexual". Also, just "b" followed by an "i" gets corrected to the word "by". My apologies to my readers but at least now you can understand what I was trying to say.

Fat Bottom Girls Make Pastors Go "Around The World"

Although it is meant seriously, this is the funniest thing I've seen on the Haggard story. Here's a snippet but you really, really, really, need to read the whole post.

Most pastors I know do not have satisfying, free, sexual conversations and liberties with their wives. At the risk of being even more widely despised than I currently am, I will lean over the plate and take one for the team on this. It is not uncommon to meet pastors’ wives who really let themselves go; they sometimes feel that because their husband is a pastor, he is therefore trapped into fidelity, which gives them cause for laziness. A wife who lets herself go and is not sexually available to her husband in the ways that the Song of Songs is so frank about is not responsible for her husband’s sin, but she may not be helping him either.

That's Not Egg On His Face

OK. Just from the title you should realize this post is about pastor Haggard (adjective - a : wild in appearance b : having a worn or emaciated appearance).

"There is part of my life that is so repulsive and dark that I've been warring against it all of my adult life,"

says Haggard in a letter. What he means is that he finds himself repulsive and that if he can make others feel worse about themselves then, relatively, he'll feel better.

His wife said that

while her heart is broken, she remains "committed to him until death do us part."

"Committed" being the operative word there. Wake up lady, your husband is gay. And not like the nineties. Unfortunately, she's not allowed to think for herself. The Bible tells her what to do, like a Stepford Wife. You will forgive. You will not put anything asunder that God has joined. You will only cast a first stone if you are without sin. Try joining the Church of Self Respect.

And while the accuser says he came forward, um, I mean, he came clean, um, I mean, he went public because he couldn't stand the hypocrisy of Haggard supporting a Colorado Constitutional Amendment limiting marriage to be between one man and one woman, I don't see the hypocrisy there. If Haggard wanted to marry Jones, that would be hypocrisy. If Haggard was supporting an Amendment that prohibited married men from having sex with male prostitutes, that would be hypocrisy.

There's probably a word for a man who heads a church, supports an amendment to prevent gays from marrying and has sex with a male prostitute. I'm sure there's one in German. If there's not already one in English, Haggard sound good.

Tip #2: Bring Paper Towels

I ran today, nearly 9 miles. The weather was very nice, maybe a bit cold (41 degrees F when I started). The place I run is also a bridle path. I didn't see any horses today but clearly I had just missed them, and that brings me to my

Running Tip of the Day

When running on a cold day, there are many tricks to getting/staying warm: wearing a hat, wearing dark clothes, running in the sun vs. the shade. I don't think these will come as a surprise to anyone.

Jay's Tip #1 - If you happen to be running on a bridle path, the second grossest way to obtain some temporary warmth is to run near freshly deposited horse manure.

The grossest way, I assure you, is to trip while trying to use Jay's Tip #1.

And Winner Of The Most Offensive Award Show Is...

Latinos once again dominated the Latin Grammys when winners were announced last night.

The Latin Grammys have been dominated over the past several years by people like Colombian singer Shakira and Herve Villachaize (who is actually French but often mistaken for Mexican).

Non-Latino musicians rallied today against what they called a "clear and unambiguous prejudice" against them in the awards. "It's like they don't even consider us," complained a clearly offended Peter Frampton who came alive as he spoke.

Asked why there have been no protests before--even though this was the 7th year that Latinos have swept the awards--spokesman Johnny Mathis began, "Chances are..." but was cut-off as angry protesters started yelling racial slurs, such as "Hey, bring me a taco!" and "Do you have chimichangas?" at workers heading into the restaurant across the street.

The manager at the Taco Bell had no comment.

Look At The Glass As One-Eleventh Full

This news article states that in 22 recent tests where they attempted to sneak fake bombs (or other devices) through security at Newark Airport, only 2 were caught and the others got through. Many people will harp on how much money has been spent on security with little to show for it. Many will exclaim that we need to spend more on people/equipment/training. Many will say that this is exactly why we need to vote for Republicans/Democrats (as my wise grandmother often said, they're all crooks).

If we assume that there are plenty of imbeciles ready to meet their 70+ virgins*, and if we assume they are in the country, and if we assume they can get/make explosives then why aren't planes exploding out of the sky?

So what is the TSA doing about the security at Newark? Don't they are vigorously investigating and will certainly find the problem...the person who leaked the story.


* - I've got to point out that this is the one of the stupidest religious enticements ever. To paraphrase "It's the eternity, stupid!" With a finite number of virgins, the percentage of time spent deflowering approaches zero. Alternatively, you can spend eternity with virgins by not f*cking them but that sounds like it would be hell.

You Won't Believe Your Eyes

Long ago there were $39 glasses.

Then came $29 glasses. (A friend bought from there and seems satisfied.)

Then there was the $26 glasses. Here's a funny comment from someone who bought from there: (source)

Comments: The package was unusual and shipped from Packistan [sic]. It was cloth that was sewn shut with what looked to be a wax seal. Not bad, just unusual. The case was the cheapest plastic one I have ever seen. I don't care really, just pointing it out. The cloth inside was FILTHY and that is the only thing that really annoyed me about this order. The glasses are good. I ordered glass and they are a bit heavier than my wife is used to, but they do have plastic also I just picked the top choice which is glass. The lenses seem to be thinner for the same RX. Not sure if that is glass vs. plastic or what. They replied back to my e-mails very quickly. The tracking they provide is "it is shipped". The package required a signature, so be aware of that as at least my postal guy is too lazy to come to the door and just sticks the note in the box which delays it at least a day.... But the speed and cost on this one far exceeds the small annoyance of a dirty rag.

And then came $19 glasses. Comments such as "What kind of crap can you get for $19?" and "The price os glasses is dropping faster than our stock!" were heard. But this company did not stand still, introducing $16 glasses, $13 glasses and, yes, believe it, $9 glasses. That's frames, polycarbonate lenses, UV and scratch coating! OK, OK, plus $5 shipping. And they're eligible to be paid for via pre-tax Flexible Spending Account. So, if you're in a high tax state, it's like they are paying you to buy their glasses!

I don't even think you can make glasses this cheap with slave labor. I mean, slaves need to be fed and clothed and housed. Hmmm, maybe child slave labor, they're smaller and don't eat so much...

BTW - I have no affiliation with any of these sites. I don't get any kickbacks from them or anything like that. I DO find them strangely fascinating.

What Is The Sound Of One Hand Speaking?

It's a culture clash of 1960's proportions. Earlier in a silent coup, the President was overthrown. What wasn't reported was that I. King Yoo (no relation to former President, I. King Jordan), who is not deaf, was caught drinking out of a "deafs only" water fountain. Reaction spread across the Gallaudet campus like the Wave at a football game and could be seen from hundreds of feet away. One passer-by said of the scene, "It was so loud I was nearly blinded."

Protests have been going on around the clock. Some people have complained that the visual noise has kept them awake until they shut their eyes.

Some have suggested that the Deaf need a country of their own. Instead of a name, the country could be denoted with an unpronouncable symbol. I suggest the symbol formerly used by the artist formerly known as "the artist formerly known as Prince".

Where is blind culture?
Stand up if you support wheelchair culture.
Don't like hermaphrodite culture? Go f*ck yourself!

Deaf culture? Within 50 years it'll be "Hear today, gone tomorrow."

Vee Vere Speaking Of Daisies, Ya

Since I have no funny stories I have to resort to stealing them from people I know.

Speaking of which, someone I know is currently working with one of customers in Germany. He is often part of the same lunch group as me and almost as often exclaims "Oh, here we go" when the conversation, almost inevitably, veers off the tracks of normality and into the weeds of uncertainty.

Here's how things are going for him:

I'm beginning to miss the lunch talk, never thought that would be possible. All the system test guys talk German all day long, except when they're talking to me or the Indian contractors. So at lunch they talk German and then look at me at the end of the lunch hour and then tell me what topic they were talking about the whole time. There's also a pecking order for lunch. Apparently I can't say "hey, let's go to lunch". If I do, the answer is always "not yet". I have to wait for my host to get a phone call from his manager telling him it's lunch time, and then he calls me and we all meet in the lobby. Every one has to wait in the lobby until the manager shows up for lunch, or until he calls and tells everyone they can go without him. At the end of lunch, the manager is always the first one to stand up and leave.

Or sometimes they don't call me at all. The pecking order is such that the person who has just been asked to go to lunch by his superior then has the option of asking somebody below him to join, or not.

[stolen with permission]

Can't Read What You Don't Have

Less and less, people are reading the newspaper these days. Some people say it's because newspapers are out of touch with the younger generation. Some say people don't have the time. Some say it's because of TV or all the news channels.

From a personal standpoint, I'm reading it less because it's not being delivered. I've been getting, no, wait, I was supposed to be getting the paper delivered on weekends the last 4 weeks. I've already had to call 3 times because of non-delivery. Today the CSR told me, "I'll give you a credit for the missing paper." Newsflash: If I didn't want to pay for the paper each week I wouldn't subscribe.

And if things don't change next week, you can add me to the list of people no longer reading the paper.

Update:(10/30) Coincidently, an article about this came out today.

Whole Lotto Nothing

Here are a few things I've learned over the past 30 or so years:
Many engineers are dumber than an average person.
Many doctors are dumber than an average person.
Many dentists are dumber than an average person.
Should I go on?
How about many professors/tutors are dumber than an average person.

MOST of us believe winning lotto is down to the luck of the draw.

But a syndicate of university professors and tutors in Britain thought it could also be related to the principles of mathematical probability.

Wow! What brilliant insight! Mathematical probability! I see a Nobel prize in their future.

"We just weren't winning with the numbers being picked that way, so we thought of a different method which would mean all 49 numbers would be used,' Mr Waterhouse said.

Of course! Using every number guarantees that you will always have the winning numbers. Well, unless they're on different tickets but how often can that happen? How can you lose?

"We just thought that if all the numbers are in use, we must have a good chance of winning and it has proved so[...]"

Kids Say The Darndest Things

This quote from, I'm embarrassed to say, the show Wife Swap. The 9 year-old son responded with this when told by the new mom/wife (Shannon) that he couldn't wear black clothes for the week.

If you're gonna make us wear bright clothes, oh, life is so flowers and sausages. We can wear the clothes we want to. If you're gonna make us wear light clothes, I'm gonna wear a shirt that says "F*ck off, Shannon" if I can.

I can actually imagine that a person lived on the border of Germany and the Netherlands might use that saying "life is so flowers and sausages" quite a bit, but I think these people were in California.

This is the TV show equivalent of Gibble's Potato Chips.

This Article Contains 0 g Trans Fat

I don't eat potato chips very often and when I do, I like to try something new. Well, new to me, at least. A few weeks ago I bought some Gibble's. And hey, bonus, 0g trans fats!

They're actually very tasty but occasionally one tastes, I don't know, a bit off. Let's check those ingredients.

potatoes, prime processed lard, salt and TBHQ. Lard? Why on earth do they use lard? Oh, hey, they even explain that.

Do you realize that, commonly, to produce vegetable oil, seeds must be roasted, steel rolled and flooded with hexane solvent to extract the oil, which is then treated with lye, neutralized with hydrochloric acid, filtered through diatomaceous earth, and deodorized under high temperature?

Lard is a rich naturally stable fat, rendered from pork, that provides the true homestyle flavor that most people prefer. Pure energy. Simple and delicious.

Wow! Lard sounds great!

I thought I'd try my hand writing an enticing paragraph for a vegetable oil based chip.

Did you know that, commonly, to produce lard, pigs are first stunned by an electric shock to either side of their neck, then their throats are slit until they bleed to death, they are butchered and the parts considered unfit for eating are heated in giant vats that smell like the mass graves of Srebenica and the liquid that comes out is treated with tertiary butylhydroquinone?

Clearly, I have missed my calling.

Foley Operators Make Weird Noises

From the feedback I get, it seems the posts people enjoy most are the ones where life sh*ts on my new shirt. With this in mind I bring you my travails of the past couple days with my crashed hard drive.

Sorry, I must cut that post short as the Foley story is too good to pass up. I take you live to the Island of Gozo...

[...] the priest said it wasn't abuse because Foley "seemed to like it."

We were just fondling.

It's not like I was IMing him or something.

"See abuse, it's a bad word, you know, because abuse, you abuse someone against his will. But it involved just spontaneousness, you know?"

Mr. Mackey, mkay, says fondling is bad, mkay. Like drugs, mkay. Drugs are bad, mkay.

"I would say that if I offended him, I am sorry, but to remember the good time we had together, you know?" he said. "And how really we enjoyed each other's company. And to let bygones be bygones. Don't keep dwelling on this thing, you know?"

Yes, remember the good times. Any time you need a friend. Good times. Not getting hassled, not getting hustled. Keeping your head above water, making a wave when you can. Temporary layoffs. Good times.

There is much, much more. I cannot quote it all. I close with the Vatican's response:

A Vatican spokesman said that if Foley's allegations are true, "we participate in the pain that this deplorable situation has caused."

"We trust in the competent ecclestial [sic] authorities to investigate and clarify the events that have been reported," said Father Federico Lombardi.

What Does A Million's Book Look Like?

Come with me on a trip back to late August (cue harp music)...

Before I left for Germany, I had been talking to someone (let's call him Chuck) about the upcoming trip. As I recall, he had been to Germany before and offered to let me borrow a phrase book. A week later I left for Germany without ever receiving the book.

Three weeks later I got back to work and found on my chair a German phrase book. No note, no nothing. Oh well. After a couple of days, I went by Chuck's cube. Since he wasn't around I returned the favor and the book, leaving it on his chair.

That was 3 weeks ago. Today, I ran into another friend (let's call him Million). We discussed the latest rumors at work, the usual stuff. Then he floored me with this:

Million: Did you get that German book I left you?
Me: You?
Million: Yeah, I left you a book on your chair but I think you had already left for Germany.
Me: Uh, yeah, I got it when I got back but I thought someone else had left it and I gave it back to them.

Million didn't seem bothered. I don't think he has any plans to go to Germany soon. On the other hand, I felt like an idiot. I headed over to Chuck's cube. He wasn't there but the book was sitting on his desk.

I could have left a note but at least now either three people have an interesting story about a German phrase book, or two do and one thinks he's losing his mind.

Those Crazy Canucks

I'm currently reading Rogue Messiahs - Tales of Self-Proclaimed Saviors by Colin Wilson. I just read through the account of Roch (aka Rock aka Moses) Theriault. Wikipedia gives you an idea of how f*cked up this guy was. (The account in the book is much longer and more graphic, nearing Aztec proportions.)

[...] Theriault was probably delusional and may have actually believed he could do miracles. In particular, he once tried to resurrect a woman he had killed by sawing the top off her corpse's skull and masturbating into the cavity.

Probably?! Are there non-delusional people that do this?

I am so looking forward to speaking to the next religious zealot that knocks on my door.

That Deer Came Right Through The Windshield

Even the least sexist person in the world would admit that when it comes to shooting warm fluid all over the windshield of a car, men have a big advantage over women. Well, some men only have a small advantage but most of them have Corvettes.

Well, that advantage has vanished with this nifty invention. If you want to really piss a man off, install one on his Vette.

Enough With The Hiccups

I have discovered another cure for hiccups. Just for a second, consider the cure offered in a previous post. Shazam! Hiccups gone.

Two Posts With The Flimsiest Thread Between Them

I've been waiting for the Pope to officially get rid of limbo but it appears that decision has been delayed for at least a year. Jamacians and drunk Spring Breakers rejoice!

So, without any religious stuff to make fun of, let's take time out for a tech gadget break. I bring you the LASER TV! I assume it is perfect for getting stoned and watching Pink Floyd The Wall.

Kirk: Let Me Help You With Those Hiccups, Scotty

If I read this correctly, Scottish males may be more fertile than female engineers.

"[...] when they were ovulating [...] They tend to put on skirts instead of pants, show more skin and generally dress more fashionably"

Does Starkist Want Chocolate With Good Taste?

I could have sworn I posted this while I was in Germany. Please embarass me by pointing out the post if I did.

How can you tell whether you've stepped in melted chocolate or in dog poop?

I can say from experience that sometimes, only the smell reveals the answer.

Don't Shake Hands With A Person Who Recently Had Hiccups

I get the hiccups about once every 3 or 4 weeks. I usually use the "hold your breath" method to get rid of them and that works for me.

In thinking about hiccups, I realized that I never get hiccups while I'm at work. And now I know why:

Termination of intractable hiccups with digital rectal massage

Apparently, being at work is similar to receiving a "digital rectal massage". Who would've guessed that?

BTW - The people who found this cure were awarded an IgNobel this year.

I'm Gonna Be Rich

I'm now receiving about 1000 spam a week. Almost all to an email address that does not appear in a Google search but was used by at least 2 different people as their "spam" address. Interestingly, both these people are from California. The first one started, and stopped, many years ago. The second started last year, using the address for his taxes, a tux rental and who knows what else. I found him based on the tux rental address and his MySpace account and he has also stopped using the address. But the damage is done.

Yahoo! does a good job screening out the spam but sometimes one or two will sneak through the filter. Here's the one that tricked the filters today:

From:"zebview@terra.es"
Subject: funds transfer from swiss bank,$14 million dollars

DEAR SIR,

I AM CONTACTING YOU ON BUSINESS TRANSFERING MONEY INTO
YOUR BANK ACCOUNT.

I AWAIT YOUR RESPONSE, SO I CAN GIVE YOU MORE DETAILS ABOUT
THIS TRANSACTION.

REGARDS,

MR MICHAEL DEROBERT.

Is there actually a person smart enough to use a computer and read e-mail but still dumb enough to respond to this?

OK, you already know the answer. I responded (shouting, of course).

DEAR MR DEROBERT,

THANK YOU FOR CONTACTING ME BUT I BELIEVE THERE WAS A TYPO IN YOUR EMAIL. WHAT ACTUALLY HAS HAPPENED IS THAT APPROXIMATELY $1,400,000 WAS INCORRECTLY CREDITED TO MY BANK ACCOUNT.

THIS MONEY DOES NOT BELONG TO ME BUT I HAVE HAD NO WAY OF RETURNING IT UNTIL NOW. PLEASE SEND ME YOUR BANK ACCOUNT NUMBER SO THAT I CAN TRANSFER THE MONEY TO YOU FORTHWITH.

REGARDS,

JAY MANFREDGENSENGEN

I like the use of "forthwith". It sounds very honest.

Within Spitting Distance Of Humor

I was working on an idea for a post this morning. It would have gone something like this:

If there is one thing you should never expect from a politician (or upper management who are also, essentially, politicians) is an answer to a straight forward question.

"When did you first learn that Rep. Foley wanted to diddle a 16 year-old?"

"Well, let me start by saying..."

When someone starts with "let me start by saying" you will not get an answer. What you will get is oration. Minutes, sometimes hours, of oration. If you're naive, you won't notice. If you ever get past the naivete stage you'll probably go through disappointment, then anger and, if you're lucky, indifference.

For those who are still struggling with the early stages, I offer this helpful advice. What should you do when you hear a politician asked one of these questions? Or your CEO? Expect oration.

But while thinking about this, just before I got into the shower, I somehow smashed my knee on the edge of the bathroom counter top. This made a nice little 1cm x 2mm gouge. After my shower, and despite the depth of the gouge, I decided to put some of that liquid bandage stuff on the wound.

If you read the directions for the liquid bandage it clearly states not to use it on open wounds. I interpret this as something you might have if you ran a chain saw across your leg, not a little gash. So I put a little dab of the stuff on my knee.

After about a quarter of a second, the pain started. A searing, burning, sharp pain that felt like someone was driving a nail right through my leg. No one in history has ever felt a pain like this...but I toughed it out.

After I shaved, I noticed my knee was now bleeding. Well, sort of. There was a big drop of blood hanging there. Much too big to not drip and yet it didn't. But it wasn't just blood. It was part rubbery New Skin. A big glob of rubbery blood. Neat!

So, I did what any normal person would do in this situation. I shaved my knee, cleaned it with expectoration and put a Band-Aid on it.

The Bag, Ladies

I didn't really know what to expect for my hike through the Ahr valley (only a few miles from Nürburgring, for you racing fans). I had my water, some energy bars and my camera but I figured I should also bring some extra socks, in case my feet got soaked. Also, having learned my lesson from Hawaii that no matter how nice the weather seems, have something to protect your camera. Bad news: I was out of plastic bags.

Fortunately, the hotel supplies free bags! These little bags are usually kept right by the toilet. I stuck my camera in one, a pair of socks in another and an open bag of peanuts in a third. That used up all the bags they had. The next day when I saw the housekeeper, she gave me a very strange look, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I didn't get to do the hike I wanted because storms (including a tornado) had destroyed the trails I wanted to hike. I hiked a different trail and there was no rain, not even any clouds. Along the way, I would stop in a rare shady spot and have a bite. One of those spots was a little shelter where several people had stopped.

My pack was a little disorganized and I had to partially empty it to find things. I pulled out my extra socks, in their little bag, and set them on the bench next to me. The woman nearest to me gasped and started speaking rapid fire German to the other women with her. They were all sneaking looks at me when I found my peanuts. Most of the peanuts had fallen out of the peanut bag so it was a good thing I had that extra bag around it. The bag was to long and narrow to fit my hand in so I just held the thing up to my mouth and poured in the nuts.

Two of the women gaped at me. I guess they've never seen someone put their salty nuts in one of those bags! I offered them some, holding the bag out to them. They recoiled in horror, gathered up their things and left the shelter. Some people are so weird.

This Is Only A Theory...Just Like Evolution

Let's say, hypothetically, that you really liked a movie (like Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie) and that this movie is no longer sold on DVD. You may be able to, hypothetically, buy a used copy for about $100 but who would want to do that?

Now, let's say that you found out that this movie was available but only in a foreign country; how about Germany and for a reasonable price. And let's further suppose that you just happened to be traveling to that country. So you buy a copy.

Now the problem is that your hypothetical movie, that you bought and paid for and that has been released in your country will not play on your DVD player thanks to it being the wrong DVD region. However, you're a pretty smart cookie and probably knew this before you bought it. You probably figured on using DVD Decryptor and/or DVD Shrink to make a hypothetical playable copy of it. You probably knew that you can change the region on most computer DVD players 5 times. Why 5? I have no hypothesis for that.

If you were to hypothetically do all that, then you would have a copy of the movie you might be able to play on a computer but probably wouldn't be able to play on a regular DVD player. And I'll tell you the reason, pal. Sorry, that should have been: I'll tell you the reason, PAL. You see, your hypothetical movie copy would still be in PAL format which is the TV standard in Europe, while NTSC is the standard here in the US. Hypothetically, you might burn two copies of this useless movie without realizing that was the problem.

You might spend some time and do some research about PAL to NTSC conversion, or DVD players that can play PAL DVDs on NTSC TVs. But if you're lucky, you'd stumble across a nifty trick which is to basically tell your DVD player that the movie is NTSC even though it's not. It might work and it might not. It'll cost you the price of a blank DVD to find out. If it does work then you can watch and enjoy your movie. Hypothetically, of course.

Guess What Country This Is In

Giant bug spotted via satellite! Run for your lives!

Rock Me, Amadeus

In Haarlem, Netherlands, I stayed at the Hotel Amadeus. I had/was getting over a cold the whole time so, although I thought it sucked, it might have seemed worse than it was. Here you can see the size (and number) of the steps to get to the rooms on the first floor. There were also rooms another flight up.
The mirror in the bathroom. Great height for me (notice me in the reflection) and recall I'm 6'6".And speaking of height, if you can see yourself in the mirror, you better duck when you use the toilet. The toilet is a bit weird as a #2 just lays on the porcelain. I tried using the thing sitting the other way but that didn't work right. When you flush, a Niagara of water tries its best to sweep things away, resembling a class 5 rapids pouring over a boulder...or a tree trunk, depending on what you've been eating.
Notice that my toothpaste is on the edge of the sink and not the shelf above. That's because the shelf was too flimsy to hold a tube of toothpaste.

On the good side, the bed is very comfortable and breakfast was decent. Also, the shower spigot was adjustable to Manute Bol heights.

There's more bad, the view (an air column), the air conditioner (right outside the window for cooling some other place; all the noise and none of the cooling!), the windows (giants but one was a time bomb if left open it would, after a random amount of time, slam closed and wake the dead), the covey of pigeons that roosted outside the window (coo coo, yourself), the noise of the market place stalls being built at 4am, the 13" TV (not viewable from the bed, with a dead remote).

But again, I was sick, so maybe it's just me.

I Feel For Uwe

One of the chocolate treats I brought back from Germany was a tin of Scho-Ka-Kola. This is dark chocolate, coffee and cola. I believe it was used during WWII to keep German soldiers alert (it contains .2% caffeine).

On their website (translated), it talks about how hysterical girls will faint at the sight of you and movie producers will offer you roles...or something along those lines.

From the untranslated page, I suggest you click on "Rekord anschauen und bewerten" as the video that comes up is quite hilarious (mute first if at work).


Explanation of Post Title if you need one: Although Uwe(a common German name) is pronounced oo-vah, it is a play on words of "I Feel For You" which is the name of Chaka Khan's most famous song (highlight to read)

Also, They're Better Typists

There was a recent very important study that showed that the ratio of the length of a woman's ring finger to her index finger is correlated to her "sporting potential" (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know-what-I-mean).

I tried to verify this with my own study but most of the women I asked were not smart enough to take part. When I asked to measure the length of their ring and index fingers, they would instead hold out only their middle fingers. Idiots.

I Believe In Dog!

Holy crap!

I bring thee good tidings...about once a day, in the middle of the living room.

Go with God.

(Thanks Zimbo!)

More Fun With Wörter

Well, what would you think if you saw this sign? Urologist office?

I looked up the words in a German-English dictionary to find uhren means clocks (or maybe watches) and schmuck means jewelry. Jewelry!

Now, anybody reading this probably knows that the schmuck is Yiddish for penis. Since Yiddish is mostly derived from German and mostly spoken by Jews, it follows that Jews must think of the penis as a piece of jewelry.

Interestingly, a recent survey found that, of different groups, Jewish women were least likely to have their tongues pierced. The reason given was that Jewish women do not put jewelry in their mouths.

Thank you. I be hyah all da week.

Length Of My Thigh Minus 1" = Seat Room In Coach

My flights back today were from Duesseldorf to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Newark. I didn't pay much attention earlier but after I got my boarding cards I noticed the first leg boarded at 10:55 while the second leg boarded at 11:55. Checking my itinerary, I noted only a 45 minute layover.
The first flight was delayed when someone checked-in but did not board the plane. This means going through the cargo hold to find their luggage and get it off the plane. The pilot assured us that even with this delay we would make it to Frankfurt in time.

During the short 25 minute flight, the flight attendant made an announcement that passengers with connecting flights should check the board for connection information. Passengers connecting to flights in the US are urged to go directly to their gate as the security measures for these passengers take much longer. I checked my watch. My flight home had already started boarding and we weren't even on approach yet. At this point I figured I be going home Monday unless there was a later flight.

A few minutes later, another announcement: "Passengers connecting to flight ### to Newark, there will be a bus waiting to take you to the terminal." That sounded good. Must be half the plane going to Newark. They'll hold it for us.

We land right on time, 20 minutes after my other flight began boarding. As I head down the jetway I see a bus on the tarmac. It says Newark on it's electronic sign and it is right near the stairs connected to the back door of the plane. Was I supposed to exit from the rear of the plane? Did they only announce that in German? I ask an employee on the Jetway. He doesn't understand much English but is not about to let me back on the plane. He says something about "checking the sign" in the terminal. Well, I'll just find somebody else to help.

How about this guy holding the sign (in the terminal) that says "Newark Passengers". He has me wait a minute as the final passengers empty the plane. Then I and the rest of the Newark bound passengers are told to follow him. We both do.

He takes us out a security door and onto the tarmac. We get on the bus and we're off. It's amazing how much traffic there is on the tarmac. At one point we had to yield right-of-way to an Airbus 320. Right-of-way always seems to go to the biggest vehicle.

We must've driven a couple miles and we're let off at a door way. Up an escalator and we hit obstacle number 1, passport control. Our escort says something politely in German as he cuts us into the front of the line. Judging by it's length, probably a 20 minute savings.

Our escort is moving pretty quickly, dodging in and out and paying no attention to us. We almost lose him in a group of Asian tourists. We finally arrive at the security line. No metal detector just an Xray, maybe a sniffer in it too. This line looks to be well over an hour. We cut past everyone. Shoes off, laptops out, everything out of your pockets. "My hanky?" "Everything." I toss my dirty handkerchief in the bin with my wallet and change.

"Arms out please," comes the command. I look down and notice half my toe sticking out a hole in my socks. A sure sign of a shoe bomber, probably. I am then patted down. I haven't been this intimate with a man since my last prostate exam.

No time to tie my shoes, I am near running to the terminal. Untied shoes on an escalator seems like a really bad idea. But I make it. I hand over my boarding card and turn and yell "Danke schoen!" to my guide. I go down the jetway but there's no plane at the end; just stairs. Down the stairs and, ohhhkay, it's another bus. This one with quite a lot of people aboard. We sit for a few more minutes and a couple more people straggle on.

As we wait, the guy next to me is filling out one of those "next of kin" cards. I tell him not to bother. The box for dropping it into was at the top of the jetway and that the card would be going on the plane with him. "I hope it makes it OK," I joked but I don't think he got it.

Finally the bus drives away, first stopping about 200 feet away, right by a 747 but the doors don't open. At first I can't believe they made us get in a bus to go such a short distance. Then I can't believe they won't open the doors. Then I see that the 747 is being pushed away. As we drive away I realize that there are quite a few 747's at this airport. Ours is far from the terminal, out on the tarmac. Jet engine noises roar all around as a female German voice makes an announcement over the bus PA about which door on the plane to use, fore or aft, depending on your row. Well, that was the gist of the announcement. I only caught a few words and had no idea which door to use. I opted for the rare opportunity to use the rear door.

Thankfully I had taken my Meclizine because the flight was very bumpy the first hour or so and again with the last hour or so. We had a couple of those experiences where it feels like you just drop a thousand feet, when it was probably 10 or 20.

I totally dropped the ball on postcards, so my apologies and these blog entries in their place.

Cold Pudding

Cold update: All remnants are just about gone. I'm only coughing up what appears to be banana pudding. A few days ago it was lumpy beef gravy, then butterscotch pudding, then turkey gravy. Hmmm, I'm getting hungry.

I note all this as I lay in my room listening to some neighbor's wretching sounds reflect into my room. It started with a good chchchchchcht, ptoo. After several of these it has now morphed into actual wretching. Hhhhchchchchchrrrrrrllllp, ptoo. Ptoo. I hope it stops soon. I don't feel like getting up to close the windows.
It finally stopped. That was a good three minutes of hocking and wretching. It was making me nauseous.

Oh, wait. After a few minutes break they are back again for two final hocks. That's got to do it.

Sorry. I really thought that was it but after another couple minutes of break there was one more. I'd feel foolish predicting that to be the last one. I might have to miss my train waiting for more...

For Bitte Or Wurst

Did you ever get kicked the head? With an iron boot?

No. Of course you haven't. Nobody has. That's a stupid question.

I have plenty of stories but not the time to tell them right now. I hope later to add some.

A tidbit: on the trip from Haarlem to Garmisch (10+ hours) I noticed this: The terrain from the train is mainly quite plain. (Stop groaning, I thought that was pretty snappy.)