Justify My Existance

We can all agree with this at least one point or another unless you're:

-filthy rich

-filthy poor

-crazy enough to "love" work

***And let the record show, at one time...I actually had 6 different bosses.

Where Do They Come From?

Why is it whenever there is a survey, usually option "c", which is the "undecided/don't know" option always has at least .1% following? You could ask the following:

- Is the sky blue?

a) Yes
b) No
c) Undecided

And you would get some ass that would choose c, not because they want to skew the survey, possibly because they genuinely can't make up their freakin' minds.

CHOOSE DAMMIT!

If Only Cell Phones Did Give You Cancer

There are times that I see an opinion poll put up on tv or in a magazine where people are asked what daily gadgets they couldn't live without. The top two that piss me off are televisions and cell phones. Especially cell phones, seeing as how 10 years ago, they really didn't exist...back in the day when pagers still existed.

Well, in this day and age, cell phones are everwhere. Just to be clear, it is, at no time acceptable, to have and use a cell phone in the following locations:

1) Movie theaters - Hey jackass, how about I wait for you to buy an expensive dinner out on the town, then I come and hock a big one on it. No, it is the same thing.

2) Librarys - I honestly don't believe people can multitask between telling how they got drunk last night and Ernest Hemingway.

3) Gyms - This may be the Army in me talking, but if you're on a treadmill and you're on the phone, then get the FUCK off the treadmill. If you can talk while you're running, you are NOT running fast enough. Why not let someone that has a vested interest in their health use the machine for a while.

4) Resturants - See #1, only replace expensive dinner with opening night at the movie, and replace hocking a big one with answering a cell phone in your ear.

5) Public Restrooms - Are you really this important?

6) Police Cars - Be it that you're the actual cop, or in the backseat of one (or especially if you're the subject of a traffic stop), put the phone down. Your rage will sound better once the police report has been filed.

7) Hospitals - Call this a hunch, but people go to hospitals to heal. And they certainly can't do that with the constant flux of verbal crap being spewed into it's halls about what you're going to have for dinner.

8) Church - I've never actually seen this one happen. But if you answer your phone in church, you might as well go piss in the little vat of holy water and take a dump in the alms box.'

9) ANY Military Speech - Although most of you have never been in the Military, there is no way to describe the unimaginable discomfort a brand new 2nd Lieutenant gets when his cell phone goes off during a 2 Star General's speech. It's made even worse when the General stops speaking....

10) The Grocery Store - Just pick between iceburg and romaine already! Good gravy are you going to call her on where to buy your balls back? (I say this because I've only seen men doing the "uh honey...I'm standing in front of the (whatever) isle...what should I get? Duh"

Cookin Up More Then Jedi

Nothing really off the hook this weekend. Visited an old college roommate from Oregon (shall be nicknamed "Oregon-B"). We recreated the usual college debautchery through a combination of well placed alcoholic drinks and Halo 3 gaming. It's apparent that we're losing our party strength as one of the nights, we both tapped out around midnight. Very unusual for either one of us.

As for the rest of the weekend:

Taco Bell dinner = Good

Pirates of the Carribean 3 = Not Good

200 lb. dogs = Worthless

"Those Who Live By The Sword...."

This is one of those days that I almost wish I could be back in the mix of shit with other Soldiers. Regardless of how corrupt the Army has gotten through the buddy-buddy system and the never ending desire to make each other look better, there are times I miss working for something more then a paycheck. Certainly helping people in an HR capacity is okay, but whoopin' ass in the name of the United States is 10x more satisfying.

The Horrors Of Retail

For anyone that has worked a crappy job, I believe if you put them all in a room and took a census as to why it was crappy, it was usually for one or two reasons. Either #1 - They dealt with people or #2 - they had a boss that couldn't lead ants to a picnic.

In my limited time at Kmart as a Manager-in-Training, I learned ALOT about both the retail industry, and the human populus in general. I was very suprised to learn more about the bad side of people through retail moreso then during my time doing law enforcement.

My general summation of both fields are like this. I will start with the retail industry.

The retail industry is a giant monster that gobbles up anyone and anything in it's path in order to make what is known as the "all mighty buck". I would argue that retail leadership ethically speaking is more heartless then the concept of war (and oh by the way you retail executive asses, I've been to war too). I would submit that retail executive leadership hold the following to be true:

1) "Customer Service Alone Will Increase Sales" - Only slightly flawed in the manner that they forget you have to get people in the door before you can serve them. Kmart has the "10 foot rule" where an employee must acknowledge all customers within 10 feet, be it by saying hi or asking if they need help. The problem with this is that retail also operates on the "do more with less" rule, so you don't have enough employees to ever cover the sales floor to begin with. I am positive that I have had customers enter the stores I've worked at, shop for over an hour, and see not one employee. But the leadership kept reiterating that apparently as long as we kept saying "hi", we would destroy all other retail chains in place.

2) "Retail Employees Hate Free Time" - If you were an hourly wage earner in a retail chain, you can rest somewhat comfortably that you will only work 39.999999 hours per week because an executive would sooner have a mycardio infarction then pay a cent of over time (which is needed..see above), but if you were salaried, then you might as well sell your tv. Kmart held a policy that all management had a minimum weekly requirement to work 48 hours per week. During an interview with Home Depot (who called exactly 1 year after I put in my resume), I found they demand 56 hours per week. This would mean an average shift would be about 10 hours long. My most unfavorite shift was the 11am to 10pm. Mostly for the fact that customers would come in at 9:55 pm and begin shopping heavily (don't get me wrong, I kicked their asses out at 10), but also for the fact there was no purpose. The store would usually be empty from 8pm on, leaving me and my coworkers to listen to the crappy music that was constantly played. Also, the ONLY day off in retail is Christmas, and even then (at Kmart), employees came into work to stock shelves. The blame is 50/50 between corporate executives and the assholes that shop on holidays.

3) "More Inventory = More Sales" - I began working for Kmart in September, and as we drew closer to Christmas, the inventory in the stockroom began to mount. If you can imagine a stockroom approximately the size of a football field, stacked about 12 feet high with rows and rows of inventory, that's where we were at about October. HQ's apparently thought the more crap they sent us, the more sales would increase. It usually just lead to season stuff (i.e. Thanksgiving) being buried under a mount of Christmas inventory, and not being found until April. One of my few amusing memories was climbing to the top of a giant pile of inventory, and subsequently falling (like 10 feet) off into a huge stack of boxes full of socks (thankfully not anvils).

4) "We Have a Return Policy For No Reason" - People who attempt to return items that are outside of the return policy, usually are okay when you explain why they can't return something. But occasionally you have someone that wants to go right to the CEO. Well, when they usually go to store manager or above, they usually get to return stuff DESPITE the return policy. Usually the manager doesn't want to hear the pissing and moaning, but sometimes the manager is rolling over on the floor level decision of the service desk staff - HUGE no no in leadership. If you designate someone to make decisions, then counter a decision they make, you're wrong as a leader.

5) "Bad Leadership Will Get Better" - I have seen a store manager single handedly destroy the revenue of a Kmart store over a course of six months, and what was his punishment? Sent to a different store, I guess because the executives thought that store should get messed up too. It also probably helped that the crappy manager actually knew someone at corporate. 'Nuff said.

And now onto you customers. If you have ever been involved in any activity or would describe yourself as follows, do us all a favor and choke yourself:

1) The "First-In" Customer - Every morning that I opened the store, there would always be a customer, usually the same one, that would be standing damn near nose-to-the-glass, waiting to get into the store. When I would open the door, he would make a bee-line to somewhere in the back of the store, and usually return to the front of the store just as fast...and never buying anything. I know he wasn't stealing because I had security watching, but it never made sense. This customer never really pissed me off, just confused me to no end.

2) The "Backroom" Customer - Most people understand that if a store has something in stock, it will be on the shelves. Unfortunately, there is a select (and Ignorance) few that believe that the stockroom is some portal to a pan-dimensional universe that craps out any thing in the world on cue. So if they didn't see it, this usually lead to "well could you check in the back?" Despite constant assertations that we were out, I would usually counter this question by walking through the stockroom doors, waiting about 3 minutes, rubbing my hands in some dirt, and going back out proclaiming I sifted through multiple boxes to no avail. Usually they're happy with that. This customer kind of pissed me off, but I could understand needing something pretty bad.

3) The "Two Cent" Customer - Some customers are positive they know how to run a retail store, despite the fact they've probably not even passed 7th grade Math. I have been told countless times that prices were too high, how Fred Meyer was better, blah blah blah. Usually after they've said their peace, they move on...but occasionally I'd have to completely counter their arguement with an explaination of current market trends as they apply to import/export shipping demands and various other financial jibberish. One customer was complaining that we were out of hand warmers during winter (duh) to which I quickly replied "well sir, I can sell you a pair of gloves and light them on fire for you." He thought it was funny, I was being serious. This customer pissed me off, but I did enjoy blowing their mind with a bunch of sales bullcrap.

4) The "Last Minute" Customer - For anyone that has worked in any service job, we all know this customer. It's the customer that comes in 5 minutes until the doors lock and proceed to take their sweet ass time doing whatever they're doing. If you work in a resturant, they usually ordered the hardest thing to make on the menu. If you work in retail, they're the bastards that grab a cart and begin shopping like it's Sunday afternoon. Policy dictates that customers should be allowed to shop (*cough* almighty buck *cough*), however, I've always been one to prize employee morale over policy. So come 10 pm, I would send security after them to boot their ass out. For some reason, people apparently need cereal, a sweatsuit, a dvd, and boat anchor at 9:55pm on a Thursday night. This customer pisses me off beyond control.

5) The "Returner" - The most UNHOLY of all customers and human beings in general. This is the customer that attempts to return an item, usually when: #1 they don't have their receipt and of course paid with cash, #2 they purchased the item waaaaay beyond the return time limit, like a year ago, #3 they destroyed the item and want to say it's defective ooorr #4 they received it as a gift, and their moron family/friend don't know what a gift receipt is. The process usually goes like this. The customer is told they can't return it, they ask for store credit, they are told store credit can't be given, they ask for a even swap, they can't get it, they freak out, they demand to see a manager, I use the "well sir, I am the manager" (no seriously, I've used it), they demand to speak to the district manager, I tell them no (because he would cave in a second and it's now personal), he demands my full name, I tell him no, he makes the usual threats; "I'll never shop here again, no wonder Wal-Mart is better, I'll have your job, the CEO will hear about this, blah blah blah", I tell him to leave, he hesitates, I call security (a 200 lb. fully pierced gothic girl with several visible scars and no desire to live), he leaves. This customer can kiss my ass.

6) The "Opener" - Mired in disbelief of the actual product, this is the f$%king customer that opens packages to see what's inside. Usually it's nothing easy that can be closed back up and placed back on the shelf. Usually it's an fragile item wrapped in a Pandoras box of styrofoam, which is about as easy to get back into the box as it is to re-fold a road map. Then to top off the insult that they leave the package absolutely wide open (with the product somewhere other then the package), they buy the unopened package next to it. This is the customer of which I would like to go to their house, pull the stuffing out of all of their couch cushions, then take a pillow.

7) The "Traveler" - If you've never worked in retail, you might still have witnessed this event. Have you ever been shopping and noticed there's a can of peas in the bakery department? Well, this is known in the retail industry as "product misplacement", or what I call in my industry "fuckers that can put shit back on the shelf if they don't want it". It usually manifests itself in a manner of being one cingular item, usually a seasonal item like a package of Christmas lights, that ends up on the direct opposite end of the store next to the socks. More regularly, there's a sub division I call "Borrowers"...these are parents that let kids get their hands on a non-packaged toy in the toy isle (i.e. tricycle, basketball, etc), and let's them play with it the entire time their worthless clan is shopping, then right before getting to the register, they eighty-six the toy...usually in the grocery or hardware department. But what do they care right? They don't have to put it back. These people are worthless.

My advise to people who have never served the general public. Do you want to make a retail worker's day a great one? Do the following:

1) Shop during normal business hours, 1 hour after they open, and be done 1 hour before close

2) Don't ask questions or locations of anything. LOOK for God's sake.

3) If you try to return something and you can't, accept it.

4) Say something upbeat and random to an employee and give them something to talk about in the employee lounge

5) Buy clearance crap. This is every retail workers headache

and finally

6) CAVEAT EMPTOR - If you don't know what this is, go to www.ask.com and type "define caveat emptor". Don't accumulate bad karma just because you didn't get your 10% discount on crap you don't need.

I HATE RETAIL!

Amen.

And Heavily Drank He, From the Assy Oak Tree...

So I finally broke down last night and tried drinking some absinthe that had been brewing for the past nine days or so. It's a tricky drink, because while you are drinking it...it's not bad. Taste like a cross between a wine and tea, with a bit of black licorish. But when you're done drinking it, it tastes like an oak tree bust down your front door, held you down, and farted in your mouth. It apparently is drank with ALOT of sugar.

So in light of this pain, I naming the first batch "Assy Oak", due to the fact that wormwood (the main ingredient) is SO pronounced in the drink. Oh yeah, and it certainly is a different drunk...it feels like you took a big sedative after you drink it.

Define Irony

I am a human resources manager as you might well know by now, a male in a primarily female dominated employment field. Both the job title and gender specification make it funny as:

1) I drink...alot.

2) I love internet porn.

3) I really don't like people (to be more pronounced in later posts).

4) I don't know jack about insurance (thanks to the Army).

5) I'm still in the military "give it to me now or I rip you a new one" mode.

The Typical Daily Flush

In an average day at work, I drink about 3 cups of coffee, two sodas, and two cups of tea. As my daily lunch consists of a lunch of Chef Boyardee straight from the can, I don't eat enough to really soak up all the liquids. So the following is the average thought pattern as I go to the bathroom several million times a day:

Internal Dialogue On the Way to the bathroom:

"Whoops! Conference call in two minutes, gotta boogie"

"I need new shoes (notices squeaking noise), why the hell didn't I wear boots today?"

"Oh geez, the receptionist is already here...I'm not hitting on you!" (The receptionist desk is approximately 20 feet from the bathrooms - so everytime I go to the bathroom, the receptionist knows. It's not bad enough she knows my bm schedule, it's made worse by the fact that she is, indeed, a hottie)

Internal Dialogue Inside The Bathroom

"Feet check (looks under stalls), whoo hoo! I can whiz and sing at the same time!"

"I know there is already a place for two rolls of toilet paper affixed to the stall....why the hell does the janitor give us a third auxillery roll? Does he think we crap all that much?"

"I wonder if anyone would notice if a whizzed in the floor drain in the center of the bathroom? I wonder how it would go if I were caught whizzing in the floor drain? I gotta try that sometime."

"Is a toilet called that because someone back in the day considered taking a dump toiling?"

"Is it a urinal cake or urinal biscuit? Either way, why the hell is it food?"

"Seriously! Why the hell is there a third roll of toilet paper?"

"Uh oh! Someone else is in the bathroom! I better remain completely motionless and not make a peep!" (I always use a stall regardless of what I'm doing, I prefer not to put on a show. I did enough of that taking drug tests in the Army)

Internal Dialogue Leaving The Bathroom En Route Back To The Office

(Thinking Towards Receptionist) "I swear I'm not hitting on you! And I didn't take a dump in there!"

"I wonder if I should slow down on the liquids....is this healthy?"

"I could really go for a sandwich about now."

Girls Trying To Bring The Man Down

I am the youngest of three brothers, and have somehow been dubbed the "ladies man". I have learned alot of women in my limited years of dating and interaction. Here are a few points I would like to pass on to my fellow man...nothing profound, just things to think about:

* Whenever women do something that is atypically a male thing, such as working on a car or playing video games, it multiplies their hotness ten fold

* You can definately tell alot about a woman by their shoes.

* Just like America has nukes, men have the "c" bomb...but don't EVER use it, or your world will come to an end.

* Women will deny checking out other women, just as you would deny checking out women, in exactly the same way (and they do give other women the once over).

* Almost all girls are little freaky, but that ration it.

* Women actually do go to the club just to dance. Weird.

* You will never meet your future wife in a bar. And if you do, why would you do that?

* Try to remember what your girlfriend is wearing, and reminder her of it a week later, she'll think you're very romantic.

* REMEMBER what color your woman's eyes are!

* Women that are offended by having the door held for them are more insecure then all other women combined.

* Avoid women that talk excessively about past boyfriends, fear of being alone, and marriage plans on the first date.

* Majority of women are mezmerized by babies, even if they denounce them all other times.

* If you ask a woman if her breasts are real, 9 times out of 10, it's interpreted as a compliment.

My Moonshine Misadventures

So work was especially long yesterday for one simple reason, booze.

Yes I had received my do-at-home absente kit (not joking, it actually exists). This kit is composed of several teabags that contain wormwood, which is the active ingredient in absente. No, it doesn't make you hallucinate or drive you schizo like the rumors usually say. I've been told that just like beer and liquor get you two kind of drunk, this one gets you an extreme, very relaxed kind of drunk.

So my adventure is as this. I went home on lunch and picked up the UPS box from my landlords and immediately inventoried what I needed. The first was the base alcohol. The receipe calls for 1 liter of Everclear and 1 liter of Vodka. Well, as Washington is a state that loves to control personal behavior, Everclear isn't sold in Washington because the lawmakers think it get's people too drunk. So I am reduced to use to liters of Vodka. My choices were either Idol (a vodka made of grapes, filtered 7 times, and SMOOOOOTH- 80 proof) or Schmirnoff (vodka made of ass-potatos, filtered 3 times, kinda tart - 100 proof). Being the practical guy that I am, I decide to pick up a 1.75 liter jug and plastic .375 ml flask of the Schmirnoff and plan to filter them out college style. I went to one of the liquor stores about a block away from my workplace. I was concerned when I rolled up as the building looked like utter hell. The paint was flecking off, graffitti was all over...it was not in a tasty part of Seattle (although, Seattle really doesn't have any "bad parts" - so this is the white man's view as an "unsavory" part of town). However, when I walked in, it was like opening the front door in Oz. The carpets were an immaculate burgundy color, all the bottle showcases were either cherry wood or oak, and there were rows upon rows upon rows of every type of alcohol imaginable. My only concern at this point was the guy behind the counter hearing me let out a "what the f$#k?" at my disbelief.
After I had gathered my booze, the next stop was target to get a large glass jar to combine the ingredients in, and a Brita water filter to run the vodka through a few times to take the bite off it.
(*Note - I have no idea if this works, but I googled it and saw that enough people try it, so I figured to follow the pack)
After grabbing a glass suntea jar, I headed over to the water filtration isle. As I was reaching to pick up the desired Brita pitcher, I bumped (literally - merely tapped) the jar on the side of the counter and the entire thing exploded in what could have been the louded glass shattering sound ever. No sooner did I have time to once again curse my childhood nickname "El Destructo", did the hottest retail associate ever come around the corner.
(*Note - I have one intimidation in this world, and it actually happens to be women I find attractive)
She looked pissed beyond all belief, and I honestly don't blame her. In my short stint in retail, I've learned that customers on a large part are pigs. They pick up stuff from one isle and leave it in another isle, they open merchandise and then don't buy it, and they break stuff and don't clean it up. Well, I would have offered to help, unfortunately, retail store policies forbid a customer picking up a mess, more importantly, a hazardous mess. So my only mental thoughts at this point as she was on her hands and knees sweeping up the nano-size glass particulates was me thinking "that's it naive! And when you're done, wash my car and steam clean my couch!"
Once I had re-procured my jar, I was off. I spent the next 3 hours that night running the vodka through the Brita filter, and could definately smell a difference. I combined it all and now I have an eerie semi-swamp green liquid brewing in my closet for the next 5 days, where as then I remove that big bag, replace it with a small bag, another 3 days, and I should have absente.
Thank goodness this wasn't a process or anything.

Bogey On My Six

So once again I ran the gambit against Bogey's masterful drink making skills, and once again I can't feel my kidneys. Fortunately this was Saturday night, so I had all of Sunday to rally before work.

Unfortuantely, I once again awoke with a mystery head wound and blood all over the pillow. Apparently during the night, I had fallen (face first) on the cement an split my left eyebrow wide open. Now I'm running the gambit at work and telling everyone I fell down (a common lie used to cover up domestic violence). Being the HR guy, I can either let them think I'm lying to cover up a fight, or follow up with "I was pissy drunk when it happened". Usually with that they go "oooh" and they understand.

So, would you rather have a violent human resource manager? Or a drunken human resource manager?

Consequently, after talking to a few of my friends, I've decided to curtail my drinking for a while. Not going cold turkey because, well, I like booze too much. But slowing down to one drink allowed per week night, and three mixed drinks per any weekend night. I can already hear my liver thanking me. Ugh.

Workplace Guilt

So it's a Friday afternoon in my semi-new corporate job, and I find my workplace to be unusually quiet, as it usually is around this time every Friday. One of the downfalls of working in HR is that if there are no employees around to ask questions or enroll in stuff, then you as the HR guy, really have nothing to be done. So I organized a bit of the files, defragged my hard drive, and find myself constant checking the clock anyway.
I have two "carry-over" issues I believe I picked up in the Army. They are as follows:

1) Restless Hands - I've been the kind of worker that loves an enormous stack of work in his inbox. Whenever I'm left to figure out new and innovate ways to make my job more efficient, I have it down in about 3 seconds flat and begin trying to steal work from other people. I've gotten looks of disbelief more than once at my current job when I volunteer to do someone elses job, particularly when it comes to hiring and so forth.

2) Anchor Syndrome - As in, I have to be anchored to my desk for a period of time well past quitting time. In the workplace, but more prevailent in the Army, is that attitude that if you're walking out the door, even right at 5 pm, then you're a slacker. I've worked with other Officers that have worked so late in the night, they've actually put a cot up in their office and slept on that so they could wake up early the next morning and go right back to work. I have never been like that, however, I do feel an odd sense of guilt, even to this day where it's expected that people leave at 5 pm, when I leave work on or even after 5pm.
Shortly before I left the Army, the Sergeant First Class that I worked with and I decided we had gotten fed up with the "work from 7 to 7" attitude and started to lay the law down. Come 4 pm (in the Army, work hours are usually 8 to 4), we would both shut down our computers, walk loudly through the office, taunting the others still in their seats, and walk right out to our cars. Our attitudes were, if you have work for us, we'd been there since 8am, don't drop it on our desk at 3:59 pm. This daily event became even more pronounced when I made up lyrics to the sound Windows makes when it's shutting down. For those of you who have never shut Windows down (uh, like nobody), the tune goes:

Dah dah dah dah (high, medium, low, medium)

To which I sang several strings of lyrics depending on how I felt:

"I'm go-ing home"
or
"Man this crap sucks"
or
"I hate my job"

**Go ahead, shut your computer down now and try singing along, you'd be suprised how well it works.

The Most Unholy Neighbors

In my travelings around the country in the Army, I have had plenty of places to live, and plenty of people to piss off. Below is my top three most irritating neighbors, and should I be so fortunate that they read this, then my message to them is "I HATE YOU"

#1 - The Singing SOB - I learned after moving to Seattle, that two things hold true about renting an apartment. First, apartments in Seattle don't have air conditioning, so you always have to pray that it stays cool. Second, if your apartment faces a major roadway, do not accept that apartment. I was so fortunate as to get an apartment that faces a bus stop and a major roadway. The singing SOB got his name because everytime I hear it in the morning, I think "Son of bitch! He's at it again". It's like this, every morning, Monday through Friday, this man stands approximately 20 feet away from the bus stop, paces, stomps, and sings. Not good singing mind you, UNINTELLIGIBLE singing. I put it akin to that weird "rawr" that Pee-Wee used to scream, only a chain of it. He does this from approximately 6:30am until around 7:05, unless he misses the bus, then it's forever. I would scream at the guy, but I can tell by the way he's constantly pacing, shaking his arms about, and the never-tended to cow lick that sticks straight up from his head every morning, he is fucking looney tunes. And as we all know, you never go toe-to-toe with a crazy person, because you might catch the crazy.

#2 - The Tapping Bastard - As you might know, the Army has strict grooming standards and only allows for a small (but non-Hitler-esque) mustache on the face. A few years back when I was station in Missouri, I lived in a two bedroom townhouse with paperthin walls. At this time I had an Army Engineer Officer living next to me, and as every good Army Officer should do, he shaved every morning. And like the Singing SOB, this Bastard was like clockwork. Every morning at 5:45 am, he would shave. I could almost hear the water running in his sink because it was on the reverse side of the wall that my sink was on in my bathroom. When he shaved, he had an annoying habit of not only rinsing his razor, but tapping it (I believe) on the edge of the sink. He tapped it every morning in the exact same repetitions.

*dink dink dink* (1 sec passes)
*dink dink* (2 sec passes)
*DINK!*

And my brain felt the urge to wake me up every morning at this time just so I could lie awake, listen to it and think "oh you Bastard". Thankfully he ended up moving out a few months after I moved in, and subsequently got replaced by a hot, single teacher in her late 20's. Score!

#3 - The Bible Boozers - My senior year in college was by far the best year in college because I got to stay in a house composed of multiple apartments with my best friend at the time. The apartment and the one next to us was a piddly small two bedroom, one bathroom apartment which had the livingroitchen which was only kept the living room and the kitchen segregated by where the carpet ended and the linoleum began. Next to us stayed three girls (notice only two bedrooms) who were apparently the most religious girls on campus. They attended church multiple times a week, never cussed, always wore conservative clothing, and the kicker? Drank enough to put me and half of Ireland to shame. I thought the two ironic moments were these:
Moment 1 - Weeks after they moved in, it was late one night when my roommate and I decided to go get a pizza. No sooner did we open our door to walk out then did our neighbors door fling open and one of them ran out with only a bra and soccer shorts on. Only then did my roommate and I look at each other and decide we were in for a crazy time.
Moment 2 - Our neighbors loved to go on how they would go to church EVERY Sunday and so on and so forth. Well, we heard them partying late one Saturday night and decided they were going to have a rough morning. The next day we found them washing their car. When we asked "so was church painful from last night?", one of them replied "oh, we couldn't go to church, we were way too hungover".


So there you have it, my most painful living experiences ever, brought to me by people I barely knew and hated more then ever. Enjoy!

Invention - The Wheel

One of my first great controversial inventions was the device I effectively called "the wheel". The idea behind this is brilliant, allow me to break it down Barney style:

There is a mass amount of people that do not contribute to society as a whole. The usually leech off of others, and basically are the reason Communism will never work. For the purposes of explaining "the wheel", I'll call them "leeches".

Under ideal circumstances, a court system would be developed not to try criminals, but to try all civilians as to their worth to society. Be it on a yearly or larger basis, every American would stand before a panel of judges and explain how they are benefiting either society or the world. A point value would be assigned to such things as education certificates, social work, charities, physical appearance, etc.etc.etc. If they are found useful by obtaining a point value, then they are free to go. If they are not however, they are told to "get on the wheel".

"The wheel"(1) would be a large, Ben Hur like corn grinding wheel miles beneath every major metropolis in the United States. Leeches sent here would push "the wheel" around, thusly turning a large turbine in a power plant (2) above them in 10-12 hour shifts. After they were done for the day, they would retire to a lower chamber (3) to sleep on bunk beds and dine on pancakes and milk. Why pancakes and milk? Have you ever eaten pancakes and milk and not been completely stuffed?

They would be contained by a giant metal hatch (4) that would only be opened after they had served their time and when shipments of Bisquick arrive. Their sentance would be based on the negative amount of points they received through either lack of education, how sloth their lifestyle was, what crimes they had committed, how fat they were, etc.etc.etc.

Not only would these people be inspired to work towards helping society, while they are paying their pennance they are helping society. Some scientists I'm sure would contend that with limitless power we could do just about anything. Well, in this case, it starts with limitless apathy.

Speak of My Only Amy Lee

Since my senior year in high school, I have been what some would most likely call "goth". I find this hard to believe as I really don't enjoy drawing attention to myself and I have no facial peircings, tattoos, weird habits, etc. In comparison to actual goth people I've met, the goth people pretty much are so goth they're dead when compared to me. I have managed to make a mark as when I was in the Army, a pack of Captains during my course referred to me as "Marilyn" (as in Marilyn Manson) after I showed up to a workplace party dressed in black, with a wig and collar covered in razor blades. Despite the fact I wasn't really going as anything, apparently my semi-romanesque nose makes me look like Manson. I didn't really believe it at first until I went to a bar afterwards and a woman actually approached me as though I was him. Oh dear God, why would Marilyn Manson be at a crappy bar in Saint Robert, Missouri (Mapquest it and you'll understand my contempt for her).
Anyway, now that background is provided, I speak of Amy Lee. One musical artist that I have truely grown an affection for in everyway. Most pronounced would be her voice. Her vocals in all of her songs are truly a marvel, and still influence a "whoa" between today and the first time I heard her voice. Secondly, her and the group has never claimed to be anything other then a group. Sure there was that weird rumor going around that they were a Christian band, but unlike most bands that work WAAAAY to hard on their image, Evanescence has always seemed to be dedicated to music. I'm not a crazy fan (i.e. know every little factoid about them), so I believe this gives me a level headed view. And to prove it, I will say their music videos are somewhat lacking in creativity and atmosphere.
Finally, (and ya'll knew this was coming) she is what I believe to be picture perfect in terms of the type of woman I would go for. After watching their "Anywhere But Home" videos from the tour, given she did fall for the lead singer of Seether (ugh), she's very human and very approachable. Most of all she's not afraid to down a big ass plate of McDonalds.

So there you have it. Amy Lee of Evanescence is my #1 Blog Hero for the fact that she has talent, style, and looks. I figured it was going to come out at some point during my future blogging endevors, so I thought I'd just get it out of the way now.

Return from My Void

Haven't posted for the past few days as I was home in a small, po-dunk college town I spent almost 20 years growing up in. I was there with a friend visiting the parents and doing the only thing there is to do in that crappy town, get tanked.

A bit more background on myself. Since the age of about 3, when I decided first to join the Army, my parents ingrained in me the fear of doing drugs as it might destroy my chances of entering the service. Fortunately, the fear sank in and I never touched the crap. For as we all know, the three things to do in a town that is small and insignificant is: 1) Drink, 2) Drugs 3) Sex....with an arguable 4) Vandalism (but that's a whole separate posting).

Suffice to say, I would usually go out around 9 pm, and start off slow to warm up the ol' blood stream, and usually drink heavier and heavier as the impending last call grew closer and closer. Usually the night is finished out with a shot of some unholy multi-drink concoction that usually either blacks me out, makes my kidneys hurt the next morning, or both.

This visit, I had neither of these ailments as I have recently begun exploring the vast world of beer. I've never been clear as to what the difference was between an ale, stout, etc.etc.etc. But I am well versed in the fact that if you chug a bottle of gin like it's a canteen and you've been out in the desert for a week, you WILL fall out of a second story window because you thought it would be a good idea (yet another post).

In the process of drinking with one friend in particular, I was getting a drink when I turned around to see he had made a friend. A woman who claimed it was her 40th birthday (he is 28 mind you), had bellied up at the table next to him. She was rotund from the apparent love of beer she has (she claimed to be on her 4th pitcher) and had a face like Hitler. I realized my friend needed saving, but not before I had my bit of fun with this newly found awkward moment. In sitting back down, I began immediately talking my friend up about how great of a guy he was and how he just loved conversations with strangers as he found this exciting (totally not true). The jabberwocky-esq woman inched progressively closer amid my friends now hateful glare at me. Before the funfilled event could take a fatal turn, I looked at my cell phone (which was off at the time) and stated that we needed to finish up and head to a different bar as we (actually) had friends waiting for us. No sooner did I say this then my friend calmly said "okay", and POUNDED his long island like the cure for cancer was at the bottom of the glass. Much to the dismay of abhorrent intruder, we left the bar, where I was subsequently half chased to the next bar by my friend of whom I had sicked the woman on. I bought him another long island and he didn't beat me senseless.

My finishing thought is simple. Booze can get you in to some serious pickles. I alone have fallen from a window, urinated on a Post Office, sprinted into a parked car, fallen asleep in a bramble bush, woken up in my own sick with 5 minutes to be to work, made booty calls, and so forth. During my time in military law enforcement, I called it "liquid stupid" as opposed to "liquid courage" because the majority of the time, people were just plain stupid. All this in mind, no preaching about moderation, just this: Booze is delicious, and any hangover you can get up and walk away with is beautiful!

Take It To The Pit!

Just remembered a morale device that was useful in the Army that would shock the hell out of my civilian co-workers (especially because it would be presented by HR).

A device known as "the pit".

The Pit was an approximately 8' by 8' sand filled box (or ground tires if you prefer) that would be strategically located near all main company areas. If two soldiers had a disagreement, the could agree to take it to the pit. There, their BDU tops came off (for those non-military, the "coat" over their brown t shirt) and the would begin to duke it out. The only rule was once the other person tapped out, it was over. Obviously the code of conduct was no biting or moves that would lead to life long injury. But male, female, rank, it pretty much didn't matter.
The morale part was ironically it seemed it actually brought two soldiers closer together. Because once it's over, the winner technically won the dispute, and helps the other one off the ground...and will most likely buy him/her a beer.
Does the Army as an institution approve of this? No. Could I imagine a bunch of corporate suits going at it in a pit built in the middle of a conference room. Please give me time to laugh and pick myself up off the floor. Would it still build morale? Maybe.

Boozin' With the Bogey

In early this morning to get a few things done before I call it a half-day and head out to Idaho to visit the parents for the weekend.
Suprisingly enough, I don't have much of a hangover from drinking last night. I went to the usual bar I'm attempting to make "my bar", which looks like someone's crappy attempt at making a bar in the basement, only it's located in the back of an Indian restaurant. So to top off the old school Christmas lights (the kind that burn houses down) and the jukebox that plays only Ratt, there's the constant smell of curry lingering in the air. Fortunately the bartender named Bogey, who kinda looks like the cop from Dumb and Dumber, makes the meanest long island on earth. The only to caveats to this is that 1) you can only have 3 drinks of that kind (i.e. long island, black opal) and 2) if you get too rowdy, he dumps a bucket of ice over your head. No seriously, I saw him do it. Awesome place to drink, and an awesome guy to make the drinks.
So the drinking was pretty good last night, except for the one person (I say it because there's always one) that trys to talk to you all night and won't get the hint to shut up. Worst yet, the women hadn't even drank that much yet, so I couldn't blame it on the alcohol.

Why The Hell Not?

List of random things I really wanted to do today, but had neither the location nor the means to do them:

1) Run through a library with bicycle horns duct taped to the bottoms of my feet.

2) Stand in a bathroom and offer a delicious plate of brownies to someone everytime they wash their hands

3) Tear off a massive belch in a meeting with a minimum of 12 people and go back to work like nothing had happened

4) Enter an elevator with other people and immediately sit down facing a corner

5) Challenge and have someone accept to a pickle brine chugging contest

6) Use the phrase, "Oh yeah? Well I got your job application right freakin' here"

7) Figure out why whenever the "how much would a woodchuck" riddle comes up, no one ever bothers to figure out how big the woodchuck is

Explaining My Paper Trail

I realized I should probably do the typical thing and explain briefly who I am.

Meat market stats aside, I'm a 27 year old human resource manager for a medical information communications organization. I recently took this job after a very large mistake of a 6 month tour in the K-Mart store leadership training program. Before that I served 5 years as an Officer in the US Army Military Police Corps.

After a 10 month tour in Iraq, I separated from my desire for public service and decided to settle a bit more from myself. Rants to compare K-Mart v. Iraq to come later.