Stop With The Pickle Shooting Trains

So today I received a telemarketer call...at work. And for those of you who are familiar with the 1-800-Donotcall...apparently it only works on private numbers and residences.

So I instead opted for the 1-800-losemymind and proceeded to make it clear that I do not, indeed, need to lower my mortgage payments...especially at work.

Stop The Ride, And Let Me Off!

I'd like to think that my typical weekday is filled with the same schedule. This usually is: wake up, gym, get ready for work, work, home, video games, watch Scrubs, eat, go to bed. I try not to deviate from this because it's usually best left to the weekend, where I'm more prepared to handle any type of deviations. Today so far I've witnessed several, what I refer to as "Salvador Dali" moments, because I saw them, but for some reason, my mind will simply not allow them to be processed like normal information.

1) I saw a VERY attractive woman today in the car next to me on the way to work. The kind of girl that would make me stutter to talk to. And she was picking her nose like it had the cure for cancer inside it. I mean DRILLING for oil!!

2) Was in the bathroom, when I heard a guy take an enormous duke, I heard the toilet paper roll spin once, and he walked out. Didn't even wash his hands.

3) Went to make coffee this morning. Turned on the coffee pot, left the room for about 3 minutes, came back, the pot was full.

And the more ironic then hard to comprehend was, I found $21 in my car to which I commented on my good fortune. Then promptly remember that I forgot my access card to get through the front door of my work.

"Chow Time is Choice Time"

After grappling with several rather depressing issues, everything for the weekend is looking on the up. I plan to eat alot of pizza this weekend, get a hair cut (because I look like a freakin' hippy), and start the gym fresh on Sunday.

Although I've been essentially crippled by fear about these issues over the week, it's really taught me that you continually forget everything you have, including your friends and your health, when it's put in danger.

That being said and the touchy music done playing, I'm off to close out my work day and go home!

What's Got Two Thumbs And Slowed On Drinking?

"Brrrinnng it down a notch, Scotty!"

"Flippin' Sweet!"

As mainly pointed out by Jim Gaffigan, I noticed something today when we had a birthday party at work involving cake.

When evaluations are due, when training records are due, hell, even when I ask for an e-mailed response from people about certain items when those are due, I never get 100% participation. At most I get about 70%.

HOWEVER

When it's someone's birthday and there's cake involved, EVERYONE including some people I don't know show up.

Civilians!

I Only Need A Moment To Breathe

Memento Mori

Where In HR Land Is Yours Truly?

I bet you're wondering where my post for the 19th was, or possibly even thinking to yourself "I knew he'd run out of stuff to write about eventually". Well, sorry to disappoint you.

I spent the better part of a whole day in mediation yesterday, representing my company against someone who was suing us of an employment related claim. This being my first mediation, I had pictured us behind one desk facing the other party behind another desk, us facing each other, and simply going at it for 8 to 10 hours, until we decided whether to settle or not.

This is absolutely wrong.

We were in one room, the other party was in another room. I never even got to meet the people I had read so much legal paperwork on. The mediator then went between the rooms, trading messages like we were in Junior High again. Ugh. Pointless.

(Eventually we did settle, but after a day like that, I would have rather kept going with the busy work of fighting this)

Receipes For Disaster

So pretty much since the middle of college, I have operated on a stable of heavy carb based foods. I already know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. Despite the "carb-hate" that has currently saturated the diet industry, I am rail thin. The trick with eating carbs is EXERCISING. Hell, that's the trick with any food you eat.

My carb base has always operated off three staples. 1) Ramen, 2) Burritos, 3) Fritos. The various combinations of these three foods has kept me going for years! (Not to forget the occasionally multi-vitamin)

My choices are usually either:

1) Two El-Monteray Beef n' Bean Burritos

Nuked 2:45

Covered with Fritos (usually Chili Cheese), sour cream, salsa

Add LOTs of hot sauce

or

2) Two packets of random flavored Ramen

Boiled until soft

Add two cut up hot dogs, 1/2 can green beans, & yep...Fritos (about a handful)

Add ALITTLE hot sauce (unless it's cold outside)

You may laugh all you want, but this is my primary diet, and I can promise I still am no punk on the treadmill.

Turning Paper Wheels With Pencil Laden Spokes

Today actually turned out to be a pretty good day at work. Got to work through alot of insurance issues, unemployment, lawsuits, and the ultimate...I got to file this company's first EEO-1 report.

You might think this pathetic to say the least, and I also do (compared to the fact that two years ago I was in charge of killing people) but this is the deal. Something about me hates idol hands. Whenever I'm at work, I think I'm a freak because I love it when things are going to absolute hell.

This happens less then you think in HR. The worst thing you could do in HR is possibly let a racial slur slip (which would END your job immediately), and "all hell breaking loose" is defined as having multiple hires and fires (sorry...separations) at the same time, and having to get all the paperwork for benefits done on them right away.

Oh well, I'll take what I can get I guess.

Christmas Came Early....Again

So despite proclaiming that I would have no such participation in any weekend debatchery...

let's just say you could add my liver to the Great Wall of China

Blonde Girl + (Enter Mechanical Device) + Horror Film = Doomed!

So as I was riding in an elevator yesterday, I had an epiphany.

Everyone has seen the scene in scary movies where some hapless victim is outrunning the bad guy, somehow gets to an elevator (instead of the stairs, being faster), and uses the "Close Door" button.

As we all know, this button does not immediately close the doors.

I wonder if anyone that has ever designed or built elevators, sitting in the movie audience thought "hmm, we should really make that button have a better response time."

Would You Like To Attend The Boot-Butt Banquet Sir?

Someone a bit ago asked me what I miss the most about the Army. Although my initial intent was to respond with the usual "long hours, even longer deployment, and rapidly flucuating quality of leadership", I decided to go with the truth: I miss whoopin' ass.
During my stint in the Army, I was fortunate enough to spend 1.5 years as the Provost Marshal Operations Officer. For those non-Army types, this was essentially the "Chief of Police". I was responsible for the day to day running of all security forces on a military installation of about 24,000 people, massing about 40,000 acres. Given there were days this job was less glamorous then it sounds, it had it's moments.
Those moments were usually on the weekends or during a dry spell in the office when I'd gear up in Military Police crime fighting gear, hop in a patrol car, and go "fight crime". This was looked down upon by my leadership for generally three reasons:

1) Officers (I was a Lieutenant at the time) are usually expected not to do any type of manual work that Enlisted Soldiers do (patrolling is considered an Enlisted Task)

2) Most Military Police Officers hate law enforcement. Unfortunately, I joined the Army because I LOVE law enforcement.

3) I had the knack for getting into the worst crap imaginable, arresting it, and bringing it back to the station.

Given I've never had the opportunity to shoot at any one, guns have been drawn, batons have been swung, and pepperspray has been fired off. Military Police patrols are very dynamic due to the fact that 90% of patrolling is sheer boredom. While patrolling, the only real way to keep yourself amused is to actually look for trouble. Given this, should you yourself (because they were usually 1 man patrols) get into a something in a bad way, every bored MP in a 10 mile radius would drive through peoples houses to get to the action. Maybe not always to save your hide, but at least they'll be there.
My constant thought as I was charging either into a house first (which seemed to always happen) or when I was taking on more then one drunk, I could go in swing because I was confident I would have about a dozen battle hungry MP's there in less then 2 minutes. So all I had to do was survive for that time, and I was golden.
And believe me, there were a few times that I'm glad they were bored.

"And Pull Your Damn Pants Up! What's Wrong With You Kids These Days?!"

So let's talk about a disturbing trend that I believe has now passed. This would be the art of "roof jumping". I can remember there being little murmor of this when I was younger, but the idea of jumping off a roof (onto anything other then ALOT of fresh snow) just struck me as stupid. Plain ass stupid. Being from the school of stupid things kids do, I've graduated most courses to include:

- Throwing fire crackers bare handed
- Covering myself in off and jumping through camp fires
- Flooding outhouses
- Driving on ice covered roads in a 1979 GM station wagon with no headlights and bald tires
- Pushing over half rotted trees around crowds of people
- Getting tabasco sauce on my hands then going to the bathroom

Yes, all of them carried consequences...but nothing comparable to a telescoped spine, displaced hip, or compound fracture of the tibia.

And if you think jumping off a roof alone is colossially stupid, watch this next clip. (And I warn you not to if you're squimish about pain *nothing graphic*)



Where the HELL are their parents??

Candy Is Dandy, But Liquor Is Quicker

So let's talk about something that no one should ever do. It's pretty fairly obvious, but it never really seems to dawn on you until you're in the moment.

I call it the "Everclear & 7Up" one-two punch. Discovered on accident while on a mission to relax, I had realized that I was out of booze. Peering into my "liquor cabinet" (actually where I put that, phone books, and cooking oil), I saw the following and thought.

"Hmm...Rum I brought back from Puerto Rico? Nah. Gonna save that"

"Hmm...Absinthe? Blech. I'm not drunk enough to drink that bottled elm ass"

Then I noticed the two ENORMOUS jugs of Everclear smiling at me, side by side. The Everclear that I had used to make absinthe. At this point, I was mulling over all the spodi-related horror stories of Everclear and how you actually can run any gas operated machine on it. "Hell why not, the human body is pretty resiliant".

So I went to mixing the Everclear about 1/5 to 4/5 7Up (the fluffy diet kind with lime that Oregon-B picked up while here). I noticed as I poured the soda into the alcohol, it barely has enough time to fizz up before receeding quickly. I looked at it up against the light as though I had created a mutagen (which I still might be for my liver).

As I took a sip, I expected my pants to catch on fire like it did when I pounded a shot of the "2nd try" absinthe I'd created (1/2 Everclear & 1/2 Vodka). Suprisingly it was the sweetest concoction on Earth. My theory is the Everclear being soooooo clean of any type of additive or impurity, although strong when drank straight, when cut with something bubbly and cold, it is DANGEROUS (and tasty).

So now to ensure I don't pickel my innards at an alarming rate. I allow myself the drink (which I have dubbed "Clearly Fucked Up") only twice a week, and no more then two servings per sitting. I haven't had a hang over because I've found it to be perfect in "getting you there", without filling up or tasting like a cat shat in your mouth the next morning.

Call Me When You Least Want Me To Hear From You

Odd situation today as I went to take my mid-morning bathroom call:

- Strange Situation - I walked into the bathroom and heard someone in the stall talking to himself

- Stranger Situation - I realized he was talking on his cell phone

- Even Stranger Situation - He kept talking, even though he heard (and probably saw my feet) sit down in the stall next to him

- Strangest Situation- I found myself not wanting to flush while he was in mid sentance because I didn't want to be rude. WTF?

(*And should you be curious about what he was speaking of. Apparently he owns a scooter and a motorcycle with a side car, and I guess the alignment on the motorcycle is off, and the scooter needs a tune up. I heard all of this and more while I was busy attempting to muffle my laughter)

Need Alittle Help Here!

So apparently in Seattle it's pretty much acceptable practice to NOT install air conditioners in apartments. The construction personnel must have thought that it never gets above 70 degrees in this state. So I spent all night tossing and turning in the horrific heat, with only a fan (that turns) blowing on me once in a while (thank you Lowes, it is indeed an awesome fan).

I show up this morning to work completely devoid of energy and in need of large amounts of fluidic intake. Can we say LONG DAY?

Fire It Up!

So this year I took a hiatus from blowing things up and merely laid in bed and listened to what sounded like my entire block exploding, several pieces at a time. Then this morning I listened to the news about all the people that were maimed by firework accidents, ironically none of them that was their fault.

I then reflected even further back on my childhood, back to the days I used to make makeshift bombs out of components of several fireworks. I find it rather amusing and am waiting for scientists to explain why young boys (and some girls) are automatically ingrained with the ability to do novice ordinance work as a youngster. I can remember building bombs with friends that decimate mailboxes, portable outhouses, and small animals (don't worry, I never blew up small animals).

But let me tell you what, you haven't lived until you've had a black cat explode in your hand because you meant to throw it out your car window, until you realized it was rolled up. Brilliant!

Sonofabitch

Early release from work today due to 4th of July falling on a Wednesday. So due to our early release, this apparently is the civilian translation for "you might as well not even come in to work today".

What's worse? I called one of my bosses that works on the East coast at 9:30am my time/ 12:30pm his time. Despite his "I'll be working from home" note yesterday, it sounded like I just woke him up. I love the civilian workplace!

Oh, and for those of you not fortunate enough to experience it, when people are given the option and choose to "work from home". This translates to "I'll send an email once an hour while I drink a beer in my pajamas and watch A-Team reruns".

Hells yes.

The Usual Surreal Experiences

So I'm now resting after a fun filled weekend of booze and bad food. Oregon-B and his girly girl came to visit and we had a kidney stomping good time, and managed to stay inebriated for about three days straight. I've manage to add the following absolutes to my arsenal of known facts:

o Bob Saget, in person, is the raunchiest stand up you'll ever see

o Greasy Food + Cramped Seating at Theater + Heat = Bad, bad visit from the Dookie Monster

o The movie "Equalibrium" does make a good drinking game movie

o Sushi makes waaaaay better hangover food then it does "I'm drunk right now" food

o The Kings Cup drinking game is just as lethal as ever