Should We Really Be Shocked By This?

Finally....finally, finally, finally...

In this story, the Duggar's (aka Baby Factory and Crappiest Parents Alive) latest pregnancy ended up in miscarriage.

Now I could go completely un-pc right now, and just eviscerate them in every sense possible with an "I finally told you so" the size of a planetoid. But it's just too easy.

Here's an idea, you have 19 kids. STOP BREEDING.

Man...Bachelorhood Blows...

So last week I posted a few semi-insane posts (can't...post...while...drunk) that only followers who receive my posts via email were "lucky enough" to receive.

Everyone else was spared from what was supposed to be the cynical, semi-laughable posts which I ordinarily shoot for. Whether it's ripping on fat people, or making fun of products (Snuggie) that (Snuggie) shouldn't (Snuggie) exist (Snuggie), I try to keep my posts pointed and at least able to arouse a dark hearted chuckle at least every now and again.

A couple of weeks ago, my significant other moved out leaving me to my own devices in a huge apartment. While I certainly enjoy not having to eat over the sink, and spitting in the shower, it's been a pretty long time since I was living on my own (try since 2005) so it's still a pretty big spinning ball to grasp.

The light side is that I'm no longer required to game in my nerd cave on my tiny 27" CRT tv, but instead, can game on the 42" plasma in the living room. I can eat Jack In The Box every night of the week (although, I wouldn't try it and/or recommend it), and I can burp as loudly as I want.

The obvious downside is that it takes time to get used to living alone again. I remember when I first joined the Army and it was my first time living alone. It was terrifying at first as I was living in a two bedroom town house (with 2 floors...get this, $425 a month...but again... it was the middle of Missouri), but after a while, it was totally my fortress of solitude. Despite the lack of furniture and the fact that I lived there 2 years before I bought a vacuum, it was the pimpinest bachelor pad ever.

The take away? If you're soon going to be living on your own...hang on tight!....And buy an Xbox!

Let's Talk About Karma

fig. 1-1 Yeah, I was disturbed by this picture too.

I know, you're probably thinking "Azurael...what the hell am I looking at". You're looking at Lynx and Lamb Gaede, the lead singers of the band "Prussian Blue". An obviously white supremisct group that involved two teenage, brainwashed girls.

Now a few reasons to hate them citing some information about the group:

"Prussian Blue was a white nationalist pop pre-teen duo formed in early 2003 by the mother of Lynx Vaughan Gaede[1] and Lamb Lennon Gaede,[2] sororal twin girls born on June 30, 1992, in Bakersfield, California.[3] The twins referred to the Holocaust as a myth[4] and their group was described as racist and white supremacist in nature...."

annnnnnndddddd

"The band was named after the color Prussian blue. In an interview with Vice Magazine, the twins stated, "Part of our heritage is Prussian German. Also our eyes are blue, and Prussian Blue is just a really pretty color." They also remarked, "There is also the discussion of the lack of 'Prussian Blue' coloring (Zyklon B residue) in the so-called gas chambers in the concentration camps."

So yeah, couple of know-it-all pre-teen twins that are supposidely "brainwashed" from their parenting. Riiiiiggghhhhttt. My parents raised me a certain way, and I was already disagreeing with that shit by the time I was 10.

No sympathy. When I first heard about this pair of sisters, I was pissed. Then much to my delight, I found the following out about them today:

"But both girls say the hardest part of the whole experience was dealing with the media, which they believe routinely misrepresented them and sensationalized their beliefs. Their time in the limelight subjected them to extraordinary stress, and appears to have contributed to severe health problems for both sisters. Lynx was diagnosed with cancer during her freshman year of high school and doctors removed a large tumor from her shoulder. Then she developed a rare condition called CVS, cyclic vomiting syndrome.

Lamb has struggled as well. She suffers from scoliosis and chronic back pain, as well as lack of appetite and intense emotional stress. During several of our conversations, she burst into tears as she agonized about how to balance her love for her mother with her desire to let the world know that the girls have moved on.

Approximately a year ago, Lamb and Lynx stumbled on a new treatment that they say has done wonders for many of these ailments.

“I have to say, marijuana saved my life,” Lynx told me. “I would probably be dead if I didn’t have it.” She discovered pot while recovering from her cancer treatments. She’d been prescribed morphine and OxyContin, which she quit cold turkey. One day when she was having a bout of nausea, a friend offered her a toke. She was reluctant at first. The girls’ biological father had been “a druggie” when they were young, Lynx said.

But the drug worked wonders, and soon Lynx became one of the first five minors to get a medical marijuana card in Montana. Now Lamb has one, too." Source

OH MY GRAVY. FINALLY, the giant three-assed beast that is Karma has swatted the shit out of people that need a good swattin'. One get's Cancer, and the other gets Scoliosis? Damn!

Now I have a saying, which you may have heard from "Scary Stories To Tell In the Dark." Is subscribed to "never ever laugh when the hearse goes by, for you may be the next to die". Well, in this case, they ain't dead, and I'm laughing my fucking ass off.

Even when they're trying to "move on" Lamb is telling us that everyone needs to "fricken" deal with it, and that Churchill was not one of the good guys? Fuck, that's the worst sense of remorse I've ever seen.

I'd tell you two dumbasses to get on the wheel, but I don't need a fucking puker and a cripple slowin' it down.

Welcome To My World...The World Of Full Blown Fucking Cynicism

fig. 1-1 Yes, that is a snake in a bottle of tequila.

I've been gone from the blogosphere for a while, why? Well, I'm not that open of a blogger yet, anonymity aside.

But I'm back, with my trusty old ass Razor phone (no...not the new one...the old ass one) and I've decided to start including snapshots of my reality into my blogs.

Yes, now you the read too can enjoy the disturbing details that is my life.

Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Microwave Mess In A Can! How Convienent!

I'm coming off of my brief haitus from blogging to bitch about Campbell's "Soup At Hand" product.

This item is basically soup in a microwaveable cup that you just "heat and sip". Well folks, it's just not that easy.

If you read the label, you'll find the very small warning "Uneven microwave heating may cause popping, movement of the cup and/or splattering". How about plain ol fuckin' tipping over on its side and flooding every crevas of inside your microwave with impossible to clean soup?

I had heated one of these once before, and the instant I noticed it was "popping" (read: literally bouncing up into the air an inch), I stopped the microwave and decided to drink luke warm soup instead of running the risk of losing it.

Today, I somehow forgot to keep a mean eye on this and sure enough, came back to it on it's side an my office's microwave flooded in "Chicken with Mini Noodles". Awesome. After spending an embarassing 10 minutes wiping out our microwave with approximately 20 brown papertowels, I got to enjoy the tepid 1/5 remaining contents of the can. Mmm mmm that was worth $1.50.

What I don't understand is that Campbell's is already aware of this problem. They never would have put the "popping" warning on the side had they not been aware of it. And yet they continue to make the container in the shape of an hour glass with the bottom slightly smaller than the top.

If they had any sense, they'd shape it more like a beaker (or a spill proof coffee mug) or at least with a flared bottom.

Instead, they got their $1.50, my co-workers got a messy ass microwave, and I got nothing but hunger.

Thanks Campbell's!

"I'm Not Too Overqualified To Pay My Rent"

Dear All Human Resource Recruiters Everywhere (except that one woman in West Seattle),

You need to get off your goddamn high horse in that giant ass ivory tower your in.

Just because they say you're the "gatekeeper" of the business doesn't mean you can put your own personal slant on who you should hire. That's not your fucking job. Your job is to support the needs of the HIRING MANAGER.

Go fuck yourselves and die.

All my love,

Azurael

"Azurael, Azurael, Where Have You Been...?"

I should say London to see the Queen, but I've actually been burning up 10 hour days at work getting my ass kicked by my multitude of bosses.


Livin' the dream right?

Once Again, I Scream Bullshit Sandwiches

Once again, the justice system has miscarried all over the floor, and the table, and the chairs, and the walls, and the...you know what...we'll just need a few mops.

I could go into how this court case got messed up, or how we're freeing a couple who is guilty as all shit...but I'm not going to. Amanda Knox did that shit, and once again, a murderer goes scott free.

The takeaway from this, quoting a coworker "it's a good year for murdering people and getting away from it if you're a hot chick."

Yeah, I quoted it.

Had Amanda Knox been a dude, this would have been a non-issue. Or semi-ugly for that matter.

TEH FAIL.

"Uh....I Already Served My Country."

I went to the courthouse today as I was summoned to Jury duty. I now know what purgatory must be designed to feel like.

Three hours I sat in a massive room with several hundred other people, listening to faint Muzak playing, watching people getting lost in their own brains. Bad day to be hungover to say the least.

Upon showing up, we had to document as to whether we had a problem charging someone with various crimes, and if a trial (which would end MID NOVEMBER) would result in a hardship for us. The answers for those questions were no and HELL TO THE YES! I can't leave my work for almost 2 months and live off $10.

I thought some people liked jury duty, but not after this experience. Hell, even the people working for the Courthouse were talking about how much jury duty sucks.

Blech. Thank gravy for the hardship clause. Hearing my name called to be excused was like a won a mini-lottery.

Awesome.

Bonus Blog! Synthetic Delights

There are alot of things that make me angry in the world. And when I get angry, I get angry for a long time.

Then I see Anne Hathaway in a catsuit and boots...and suddenly everything is okay in the world.

Then I see Gary Oldman standing behind her looking all frumpy and I become sad.

Oh well.

Any More Often, And I'd Climb Over That Counter

I've only been to the DMV several times in my life. I lucked out early on because if you're in the military, they give you your ID for something crazy like 10 years. Had to go in today, thinking that it would be like it has been the few other times I've gone...mostly uneventful.

I was wrong.

It always starts out with that weird "take-a-number" lottery game, when you get to find out whether you've won and get to be helped right a way, or if you'll need to set up like you're stranded in the woods for days.

Happened to me, I pulled 178 and they were currently on 119. Awesome. On top of that, despite they had 5 windows built, there were only 2 windows actually running.

The customers were no easy going either. The worst were the ones who when their number was called, you could see them toting a massive pile of paperwork to the front window. "I had my arms surgically replaced with stalks of celery and wanted to apply for a new DL. This should be all the paperwork I need. Oh, and I'm paying in old, discarded 1915 stock certificats". There were people that were up at the window for easily 20 minutes. Then when my turn rolls around? Get up there, sit, tell the guy my address, I need a new ID, pay him $25, done. Literally 3 minutes. What the fuck is everyone else doing there that it would require so much time? I think they should have time limits. If they can't get their shit fixed in 10 minutes, they need to go to the back of the line.

And furthermore, DMV goers, if the line is an eternity and you want to help us all out, don't give your low numbered ticket away to someone else. You're just fucking the entire room by doing that. If they're at 100, and you have 115, and you decided to bolt because you gotta get back to work, don't give your 115 to a person who has a 190. Why? Because I might have 116. Hell, the majority of the room probably have a 116 or above. So by doing this, instead of eliminating yourself from in front of me and helping out me and everyone behind you...you've basically taken the person from the back of the line and put them in your place. Honestly.

Third...let me get this straight. You're going to whole up a bunch of people in your waiting room for expected hours at a time, even put a pot of coffee in there, and not allow us to use the bathroom? Is this some messed up joke? You don't want to see where my priorities are if you're at 100, and my number is 110 and there's a garbage can close to me. I will seriously bust a leak in your waiting room because there is no way in hell I'm going to go to a bathroom somewhere else, come back and pull 224.

And finally, no...I won't fucking smile for my ID. I haven't smiled in any professionally related pictures in the history of my existance on this Earth, and after waiting 2 hours filled with people that smell like Russian cab drivers and beets, I refuse to smile for you. Take my fucking picture, give me my fucking ID card, and shut off.

Wanted: Orbital Ion Cannon

The last two weeks at work have just been super unholy. On top of the multitude of complications of going back and forth between Spokane, combined with a shitty audit at work and just general crappy events, I am ready for this weekend.

As I'm baking in my office due to my building (and most of Seattle) lacking HVAC, I'm remembering back to the days of playing Command and Conquer. And old school top down video game in which your army fights other armys.

Anywho, those memories combined with the current plummeting satellite (UARS) makes me have fond memories of wishing for an orbital satelite which could blast giant laser beams on to certain parts of the planet.

If I had that monster at my disposal, you know I'd be hitting some high priority targets (read: Westboro Baptist Church, the set of "Glee", Paris).

I Did NOT See That Coming...

Got some unexpected feedback on my organizations work performance today. Let's just say...not good.

To top off that treat, it's been eerily quiet in my bosses office. I hope they're not planning on a surprise firing at the end of the day.

You Want Me To Do What?

I've been going to the gym quite a bit with the intent to bulk up. According to my trainer, the only way I can do this is if I eat like a sumo wrestler with a gland problem.

Look, since pretty much the beginning of College, my breakfast has typically consisted of a big mug of coffee and whatever is in my console of my car on the way to work. The idea of waking up and eating a "hearty breakfast" is more disturbing to me than a oral bowel movement.

I've been trying to muscle down a protein bar, but it's pretty nauseating. Believe me I can eat when other people can't. Typically watching porn is the best time to get down on some pizza and beer.

At any rate, I guess I'll just be a skinny twig for the rest of my life.

I Left My Heart In Seattle, And My Fan Belt On I-90

In Spokane today...what should have been about a 4 hour trip ended up going actually to about a 9 hour trip. Why you ask? Well funny you should ask.

In classic bullet format:

- 0730 - Leave Seattle en route to Spokane driving my Prius I just got back from the dealer yesterday.

- 0855 - The red ! pops up on my read out, telling me I have something wrong with my engine (I ask car manufacturers why go with a "!" when it might as well be a "you're fucked!")

- 0935 - With the assistance of Google and a Garmin, I find a small old timey auto shop (read backwoods and hillbilly) in Snoqualmie.

-0940 - The mechanic, along with my help, trouble shoot the problem of why my car over heated. Got enough coolent. Hmm.

-0941 - Some teenager (who stood silently and watched the mechanic working on another car), presumably his apprentice, points out that there's a belt missing. The fan belt.

-0945 - Mechanic calls several auto parts store, who apparently have never heard of a 2005 Prius needing a fan belt.

-0946 - Mechanic locates a fan belt at a local Napa dealership. Says he can begin work by noon.

-0947-1005 - I awkwardly putter around in my car, waiting for the mechanic to tell me where I can wait. During this time, he's just working on another car.

-1005-1240 - I bid adieu to the mechanic for a while to go on a walk to get out of the "shop" (two sheds bolted together). End up going to a park, following a trail which leads to an opening near the Snoqualmie river. There I sit on a rock, eat a sad little protein bar, and chill.

-1241-1250 - Move back to a nearby park to once again, sit.

-1251-1257 - Get approached by a 900 year old guy with apparent scoliosis. Only when he's 10 feet in front of me I realize he's carrying a bible and several brochures.

-1258-1300 - "Gus" from the Jehovah's witnesses drops by to give me some reading materials. Gets my name wrong. Both to me (i.e. "Good to meet you *WRONG NAME*) as well as who was driving the car (i.e. "Good guy that *WRONG NAME*). - Authors note...yes, I will be polite, even to a Jehovah's witness. Can't fault a guy for trying to spread what they believe is right...even though Jehovah's witnesses are out of their fucking mind.

- 1301 - 1310 - Much needed deuce from the sad protein bar in a park bathroom I can only describe as being from the set of one of the Hostil movies.

- 1310-1315 - Mosey back to the shop praying my car is fixed.

- 1316 - Get back to the shop, belt is on, with mystery fluid under my car.

- 1317 - 1330 - Let my Prius run to find out both if my car is going to explode as well as if the myster fluid under the car is mine.

1331 - 1335 - My boss calls, having recieved my VM from the morning, laughing about how it sucks to have broken down.

1336-1340 - Wait for someone to move their car who is blocking the bay my car is in.

1341-1345 - Pay the mechanic who has a massive pile of credit card receipts next to his credit card scanner on a tiny plank of wood that can barely be described as a shelf.

1346 - Get the fuck up out of dodge.

1815 - Arrive in Spokane.

Yeah.....let's never do Snoqualmie or my Toyota dealership again.

Fall Is On It's Way!!

And we know what fall means! Boot season! :D

(But for the record, uber pointy boots are lame)

Bonus Blog! Kmart Almost Wiped Me From The Earth

As we approach the September of 2011, I recall joining the military as a bushy tailed eager beaver 2nd Lieutenant in the Military Police Corps of the United States Army. I joined with the intent to become the best at military law enforcement, and a master of the UCMJ (Uniform Code of Military Justice). With my under graduate in Criminal Justice and my family steeped in military tradition, I was ready to rebuild the military one position at a time.

Fast forward 5 years later. The military is giving all the law enforcement and prison jobs to military civilians (i.e. government fucking lackies) and I'm left being painted into a corner of the fact that the Army wants the Military Police to basically troll traffic routes for landmines and be the infantry-in-humvees. My dream is ended and I'm forced into the civilian world.

Armed with a duel Master's degree in HR Management and HR Development, I'm under the assumption that that combined with my 5 years of leadership abilities, that I'll be a prized item to middle management in any organization.

I was wrong.

With 2 weeks or less until my discharge date, I found myself desperate for a job. I went to a job fair under the guidance of a major headhunter organization with the promises of interviewing with several employers. I interviewed with four employers, and the only HR position I applied for, who said I did the best at defining HR practices, didn't hire me. I was hired as a "Store Manager in Training" under the Kmart program.

This means, that after an intensive 6 month training program at a store, I would be given my own store to be in charge of.

I was wrong....again.

After several months of training at a Seattle store, I was reassigned to a store in Tacoma, WA to assist due to the Christmas season (er...sorry, "Holiday season"). I was placed as an "interim" assistant store manager, to finish off my training so I could take my Store Manager position. At the end of 6 months, I was called by the District Manager to inform me that I would be taking a Department manager position at a store that was 2 hours commute from my current address. Mind you...this was on a Friday, and I was expected to report to work at the new store the following Monday.

Rewind about five months.

I came out of the military as a highly educated, highly motivated, highly trained and literally battle tested individual who was ready to raise up any company that would hire me to the next level. Going from a battle tested Captain in the Army to a store-manager-in-training at Kmart, I should have known what was coming.

Fucking booze.

Anyone who has worked retail knows the evils that possess the average white trash shopper when it comes to getting their 10 cent discount on Twinkies and store shelf wine. I remember my first day of training, being accosted by my "training coach" (Kmart refers to managers as "coaches"....probably to be more pc...well know what fuckers, coaches can't fire people and ruin their lives) because I had parked too close too the store. That was "for the customers".

As time drove on, I learned about people having great "shopping experiences", the importance of "facing product" (i.e. making sure there were no holes in the shelves when it came to whatever was being sold), and how important it was to sell totes (because of the markup) and hosiery (yeah...they didn't call it socks...they called it hosiery...hey, the 1870's called, they want their terminology back). And yes, for the record, I'd been yelled at more then a few times for not making sure the product wasn't "hole-free".

Suffice to say, I realized that people who resign themselves to retail are very shallow in terms of what they want to contribute to society. They have essentially resigned themselves in a career while waiting to die. My "coach trainer" at my first store was a guy named "Bob" who was in his late 40's, balding, and looked like he had died inside years ago. I remember one of his first comments to me ....no, to another co-worker about me (with me in earshot) being about how I didn't know "how to use an iron on a shirt". Okay there baldy, I can iron a fucking set of BDU's and field strip a MK-19 in 10 seconds...what can you do? Face the hosiery section?

I delve severely into drinking. And I mean DRINK-ING. I could crush a 5th of a boozy booze called UV Vodka in a night....and naturally report to work the next morning with a crushing hangover and a severe hatred of life.

I wouldn't be lying if I didn't admit that I tried to spend most of my time away from the customer, either in the backroom doing "inventory", or out in the shelves where most people didn't go restocking the shelves.

Reading all of this, most people would believe that it was simply the shock of going from a veteran Captain to a store manager at a retail store that would make me bitter, but no....Kmart had a hand in this.

Kmart has a policy that requires supervisors work a minimum of 55 hours per week. Which basically means that your days off shift every week, and most times, you don't get two days off.

Additionally, probably when times were bad, Kmart decided in their infinite wisdom that, managers can also assist on the floor. So they reduced the people working the sales floor, often leaving customers to wander about with no assistance.

Also...when I was hired, I was sent my benefits package with no explanation from any HR professional (which I would later take up as an HR Manager to promise one-on-one benefits explanations with each new hire).

And, being hired with the promise of being a Store Manager, then deciding I can up and move in the course of 2.5 days....well, that's just shitsville.

I could go on, but I won't. Why? Because it'll just make me want to pick up another bottle of booze, womanize as much as possible (that's a whole different story), and come to work everyday reeking of booze.

Kmart fucking sucks. Not for the fact that they invented the "Blue Light Special", but for how they treat their staff. The hours suck, the customer involvement policies suck, and the stores alone suck. Had it not been for my job with a .com company doing HR Management work, I would have never had a chance to throw my badge and keys on my bosses desk and walk out with both middle fingers busted up high.

So if you ever go to a retail store and have a positive experience, I highly recommend you make sure you compliment the help.

If you ever go to a retail store and have a shitty experience, I highly recommend you rip that fucker a new one on the most public scale possible.

Fuck you Kmart! (oh yeah, and Fuck You Bob! You're still pushing carts and I'm a motherfuckin' Director! Who's got the iron now bitch??)

"Dammit Sir, I Fucking Love Women!!!"

(Authors Note: Serving overseas, the Sergeant I worked with always made it a point to exclaim to me how much he loved women...)

In looking back on some of my posts, in addition to my typical cynical viewpoints (which hey...I'm one cynical guy), I have come off as a bit of a misogynist. Given, I truly hate the gender wars, I'm still a huge fan of chicks. (and if you take offense to me referring to women as "chicks", you should probably go read a different blog).

In typical Azurael bullet list form, this is what I love about chicks:

1) The Ying To My Yang - The most basic element as designed by genetics, women are always there to compliment men. Even gay guys always have super close female friends, there is always the perfect woman to compliment any man out there. While opposites can sometime spark problems, there is obviously an upside to this.

2) Eye Candy - Don't get mad at me about this being #2. Women are just awesome to look at. The fact that women put alot into their looks...be it clothing, hair, whatever, women always make it a point to make sure they're rockin the house when they walk out the door. While it does disturb me that many women take hours to get ready, trust me as a guy, it doesn't go unappreciated.

3) The Smell - Chicks smell amazing. Period. I remember dating one girl in college and I didn't know whether it was her perfume, her shampoo, or even her fabric softener, but good gravy I couldn't get over how awesome she smelled. It was positively intoxicating.

4) The Support - At the risk of sounding like a "sense-y", I like the fact that guys can talk to women about feelings. Yes, we (guys...eerrr, straight guys) have feelings that we're not giant fans of talking about. Obviously, we can't talk to our guy friends about this because they'll probably end up throwing beer cans at us and laughing at us. Women are actually very down to listen to what's in your heart and actually offer some sound, deep souled advice (vs. your guy friend who would say "dude...you sound pretty fucking gay right now).

5) The adventurism in the bedroom - Chicks dress up (reference the image) for the bedroom. True, guys are more visual than women, the fact that women are willing to dress up both for the regular day and in the bedroom in unholy comfortable heels, skirts, corsets, etc..... it's just amazing. If you're a guy, when was the last time your girl asked you to dress up? And did you actually do it? Hmmm....

6) Confidence Sourcing - We as guys are allllllwaaaays guilty of practically breaking our necks when a hot chick walks by us. We try to use our peripheral vision to look, but unfortunately the prehistoric gene takes over and cranes our neck so we can take a mental image to store in our spank bank for later. But when chicks comment on how good we look, or if we catch them giving us the up-and-down, yeah...we feel like the king of the Greek Gods. Even fat chicks count on this one.

I'm going to stop here before I go off on a tangent, but yeah....even as cynical and hateful as I may seem...chicks are pretty fucking awesome.

Work's Pimp Hand Is Still Swingin' Strong

Although this has been a 4 day week, it seems like that 5th day of shit just continually just gets compressed into the remaining 4 days.


I never thought it was possible, but this Friday was the LOOONNNGGEST Friday ever. And not because it's a slow day, but just because this week has been ugly in general.


To top that gem off, I get to go to a work related deal in Spokane next week. Nice. For those not from the Northwest, Spokane is consistantly referred to as "Spocompton" or "Spoke Vegas" because it's a small city with big city problems. The majority of the city is just a shithole and I hve no idea why anyone would want to live there (sorry to my High School friend who lives there).


Anywho, hopefully some bloggy blog this weekend.

Where The Fuck Is My Imodium??!

I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before, but I'm going to cover it again because I recently went through an almost life changing experience.

For those who are just joining us, I am a sufferer of Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or IBS. This wonderful little disease/syndrome/curse from hell causes your bowels to essentially decide for you when you're going to take a deuce. Basically, you'll be sitting there minding your own business when out of know where you get massive lower abdominal cramping (aka the guy code for "Dude, we need to go home RIGHT NOW." - akaka You have to take a massive dook, probably from eating too much PF Changs)

Along with this intolerable urge by your body to take a dump, you get:

- Nervous sweating
- Clammy Forehead, Palms
- Nausea
- Vertigo
- Inability to speak
- Panic
- Intense bouts of Bargaining (3rd step in Grief)

Sounds terrifying? No, this isn't just for us IBS sufferers, this is what anyone goes through then they're about to foam out of their underpants. I may eat the wrong thing and feel this....or a guy could eat a bran muffin, smoke a cigarette, and drink a latte while being stuck in a tunnel in a traffic jam and go through the same thing.

No biggie. The tactic is plan to eat right and to make sure bathrooms are always accessible.

I tell you all that to tell you this.

Typically as a tradition, I like to eat spicy wings on Sunday night, usually while watching True Blood and what not. Normally I spend all day in the office on Mondays, which is convienently located right across the hall from the bathroom. Well, one particular Sunday night a few weeks ago, I was happily mowing down on an unholy amount of chicken wings doused in hot sauce and ranch, when a co-worker reminded me that we had an off site meeting with several clients super early the next Morning. So not only was it early enough that I couldn't "prepare" my guts, but it was also too early for any Imodium to take effect.

Suffice to say the next morning at about 10 am, I had the "bubble guts" which were making noises much like the scene from Dumb and Dumber when Harry has just had the turbo lax, and is driving his Lambo to the Mary's house. Dead in the middle of a meeting with the inability to say "if you'll excuse me a minute, I have to go destroy a bathroom", I suffered through every gut wrenching convulsion of my innards that were now cooking from the previous nights wings.

In can't remember much other than sweating profusely, panicking like I was poisoned, and trying to go to my happiness to block out the pain. The only upbeat part of this epic battle against my innards was the waves of relief that would come when my guts would stop imploding upon themselves. I was fortunate enough to know my coworkers enough to share that we "need to leave right now" as soon as we were done meeting with clients.

So yes, that was a day that will live in infamy, a day that I almost crapped my pants off site, and would have had to drive home approximately 20 miles. Thank crap for small things (i.e. Imodium, Pepto, IBS battle hardened intestinal tract...)

Although I got IBS bad sometimes, I'm probably a mild case compared to other people that have it. I'm not home bound and I don't have "uncontrollable flatulance" which I've actually read about. Things that usually trigger me are spicy foods, dairy, and extreme physical exercise (yeah...I almost dooked on a treadmill another time....).

"The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday"

fig. 1-1 I'm the guy in the glasses (not actually, but for illustration purposes)

There are some days that I just seriously get the shit end of the stick (which is a disturbing saying when you think about it), and today was one of those days.

Regardless, I'm not a fucking Kmart....so all in all, still not a bad day.

Fuck you Kmart!

Somewhere Else I'd Rather Be

I've been working for the same organization for about 2 years now. Began at the bottom of the chain by simply wanting to get my foot in the door, and now I'm a pretty high up on the leadership scale.

I work daily to make lives better for people that are both downtrodden and the community in general. Don't get paid as much as my position probably demands, but it's decent humanitarian work.

.....

That being said, I think I'd still prefer to edit porn for a living.

PAX 2011 Afterthoughts...and Thoughts...and Thoughts

Oregon-B endedup coming up for the weekend, and we attended the 2011 Pax Convention in Seattle.

Few thoughts, in a-typical bullet format:

- It was refreshing to be surrounded by soooo many gamers. Even though some took it alot more seriously than me...nice to finally be in a place that talks my language.

- Booth Babes...best idea ever. And if any models are reading this that have done that kind of work, you're just awesome.

- I'm not entirely sure what someone would do at that place for 3 days, but 1 day seemed good.

-Mental Note: Sleep more before the convention. Gaming conventions apparently involve ALOT of walking.

- Free stuff always a plus. Got my hands on a Halo lego set...which I plan to cover in protective plastic and sit on for 30 years to cash in on Ebay...if Ebay still exists.

- Suprisingly, there were ALOT of women at the convention too. And not the kind that occasionally play some regular Xbox Arcade games. These girls were knee deep in people's asses on the Halo gamecase and such.

- Video games are awesome.

- Booth babes...seriously....awesome.

"Thy Nerdom Come, I Will Have Fun...."

First I would like to apologize for my lack of blogging efforts. In between work, going home to Idaho for a weekend, the new Deus Ex game, and basic debautchery, I just haven't had time (awww...sad face.)

That being said, Oregon-B is heading up to chill with me for a long weekend and we'll be hitting the Penny Arcarde Expo. It will be an awesome experience of playing new games, speaking to designers and producers, and just bathing in general nerdery for a complete afternoon.

Oh yeah, and there'll be bangin' hot chicks there in Cosplay and various other taudry outfits. Totally forgot about that.

Charlie Mike

Pretty rough Monday at work, didn't start well...and just ended up getting obscure towards the end.

Oh well.....continue mission.

"Fear Me!...But Follow!"

Leadership. There are dozens and dozens of theories on the ideas behind leadership.

In my experience, I've found typically a combination of many of them usually works best. I've run into alot of leaders who lead out of fear (i.e. screaming, acting like an ass 24/7) and I've met leaders who are too soft and give too much ground.

Recently I once again had the dubious honor of suspending an employee for acting inappropriately in the workplace. While I never enjoy the discipline aspect of it, there is some level of achievement I feel for wiping out unethical behavior in the workplace. I made this almost a hobby in the Army when I went on the road and sought out Officers who decided they wanted to either throw their rank around, or think they were still in college.

Speaking softly and carrying a big stick is a very strong approach to leadership. When you're working with your subordinates, your job as a leader is to do everything on Earth to support them.

However, when they purposely act insubordinate or refuse to follow orders...well, probably about time to put on the big ol' Iron Fist o' Fury.

"Women Will Always Push Their Values On You"

Now before you bust out the pitchforks, hear me out.

Both genders have their flaws. Guys are positively no better than women. The fun thing about how each gender sucks is that they suck in completely different ways. Guys tend to be abrasive, insensitive dicks. But that's a different blog entry.

I read this article and thought it was mildly amusing because it basically reinforces that guys need "dude time", or else bad things result. It's funnier because it indirectly sheds light on the fact that women do tend to step between dudes and their friends.

Yes, this is the part of the entry where I come off like a misogynistic freak.

As I pointed out, genders tend to suck in their own way. Where guys are complete douche bags, women tend to be mindlessly controlling and for some reason can ultimately end up believing they're your 2nd mother.

One of the most eye opening things I've heard in a while (and subsequently forgot who said) is that "women will always push their values on you". The more I thought about it, the more I tied it to the nature of nagging that some (not all, so put the torches and pitchforks down) women ultimately end up going to.

From the "you're going out with your friends again" whine to the "how many times do I need to tell you to use a dryer sheet" flame.

Look, just because we're in a relationship doesn't mean my friends take a backseat to you. And if I'm going to so far as to doing the laundry, I'm doing it the way I do laundry. I don't want my shirts and drawers smelling like sunshine and meadows of daisies. You don't like the dryer-sheet-free laundry? You do it.

I've had several friends now that once married, were completely cutoff from all society. And it's never a brazen proclamation by the woman saying "you are now my bitch! Grab my beltloop!" It's typically through a system of nagging and guilting. One friend I had for instance, for the duration of a 3 to 4 hour night we'd be out drinking, would result in him getting at least 2 calls from his wife, and approximately 20 text messages.

Again, I caveat...not all women. But a goooood percentage of them are, at least from my foxhole. So the message is this. We as guys need our dude time, and if you attempt to step between us and our friends, you will be painted in a very negative (and probably fairly so) light. If you want us to do chores, you don't get to set the standard as to how they will be done, because nobody made you Queen shit on how to do dishes. And for God's sake, every man has a mother, we don't need two of them.

Economics...You're Doing It Wrong

fig. 1-1 Yes, A Monkey Fucking A Football

As I was sitting at my desk today eating lunch, I heard a very, very loud farting noise off in the distance. While my office is near the staff bathroom, it was not any person that ate the wrong thing.

It was our economy taking a massive dook and stinking up the whole place.

Dropping well over 600 points in one day, the news websites are now littered once again of people at Wall Street looking all sad-trombone-faced and pitful. (Which I don't understand, I mean, it's not their money)

While I am not an economist by any means, what is going on with our economy is a big pile of bull shiite. While I have no silver bullet for the economy, I can generally see the following a problem:

- Politicians duking it out until the last possible minute with this latest "debt ceiling" debacle, and acting like complete children in the process. Screw the Republicans for being dominated by the Tea Party nuts, and screw the Democrats for being ineffectual and rolling over on pretty much all fronts. And screw all involved for the self-congratulatory back patting and hand shaking on a "job well done" while over 80% of polled Americans think they acted like complete douches.

- Volitility. It seems in this day in age that if a mosquito farts in Central Asia, our Dow drops 100 points. I don't get this. "Consumer confidence"? Confidence in what? If Allen Greenspan sneezed the price of oil takes a shit and everyone loses their 401(k)s. How did our system get to this point when it used to be just about buying pieces of a company to make a profit? From what I understand, our giant point loss today was from our loss in credit rating (which, I think we deserve, because we're TRILLIONS of dollars in debt) and from fears of what's happening with Europes economy. Dude...really?

- Visas and Foreign Aid. How in the french fucking toast does our government rationalize dumping millions of dollars into assisting other countries and allowing work visas when our economy is going to hell in a handbasket and we have roughly a 10% unemployment rate. Oh sure, we'll cut spending to domestic programs such as medical benefits and mental health services, and yeah, the 1 in 10 Americans are unemployed, but lets go ahead and send millions of dollars over to Ethopia and give a bunch of Europeans the ability to come over and take our high tech, high paying jobs...get trained, and head home. Look, I'm not saying build a giant wall around the country and change our name to Deutchland. I am saying, we need to focus our financial priorities internally. We can't help anyone if we're going down the pipes. And from where I stand right now, I know when people are crying at Wall Street, bad things are happening.

- Subsidies. Okay, so we're giving money to companies who post annual profits. What? I mean seriously? We pay oil companies to produce oil? The same companies that bend us over at the pump (wow that is rife with innuendo) and have a strangle hold on our energy economy even now? And we're paying farmers to not grow crops so the cost of the individual units go higher? WTF. Who thought of subsidies?

- Tax breaks. I'm not claiming to know anything about tax code. That being said, whatever the tax code is, stick to it. Whatever tax breaks are provided by the President, regardless of the President, should be repealed. Just start over.

- Outsourcing. Yes, I get it. Companies that outsource have a higher profit margin because they capitalize on cheaper labor markets in expanding economies. That being said, I've cancelled credit cards because I didn't much care for the idea that someone literally half the planet away was looking at my stuff and trying to troubleshoot me in broken English. Don't get rid of outsourcing, but tax the holy bejeesus out of it to encourage companies to stay local. If more than 20% of their labor pool is out of the US, then just mark them as a non-US business and hammer punch them fiscally.

While I'm not going to jinx myself by saying I'm in a semi-economy resistant job, I kinda am. And unlike last time when this happened, and I was unemployed for a year, I'm glad I am where I am. But it's about time politicians pulled their heads out of their asses and fixed our shit. And no, don't do it for re-election, do it because it's your fucking jobs.

Where Am I And What's Going On??

Hollywood: Hey Azurael, Anne Hathaway's going to be the next catwoman.

Azurael: What?? Are you serious? God they'll pick anyone for that role! I'm still pissed about Halle Berry!

Hollywood: Well, we're still going to put her in a catsuit and boots.

Azurael: Throw in a motorcycle and you got yourself a deal.

"In All Reality, God Hates You".....

Okay, I promised myself I would never be sucked into the idiocracy that is tween music, but I saw this and I just lost my composure.

Justin Bieber standing side by side with his dad, after getting "Jesus" tattooed on their sides in Hebrew. There is so much wrong with this pictures, I'm just going to drop the fail bomb in bullet style format:

1) Dude, Justin, between you and me. You just standing there with your shirtless father...kinda looking a bit gay yo. Take your hand off his shoulder.

2) Does your dad play the flute? Tell him soul patches are the earmark of douche.

3) I find it disturbing that both of you have the EXACT same body definition.

4) Seriously...take your hand off his shoulder.

5) And finally, for every douche in the world (starting with you and daddy dearest) who gets a tattoo to show their "love of Jesus/God/deity of choice"

"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own" (1 Corinthians 6:19)

- You know what this means winners? If you're so stoked to prove your loyality to God, you're kinda screwing it up by marking up the temple of the Spirit with Hebrew, or Chinese, or whatever the fuck language you find fashionable at the time. If you're going to physically espouse your religious beliefs all over your body, at least take the time to read the fucking user's manual first.

Bieber, stop being weird with your dad, and get on the Wheel. Hebrew? Really?

You're family's German fuckface...here's your Coat of Arms:

And what kind of girl has flowers on his Coat of Arms? God you're a little girl down to your heritage!!

No Carbo Loading Here

fig. 1-1 The Official Shoe of Douches Everywhere

In classic corporate styling, I've spent the last day and a half in meetings with fellow coworkers, accomplishing in 12 hours what could have been done probably in 2, but no matter, I'm still getting paid.

Went to the gym yesterday to do some chest work with my personal trainer. I learned several very awesome things I hope never to relive over the course of my life:

- Panic attacks when you're halfway through doing the incline press of your near max is just awesome. Let's never do that again. Even extra special for my trainer who thought his training methods would be responsible for exploding my heart.

- Had some blonde check staring at me while I was using the cables. Not checking me out, no. She was dead on squared up to me staring at me from about 5 feet away. Per my usual tactic, I completely avoided eye contact as I'm pretty sure it was due to an issue of disgust with me as a person, and not because I look awesome when I'm sweating buckets of sweat.

- Was at day three of not smoking, and remembered that nothing is better after a heavy lift than a cigarette. Man, I miss smoking. So instead I compensated by just coming home and eating a mountain of Dots candies and ramen.

Great.

Bonus Blog! Something Is Now Rotten

Dear MTV,

Happy Birthday on turning 30.

Why do you call yourself MTV? You don't play music videos any more. Hell, even MTV2 doesn't play music videos any more.

All you really do is play nothing but reality tv these days. The Real World started that trend, am I right? How's selling out your entire original fan base so you can show the world how retarded Snooki is?

In closing, to you and everyone currently associated with your network who continues to crap on the original intent of MTV when it was created (while you were still a dirty thought in your fathers brain), go fuck yourselves. The whole lot of you.

Love and kisses,

Azurael

Did I Miss It?

Another weekend has passed on by and I have little to show for it except a haircut and entering day 1 of not smoking (yes again....I know, I posted a while back I stopped...that's before I lost my smart phone and lost track).

As of today, I've had one glass of wine in the last 2 months. Enter into the non-smoking world and the weekends should continue to get much duller. Don't drink, don't smoke...what do I do?

Xbox. Lots of it. And when that gets old, I go back to the old school computer games that literally take weeks to beat (if you're playing them on the right difficulty level).

Oregon-B will be up this next weekend, won't he be dutifully suprised that his drinking buddy is on the wagon. Oh well, nothing ALOT of caffine can't replace!

I don't really have an end date of my prohibition on booze, I guess just when I know I've got a bit more self control and actually remember how to say "when"......oh yeah, and not wake up after a Saturday night bender with someone else's barf on the back of my shirt.

(And for the record, any grown non-Amish adult that says you can have fun without drinking is full of it.)

Bonus Blog! Why Not Be Diet Evil?

Behold....Krystal Meyers. Listening to her music but not the lyrics (and wholly disregarding the crappiness that is this video), her stuff isn't that bad.

Upon closer review, yeah...she's a Christian singer. While I'm not against Christian bands, sometimes they tend to sound a bit the same. She's not bad because she has a wide range of musical sounds.

That all being said, if she went metal, even not totally (i.e. Anthrax but rather Flyleaf) metal...she would be way better.

And for f*cks sake, lose the pink-and-pearl-necklace ensemble. We know you're all good and stuff, but man, don't go cliche on the world.

Does It Hurt To Be So Wrong?

Fi-hinally some justice in this world. Although my current faith in the justice system is currently bubbling around nhil, it's starting to perk up after hearing this glorious decision.

A judge from the San Francisco Supreme court has knocked-the-f*ck-out an initiative that would have banned circumcision from a ballot to be voted on by the (now crazies) people of the area. The judge ruled that it would regulate a medical procedure and that there's point in it being on the ballot.

And on a non-judicial point of view, would have had a disparate impact against religious views that believe circumcision should occur for all males upon birth.

And on a personal view, no, it's not f*cking torture, and it isn't even remotely comparable to female circumcision that damages nerve clusters and results in loss of sensitivity. Just because you a$$holes think that uncut junk is "natural" and "right", doesn't mean you're a few bananas short of a bunch. It's been proven (yes, it HAS been proven) by the World Health Organization to reduce the possibly of certain STD transmissions, PLUS it's easier to keep the cash and prizes clean (i.e. no smegma...yeah, I said it).

First of all, mad props to the Honorable Loretta Giorgi. Good decision judge. You're alright in my book.

Second of all, this now makes me wonder about the legal precendence set about the inability of government to "regulate a medical procedure". Wouldn't this apply to abortion?

I'll stop at that....just makes me think.

Then I think of uncut junk and I throw up.

Where I'd Rather Be....

For some reason, the past few weeks have been pretty uneventful. Getting up at the buttcrack of dawn (well, almost), going to work, plinking through some very minor, unenergizing projects for 8 hours, listening to Jango, and blogging when I get the chance. Then I go home, typically I'll sit on the couch and watch tv until it's bedtime.

I began reflecting on what I used to do in the evenings during the weekend to have fun, and this is what I've boiled up:

- High School: Had alot of friends, and an EARLY curfew...so, not much.

- College: Worked...alot. On top of a full load at school and ROTC labs to tend to.

- Army: Worked. If I got bored, I'd typically throw on my duty belt and go fight crime for 10-12 hours over the evening/weekend. During not that time, I'd sit around my townhouse watching crappy 90's movies or playing long, boring games on my Playstation 2. Or, you know...porn.

- K-Mart: Drank. Alot.

- HR Job: Actually was going out and being quite a bit social. Had lot of friends that didn't end up getting married and/or weird until a bit later on. Probably the height of my social activities since college.

- Unemployment: The day and evening kinda mixed together, so gaming and drinking. And looking for a job. ALOT.

- Currently: Before my hiatus from drinking...drinking. Now, it's either meeting with my personal trainer, drinking tea, playing video games, or...well...porn.

Wow...I need some f**king friends.

Great...Now The World Thinks Were Idiots...Again.

*Sigh* Okay, here we go:

In this article, Glenn Beck pretty much compared the recent young victims of the terrorist attack in Norway as being members of Hitler Youth.

This is ordinarily where I would attack every fiber of his being, to include the fact that he was born in Washington state, his mom (as he reports) committed suicide, most likely because he was the product of a failed abortion that lived. Or just the simple fact that this guy makes Hitler look like a Care Bear.

But this guy is SO F**KING STUPID, I can't really even bring myself to waste my hard earned energy on dumping on ever aspect of this waste of carbon.

So I'd rather just address him directly.

"Dear Mr. Beck,

Why are you so f**king stupid? Are you aware pretty much nobody likes you and you're making Rush Limbaugh look like a genius? Doesn't it bug you that you make Bill O'Reilly look like a moderate liberal? Arn't you concerned that you're slowly making me wonder who I'd rather take a corn laden dump on between you and Ann Coulter?

It's one thing to be a giant bag of retard gas, but when your rants result in sh*tting on victims of another country, implying Nazism against one of our allies in WWII, doesn't that concern you? Just because you're trying to be the worlds biggest a$$hole doesn't mean you need to paint the United States that way.

God if I were you, I'd be depressed because I'd be such a pile of sh*t that no one would waste a bullet on me to shut me up.

STOP TALKING.

Love and regards,

Azurael"

Bonus Blog! Where Were You When I Was Rollin' Die...

This picture is of several Comicon goers this year.

Where were these girls when I was growing up. Wait, let me answer that. They didn't exist yet. Much like the Internet, these girls were not yet in existence.

What makes me even more angry, I can't fathom what women that do this are thinking. Do they know they're driving the nerds bonkers by looking this good (and nerdy)?

But seriously, where the f**k were these women hiding?!

Not Of This World

Along time ago when I was living the great area of Northern Idaho, I had thoughts of living in Seattle. Liked the idea of rain and less than alot of sun.

After several sweltering summers and winters in Missouri, I REALLY wanted to live in Seattle.

And after Iraq, hands down, need overcastness, mild climates, and rain.

Fastforward several years....yeah, I'm done liking Seattle. And you know, it's not really the city itself that I don't like. I actually like the infrastructure of the city. The small neighborhoods, the ranging types of terrain, and a crazy a$$ amount of trees.

No, it's not the city...it's the f**king people. Crackie after crackie, bum after bum, I begin to loathe this place more and more.

But who I am to drone on in narrative? Get your guns cause I got the bullets.

I don't belong in Seattle because:

Food

- If I can't pronounce it, I'm (probably) not going to put it in my mouth. Pear–jicama slaw or Kurobuta bacon? Seriously?

- I refuse to pay $2 more for an onion that is organic, and not treated with pesticides. I mean seriously, it grew in the ground.

- Foodies. Aka, people that looooove food. (read: faaaaaat)

- A f**king farmers market at 6 pm on a Thursday evening right up the street near my apartment? Seriously? WHO DOES THAT?

- Cupcakes. Huge in Seattle. And expensive in Seattle.

Booze

- Drinking an IPA tastes like I juiced 20 pounds of hops and chugged it under 3 seconds. Seriously guys, remember the days when beer wasn't supposed to be bitter? Your "microbrew" tastes like the brewer took a majorduke in it.

- Bars. Expensive. $20 drinks? Yeah, they exist. And no, they don't come with a set of car keys or a pretty girl.

- Not found in strip clubs. And no, I don't want a gross lap dance or a $5 coke.

- Wine bars, much worse. Appetizers (again, made of literally the unpronouncible) that are about $100, and a glass of wine that costs three times as much as the bottle? How about no?

- The people of Seattle have decided in their finite wisdom that liquor laws need to keep booze in the hands of the state, and not the grocery store. Parents...if you're kids are going to get booze, they're not going to swipe it from the store, they're going to get a buyer.

Pet Owners (i.e. just the dog owners)

- I don't have a dog. And if I did have a dog, I wouldn't do what 99% of Seattle dog owners would do, and f**k my dog in the a$$ every chance I got.

- "Wag More"? What the f**k does that bumper sticker mean? Oh yeah, I don't f**k my dog.

- Bars are for people. Stores are for people. Restaurants are for people. NOT DOGS. And no, if that is your "service dog", show me it's f**king papers.

- Yes, I said "it". Your dog is not equal to a human.

Sports

- The University of Washington Huskies. Yes, I will relent, they are a good football team. Will I call them a "Dawg"? No. Will I ever place any interest into any college sports? F**k no.

- I was glad to see the Sonics go. In fact, I wish I could have been the proverbial doorman to hold the proverbial door from hitting their actual asses on the way out.

- I hate the Mariners. They are terrible at baseball.

- I hate the Thunderbirds. Did you know Seattle had a pro-hockey team? Yeah, neither did I until I googled "Seattle professional hockey team".

- I hate the Sounders. They are terrible at soccer.

- And no, nobody likes soccer. And I get that the rest of the world likes soccer, but it's because the majority of it is poor, and can only afford a patch of grass and a soccer ball.

People

- I'm a pretty liberal person here, but sweet crap, some people here make me look like Ghengis Khan. (And no, I'm obviously not for "medicinal marijuana")

- If I smell patchouli one more time, I swear to Moses I will black out and wake up surrounded by dead hippies.

- Gay pride parade. Let me caveat by saying, all people have the right to live the way they want to. That being said, gay and lesbian community, you'll probably get your equal rights and respects a bit sooner when you're not prancing down the street dressed wearing ass-less chaps and looking like a scene from Caligula.

- There's a legion of cyclists here. But no, not the Lance Armstrongs that train to compete nationally and internationally. They're typically unshaven, kinda fat, ignore traffic laws including helmets, and apparently are just DYING for an excuse to shave their legs like some weirdo freak.

- People cannot drive in Seattle. Apparently in city limits, turning on your hazards means you can park anywhere. Turn signals and speed limits? Totally optional.

- I will never be able to blend a guy who has crack-induced-Parkinson's into the background. I find it repulsive and viscerally disturbing everytime.

- I don't give bums money, because the idea is that they will go away after a while.

Starbucks

- Your coffee is over roasted, over priced pee water.

- If your brand is working so well, why do you have to own Seattle's Best all sneaky like?

There's more. Hell, I learn something new I hate about this city everyday....but this blog is already too long.