The Subtle Roar Of Paint Drying

Well...I can see I'm not the only one who isn't getting shit done today.

(And seriously, could they look any more f-ing surly - Staying professional doesn't mean look like you're trying to pinch a loaf)

A Can of Whoopass But No Can Opener

There have been days since the Army where I honestly missed the opportunity to go fight crime or the potential to go to war. Moving from a job where you're entire role in an organization is to "close with and destroy the enemy", to a job where your entire role is to "kiss the customers ass while they fart on your face" (ahem. Kmart) is just very dizzying.
I firmly believe that many people in the Army thrive on conflict....usually moreso when they win. I can remember situations during law enforcement where I'd get into a scuffle with a few subjects and my fellow MP's were there to help me. When it was all said and done, even if a few were bruised and/or bleeding, everyone was amped and wanted more. Or even in Iraq when I can recall Humvee's loaded with MP's hooting and hollering as they drove out the gate on the way to an ongoing fire fight.
Hmm. Looking back, either we're gluttons for pain, or we're flat out crazy.

It Makes Every Day Bitter

fig 1.1 - What 2+2 looks like when doing accounting while
hungover.

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Armed

The next listed hero is the atypical "Chicks with Guns".

Every (straight) man is ingrained with certain ideals from birth. One of those greater ideals of attraction states that a woman doing anything that is usually classified as "macho" is automatically sexy. Guns are the absolute caviar of manly stuff, followed notably by "chicks with swords", "chicks with bombs", and "chicks working on cars".

Heroines such as Aeon Flux, Laura Croft, and yes, even the main character from Ultraviolet reinforce the fact that women that appear as though they would rather be attending a party, but just so happened into the need to tear down entire cities with hand cannons was acceptable as well. It movies and instances like this that I appreciate the fact that men are visual learners.

On a different axiom, I've had the ability to actually see women in combat during my time in the Army. Despite the fact that I did have some pretty aggressive male soldiers, the most aggressive soldiers I've had were female. They carried the bigger guns (by choice), they usually were the first ones to kick down doors during law enforcement, and they never failed to qualify on a weapons range. Now obviously I'm talking in broad terms, as no gender is 100% perfect. But this definitely tore down the line for me in terms of how men and women fight.

All this aside, nobody minds the sight of a Chick with a Gun, just as long as they aren't pointing at you. And if you're not convinced, tell me you've never heard of Annie Oakley.

Chicks With Guns - Wicked Fine Destruction Heroines

The Day Your Crap Owns You

Over the weekend, I've had the pleasure of moving, again. I thank my stars that I've been in the Army and always maintain in the back of my head to get ready to move, or as termed by the military as "jump TOC" (which refers to moving the tactical operations center at a moments notice due to mission requirements or enemy considerations. The tactical operations center is the hub of all unit activity for a military unit during tactical operations)

Ninety percent of my stuff is big, which means it takes up a lot of space, but doesn't take long to move....except for the unholy green couch. I bought this couch when I was assigned to Fort LeonardWood, Missouri. The couch is alittle over 8 feet long, and fortunately does not have a hide-a-bed. When I moved into the apartment I live in now, it took me and a friend almost 2 hours of going up one stairwell, then back down and up another to get it into the apartment. No problem moving out however, I remember what we did to get it out. Unfortunately, my new place has even narrower stairwells. Had the couch been so much as 2 inches longer, I'm positive it would still be jammed in one of the corridors. Thankfully I had help, and more importantly, a truck. You can't move alot of furniture in a freakin' Prius.

So after a long day of moving, the hot tub at my soon to be old apartment building was in order. I'd never used it before, so I figure I'd abuse it this time around. When I found it, and was getting ready to turn on the jets, I noticed a giant shiny button to the left of the jet control. It has a powerpoint written label above this enormous red button (that looked like a missile launch button) that said "Emergency Spa Shut-Off".

Can anyone please tell me what emergency in a hot tub would require someone to leap from the hot tub and turn off the things that make alot of bubbles?

Yeah...neither can I.

Invention - The Better Bathroom Stall

A rule in life that we can all accept, is the fact that no one likes using public bathrooms. Most people are terrified of the hygene of these facilities, I'm of the group that just prefers not to spend "me-time*" in a location where people can see and/or hear me.
One of the uncanny issues I'm burdened with today is the fact that I can't use a urinal with anyone else in the room. I blame the Army's urinalysis program for this one completely. Drug testing done in the Army is different then the posh civilian drug tests. You still have to whizz in a cup, but the Army way is, some one is required to watch you whizz in a cup. And I mean full on glare (they have to see the liquid leave you and enter the cup). There is a one day "certification" course these lucky soldiers must attend, to which, they are then properly nicknamed "gazers" (short for "sausage gazers"). Suffice to say, it's haunted me to this day, so I'm a big fan of the stall.
The stall is one of the few rooms on Earth that is completely unsecure by any physical security means, however, everyone (talking guys now, not girls) honors the sanctity by avoiding talking, knocking, or the dreaded door tug at all costs. However, stalls are usually lacking several elements that would make them more hospitable, and would promote less High Schoolers having to drive all the way home just to take a dook.

#1 - Physical Structure - At best, only the stall doors almost touch the ground. Although not a concern for most guys, some are worried about the dreaded "top-down surveillance", where someone looks over the wall of the stall. Or even worse, the guy in the stall next to you drops his cell phone and it rolls into your stall. Awkward! I understand stalls are built to balance financial cost with privacy, but all that aside, improvements can be made. First of all, the walls should go all the way up to the ceiling, or the stall should have a ceiling. This would prevent look overs. Next, the doors should have hinges that can withstand a magnitude 8 earthquake. For some reason, those are always the first parts of the stall to fail. Usually requiring using a different stall, or holding the door up in mid-dook. The locking mechanism should not be a simple twist latch that can be easily undone by anyone with a flat object on the other side. It should be something that resembles either a deadbolt, or a large bar that was used to bar castle gates.

#2 - Internal Plumbing - Most public bathrooms have decent toilets. The kind that really can't fail or break. What they are usually lacking is enough flush power to powerout ungodly amounts of matter. I would recommend building on the design of the automatic sensor that flushes the toilet regardless of whether the occupant wants it or not. And the flush power should be strong enough to power through a toilet bowl full of pudding in 3 seconds. Additionally, a small, toilet-internal vent/fan system should be added inside the bowl to avoid the untimely "courtesy flush".

#3 - Toilet Paper Supplies - This is an area I see getting better all the time. Usually the fear was always not enough toilet paper. This problem is being solved either by 1) an ENORMOUS roll of toilet paper (usually 1/2 ply...so it equals to about a roll of regular) or 2) numerous rolls of toilet paper. The only consideration I would submit is make the paper dispenser impervious to college kids.

#4 - Vandalism Resistant - Asides from physical strength, the insides should be whitewashed every so often to remove any grafitti. Either this, or color ingrained glass should make up the walls of the stall. This way, it removes any chance of vandals carving anything on the inside that can't be removed.

#5 - Amenities - The standard stall could use a few upgrades. First, a floor drain in every stall. This would in sure any overflows don't incroach on others during inopportune times. Secondly, a small light next to the outer door handle to let others know the stall is in use. This again would prevent the dreaded "door tug".

I was partially inspired by the "automatic toilets" that Seattle has. They look like cyclindrical sheds with Star Trek like doors. Once you enter, the doors shut and automatically lock for 25 minutes, or until you push a button. A beacon on the outside tells people it's occupied. Everything in the toilet is made of steel. Supposedly after so many uses, the doors shut by themselves when unoccupied and a high pressure sprinkler system on the inside goes off and hoses everything down.
These are great things to have in Seattle. Unfortunately, they're planted in just the right areas where homeless/crackheads use them to sleep and/or shoot up.

Awesome.

*And by me-time, I mean going to the bathroom you perves.

Humble Pie? How About F-You Cake?

For years now, including my time in the Army, I for some reason have always gotten flak about what I eat. Despite the fact that I consider myself fairly knowledgable in the areas of nutrition, I am treated by some people like I don't know how to wipe my own chin. For those of you who are unaware, my diet since I've left college usually consists of the following:

Breakfast - Whatever. Usually a handful of dry cereal, and/or pop-tart, and a diet soda.

Lunch - (In the Army, a cup of coffee) Usually Chef Boyardee Ravioli or Spaghetti-o's straight out of the can (yes, cold) with a dash of hot sauce, and if I'm lucky, and handful of Fritos. And a diet soda, or coffee.

Dinner - Bounces between two different menu items, unless I'm eating out.

Option 1 - Two packets of ramen mixed with two diced hot dogs, handful of fritos, and half a can of green beans. Diet coke.

Option 2 - Two El Monteray burritos, hot sauce, fritos, sour cream, and salsa. Diet coke.

Dessert? - Back in the Army I was eating a full two-layered cake a week. Seeing as how my exercise and stress levels have decreased since then, I don't do that much any more.

So how do I stay so healthy you ask? I'm not entirely sure. I still work out 3-5 time a week, and although I do take vitamin suppliments occasionally. However, comparing my caloric input v. output, the math just isn't right.

Okay, so all of this aside, I eat like a bird who has an apparent craving for starches, frtios and diet soda. But what it all boils down to is that you can mock me all you want about my "unhealthy choices", but I can still outrun, outpush, and out situp your ass anyday. So save that "eat a salad" crap for someone who's fat!

Take A Walk Down Grumpiness Lane

Most often you hear people say they need to go for a walk and "take inventory of what is good in their life". F-that. As I am a firm believer in the fact that life is good with the absence of pain, rather then the presence of good. Allow me to provide you the inventory of what pissed me off in the last 24 hours:

- Going to the store to buy one item, and I get behind a shopper who picked the farthest flung merchandise that didn't have a barcode

- The fact that only recently has the news started bringing up the idea of breeding licenses and/or parental training

- Being panhandled pretty much where ever I go in Seattle

- I STILL live next to a major road, and STILL have to listen to the sound of exhaust over-equipped vehicles burning up and down said road at 3 a.m.

- Toilet paper that doesn't rip evenly

- That I have a pretty low to nominal workload until about 3 p.m., then everything needs to be done immediately.

*Hm...only five I count off the top of my head, I know there must be more..

Things Occasionally Get Sticky

If you're ever bored and enjoy gaming, I would recommend checking out the simplest game there is on the Internet in terms of burning time and just letting go. KOL (Kingdom Of Loathing) was pointed out to me about alittle over a year back. I've beaten it several times while it was developing in its infancy, and now it's become alot bigger upon my return. They actually have a convention. Wow.

"Prepare To Meet Your Maker's Mark..."

So over the weekend of nuptial chaos, after attending a Greek wedding, I have discovered Jagermeister's evil twin brother. (By the way, GO to a Greek Wedding...they are off the hook!)

Ouzo has a similar taste to Jager only in the fact that it's not as harsh, and tastes alot more smooth. Despite the fact that I was about 2 sheets to the wind when I was coaxed (okay, I volunteered) to take two shots of the liquid, I could tell that this is definately not something you drink alot of. It had the evil, candy like appeal that many trouble causing liquors have, and it probably also didn't help that the bartender poured what looked to be a double shot of it. But what the hell, it was a party.

Suffice to say the next morning, waking up in the usual pattern of scattered clothing and a brief disbelief of where my car might be (don't worry..it was where it should have been), I still acknowledge that Ouzo still has the same hangover producing effects like most alcohols, only I was drunk until about 3 pm that day.

Nothing but water and vegetables for me today!

The Most UnHoliest Day For Everyone Else

So now that 07/07/2007 has passed, and with it, the majority of the "nuptual bliss" that goes with it, I'd like to take this moment to vent my ever growing distain for weddings. Please caveat that if any of my friends should find this blog, or already subscribe to it, I'll still go to your wedding. But having been to a few messed up ones, please take notes.

*steps onto soapbox* ahem

Bearing in mind that the current divorce rate in the United States is approximately .74% of the entire population per year, weddings are becoming as meaningful as perhaps a birthday, only with a bigger pricetag. This is the one day that a couple has pretty much the right to hold you hostage for essentially the entire day, forcing you to rent a tux, and forcing you to pay homage to them in a party THEY are throwing.

All of this aside, I have witnessed and read/seen COUNTLESS accounts of couples going neck deep into debt just so they can have some crazy ass high scale wedding. Followed by living in some subsidized housing, because apparently having chicken cordon bleu at your wedding is better then having a house you actually own.

And lets talk about the night after the wedding, aka the "special night", aka the "we just spend $30 grand today so we might as well cap it off with a smile". I only rant of this because I find it ironic that couples that have been together for years somehow figure that the night after they sign the papers, sex will somehow magically become special. Right.

But rather then me rant continually on about what is flowing through my brain, I'd prefer to break it down to an easy-to-digest version everyone can enjoy.

First, what I see from every wedding I've witnessed from start to end:

- The wedding is originally designed to be a "small function", and by the end it has snowballed into a function you expect to see Cinderalla roll up on

- AT LEAST one of the sets of parents butts in and pisses off the bride with their suggestions

- No matter how much planning goes on, somethings always goes wrong

- For some reason, 99.9% of weddings think include a 2 year old is cute, until the 2 year old abandons their duty (ring bearer/flower girl) and runs off to their parents sobbing uncontrollably

- For some reason, people bring babies to weddings, to which the babies cry, and the ceremony sucks

- At weddings where disposable cameras are left on the tables to have pictures, taken, usually about 2 shots per camera get used up

*This may not be true for a wedding you have had, I'm just saying statistically speaking, it happens more often then not.

Now, let's talk about the sanity check items. The following are things that could be considered "aggressive suggestions", but is honestly just full bore anger pouring from my soul:

- To the brides, this is not "your day", the wedding will not "be perfect", and the day after your wedding, everyone will forget the ceremony except you (yes, even your husband).

- To the grooms, you have zero ability to gripe if you do the "I just want to know where to be and when". That approach is what generates "bridezilla". Be a man and help!

- To the couples that throw weddings that last 14 hours, you're not special! Stop it! If you're planning to do that, there better be some damn nap time in that schedule.

- To the couples that involve small children, animals, or themes (i.e. Star Wars), what is wrong with you?

- To the parents, you already HAD your chance to get married. Unless they ask, leave your kids weddings ALONE! Yes, we got it, you're paying for it...consider it the last payment on your kid.

- To the bridal party that pisses and moans about the color of their dresses, for the love of ginger, it's only one day (hopefully).

- To the professional photographers who charge $1500 for 3 hours of work, how the f$%k do you sleep at night?

- To the professional DJ's that play an unusually large playlist of 80's music, and charge $100 an hour to do so, how the f$%k do you sleep at night?

- To the caterers who charge $30 a head for a crappy BBQ, how the...well, you get the point, you blood sucking bastards.

- To the parents that get offended when they get invited to a "no-children under 12" ceremony just because they have kids under 12, STAY HOME!

Having this rant nearly complete, allow me answer what you might already be thinking, "well tell me oh blogger, what is the perfect wedding". I call them Desk Sergeant weddings
In the Army while I was running an MP station, I had a Sergeant that ran the police desk for me. The shift was usually 12 hours long (from 7 am until 7 pm), and obviously made errands difficult. This coupled with the fact that alot of soldiers were mostly married and then divorced removed a heavy emphasis of "princess weddings".
One particular Desk Sergeant of mine pulled me aside one morning while I was doing my daily inspection of the desk and asked if I could watch the desk during her lunch break. Certainly I would but then inquired why. She stated and I quote "I have to run to City Hall and get married". Confused, I asked when the ceremony was going to happen. No ceremony. Her and the groom met at the courthouse, grabbed the nearest person off the street, signed the papers, and she came right back to work. Gone a grand total of 45 minutes, with a cost, I believe of about $35 in filing fees. No fuss, no mess. Bam - married. So when she arrived I heaved a fist full of hole punch leftovers at her (like confetti) and told her congrats, and all is well.

So in closing, kudos to City Hall, kudos to mail order brides, kudos to Vegas and the "Chapel 'o' love", and kudos to the unsuspecting stranger that gets ask "hey buddy, wanna be a witness to a marriage?"

And to everyone that wants their wedding day "to be my day and just be perfect" - SOD OFF.

*steps down from soap box* Thank you.

"A Moment of Laxity Spawns A Lifetime Of Heresy"

Today has been an usually slow day at work. Usually when I'm working I'm inspired on what to do the mid afternoon blog about . Unfortunately nothing came to mind today. So instead, please make a sandwich, grab a tall lemonade, and enjoy this picture of what a vinyard would look like, if I owned a vinyard.

"The Boom Animae Babes That Make Me Think The Wrong Things..."

Great. Now I have to watch Peanuts all over again.

Last Man Standing (And Not Vomiting)

The bachelor party turned out to be a raging success. Despite a split heater hose on our party bus (which turned out we got a lesser bus for a huge discount), we still managed to hit all the highlights for Broggin's bachelor party: booze, bars, shots, strip joints, casinos, "Edward 40 Hands", and the soon-to-be-groom introducing himself to the contents of his small intestine in the bathroom. We also went an saw Bogey, that man doesn't play! Rock!

This led me to the inevitable epiphany that if/when I get married, I can't have a bachelor party of this caliber. This is for the following reasons:

1) My Oldest Brother - Although not a vindictive man, his bachelor party culminated in zooking up about a gallon of various alcohols (i.e. Irish Car bombs and shots of 151) all over a stripper stage, hanging off of a chain link fence for an hour while we waited for a ride, and required 2 hours of me explaining why his bed is more comfortable then being curled around the base of the toilet. It was half my fault, half my middle brother's fault in that we were responsible for aboutg 70% of those drinks. My middle brother did the smart thing and went to a crappy little bar during his "bachelor party" (all brothers & the soon-to-be-bride) and ordered REALLY watered down drinks. So now, my oldest brother only has me to bring justice for such the horrific pain that we had wrought on him. He will have his return-on-investment.

2) My Liver - Despite the fact that I'm reasonably fit, take multivitamins, and don't smoke, I've put considerable wear on my liver over the past few years. I'm at the point now where if I reach a certain critical mass, I just completely black out. I've found that in my few black out periods, it takes alot longer for me to pass out then it used to. Had I been in Broggin's place last Friday night, I'm pretty sure I would STILL be blacked out.

3) My Sense of Entertainment - Seeing as how I can't get any hell from guys here on the blog, I'll say it. I'm not a big fan of strippers, really, at all. The idea that all they do is grind on dudes all night and completely take their clothes off and on just confuses me. Why would I pay to get sexually aroused? Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against watching pretty girls dance, what guy wouldn't? But I'm not a big fan of the constant feigning of interest in who I am, what I do, blah blah blah.

**So having said that, my goal for my if/when bachelor party is purely bowling and beer. Unless of course my friends arn't that athletically inclined, then I'd rather just play alot of online computers games and drink beer.

Is Debauchery Spelled With One Bottle Or Two?

Well, tonight's the burden of the Best Man (me). I'm doing the bachelor party for "Broggin" (friend that lives in Washington). Lots o' fun on the slate to include a party bus and a Seattle wide tour with the intent to declare war on and drain every last bottle of booze in the city.
Thank everything that is good that I'm in charge of keeping the pain train running, so that means my drinks will be few and far inbetween.

"And That's Where The Suits Have Their Picnic..."

Had our organizational picnic yesterday, which turned out to be a rather pleasant experience. Ordinarily, I'm not one that likes to be associated with the "yay team" crowd, but unfortunately being HR, I am required to not only be a part, but almost lead the charge.
Yesterday consisted of an almost inordinate amount of BBQ everything, tons of salad, and tons of cake. Suffice to say, it's now in our breakroom where it'll most likely remain for another 5-6 days.
The only reason I know the sun + food was good is because I went home and immediately took a 2 hour nap. Go me!

YouTube - Now More Than Ever

So out of sheer boredom, I recently starting looking up information on medical issues & procedures. The upside of being a hypochondriac is that I have a boon of knowledge when it comes to crazy illnesses.

In the process of this searching, I can across the appropriate way to excise and remove a sebacous cyst. Furthering this insanity, I searched YouTube using the words "cyst" and "zit". You would NOT believe the amount of videos available that shows people popping their own acne, cysts, or abscesses. Further more, there are some grainy videos of cysts the size of softballs being drained, and when I mean drained, I mean gushing forth matter that could be measured in gpm's (gallons per minute).

(I decided in good taste not to post these videos, but instead my reaction to watching them as I happened to stumble on the worst ones during lunch)

"Why Oh Why Didn't I Take The Blue Pill"

Having gone to my 10 year reunion for my High School, I was honestly shocked. I think television fills our heads with what to expect at these type of things, and apparently very few of those misconceptions hold true.
The biggest misconception is that people are waaay different. This is very not true. The majority of the people from my class looked exactly the same, but obviously older and usually some addition (i.e. spouse, kids, etc).
A select few of them got rotund. And by rotund, I mean enormous. No one really just put on "a few pounds", the ones that gained weight look like they are buried every morning in 1 ton of coldcuts and have to eat their way out to go to work. Fortunately, they were nobody I really liked so that's cool.
Another select few that were tools in High School are still tools. Ironically, they went to go on to real estate (weird). Apparently their dreams of big pimping & sports left them out long ago.
Fortunately, I only saw on classmate there I had a huge crush on during High School, and despite common sense, it was still weird. I didn't talk to her at all.

So was it worth going? Kinda. Only truly for the fact that I never thought I'd be getting drunk while talking to both my French teacher AND my Government teacher.

How The Hell Did I End Up Back Here?

Ladies & Gents - I will not be posting tomorrow due to the fact that I am returning to my hometown from wence I came to attend my 10 year High School reunion. My intent is very simple. I have planned the following:

1) To Mock:

a) All the jocks that thought they would be sports announcers and are now digging ditches

b) All the other idiots who have gotten fatter and have nothing to show for 10 years

c) All the women who have a bazillion children and for some reason think that is an accomplishment

2) To Embrace:

a) My old crew and the fact that they probably still play D&D

b) Any ex-crushes that realized that the guys they chose (most likely from High School) are now fat and slovenly, and I am not, yeah!

3) To Spurn:

a) Any ex-bullies that has taken 10 years to realize that slamming me face first into a locker really was a dickish thing to do (as in "Fuck no you're not forgiven.")

b) The teachers that truly sucked (which, honestly, I don't remember any)

4) To Prove:

a) That the lower your GPA in High School, the worse of a human you will be in life

b) Graduates from the U of I can actually make something of themselves

***A full report upon my return!***

Cry Dammit, And Let Loose The Pounds of Asprin

Figure 1.1 - The sign that usually indicates an all day work
day dealing the facets of employment insurance renewal.