Lazy Thursday Blues: Take 11

• Personal Map What percent of the US have you seen? There is a world one too.


• Keep your Dew Cold At all night LAN parties. Not that it sits open long enough to warm up...


• Uh... Okay, that's odd.


• Settlers of Catan Quiz Any junkies care to test thier knowledge? I'm a dunce apparently.


• Oregon Trail Original Oregon Trail Game! I had to play in IE, not sure about MAC's

Smelly Soap

There is a bottle of smelly soap in the men’s room. I’m not sure what it’s doing there, besides suffering. Most men I know will avoid the bottle of smelly soap like the plague if they have the option.

Obviously in the case of smelly soap or no soap, smelly soap always wins. That isn’t the case here. There are metal soap receptacles anchored to all the sinks, filled with the scentless soap that comes in 5 gallon drums from the janitorial supply store. This is man soap. The only better man soap is the sandy powder that you have to rub with water and pray that it will suds up before you remove all the skin from your palms. It builds character!

This sums up the men’s restroom experience to a tee. We like doing it the hard way; we want scratched mirrors, and too few paper towels. We have no need for full length mirrors, pretty flower arrangements on the sinks, or couches in the restroom. The term “restroom” means a rest from talking, thinking, or making eye contact. When we leave the restroom we have to “work” at being civil, courteous and polite.

So someone brought it in their smelly soap and left it on the sink. It screams in its bold bookman font:

“2 soaps in 1! I moisturize and nurture your skin! With a fresh lavender scent!”

Obviously the man either forgot it or was caught. Just as he was about to pocket it, someone walked in on him. He had to abandon the smelly soap to preserve his dirty secret. Much like the mini-van in the parking lot slowing draining it’s battery down to power headlights no one is using. The announcement has been made over the load speaker but no one is going to fess up. “I drive the mini-van" This is equal to saying "I use smelly soap.” This admission would be too much for him to take.

So sits the soap in the men’s restroom, subjected to sneers and ridicule only because it smells nice and has the nerve to moisturize.

Year Of The Lie

You’ve heard of the year of the Dragon, Monkey or Goat. You’ve seen the “Year of the Comet”, or heard new casters refer to the ‘Year of the iPod’. But this might be your first exposure to what I’ve decided to call “The Year of the Lie”. To put it simply, twenty nine.

Today is my twenty-ninth birthday. I have zero trouble with this. I have a little trouble with this. I have more trouble with this than I thought I would. I have always told anyone who would listen that getting older doesn’t bother me. I’m doing everything in my life that I suppose to do. I don’t feel like I’m missing out or need more time in my twenties to accomplish anything. I have a loving wife two beautiful daughters, supportive family, and great friends. I’m happy. There is just something sinister about 29 that I can’t get over. I’ve been saying it all morning… "I’m twenty nine; I’m in the year of the lie."

Let me explain. No one believes you when you say you’re twenty nine.

“Age?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“If you want to give blood we’ll need your real age.”
“Twenty-nine.”
“Sigh…what year where you born?”
“1977…I’m twenty-nine…really.”
“Who was the president when you were born?”
“Carter!”
“Fine," she sighs deeply "I’ll just mark 30.”

What’s a body to do? I would rather just go straight to thirty and skip this whole twenty-nine business. I suppose I could start a new trend and stay at thirty for two years. That would certainly be a new one on the world.

Or I could just take a deep breath, relax and enjoy the year of the lie. I can do that.

The Dough Man

The dough man is coming, the dough man is coming!
Lock up your flour, sugar and Pam!
He’s not going to leave without dough in his hand!

The dough man is coming, the dough man is coming!
He once was sane, happy and kind
But large piles of dough have altered his mind

The dough man is coming, the dough man is coming!
He’ll laugh at your cookies and put salt in your coke
He’ll hoot at misfortune but will scoff at your joke

The dough man is coming, the dough man is coming!
Nothing will stop him or slow down his shames
Except eighteen hours of video games

The dough man is coming, the dough man is coming!
Lock up your flour, sugar and Pam!
He’s not going to leave without dough in his hands!


-Peter Brown 2006


I'm sure to catch some heat from posting this picture

Ode To A Porkchop

Pork is good for eating
I dismiss what E.B. White thinks
If pigs were meant for petting
They wouldn't make good hot links

Pork is not other white meat
Even if pork raisers say so
Other white meat is reptile
It makes bad bacon, don't you know

Yes it's true pigs are quite large
And they eat food green with mold
They're like a magic farm machine
Turning garbage into porcine gold

There are only two bad pig parts
You can keep the hooves and head
I'll skip head cheese and pigs feet
But take the rest, once they're shed

This ode is to a pork chop
Cause pigs were made for munchin'
It's not a food for nibbling
But for breakfast or for lunchin'


-Peter Brown 2006

Hitch Me Up

I was stuck in traffic, the scenery was not grabbing my attention, and the radio refused to play anything but “purple rain”. I was about to give up my quest for some distraction when a lady caught my eye. She had flowing red hair, her make-up job was immaculate and she couldn’t stop smiling at me. Oddly enough, she was only a head stuck to the ball of the trailer hitch that was attached to the truck I was following.

This might seem odd but I’m been seeing lots of unusual trailer hitch’s. I’m not a truck person. I drive a truck, but it’s a very small truck and would never put me in the "truck driving" class. In fact I just found out that the term for this automotive ornament is a hitch cap. The dolls head was odd I have to say. I had trouble not trying to figure out the story behind that one.

“Mommy, Mommy!!”
“What is it dear?”
“Suzy’s dead!”
“I know dear” her mother sighed, “Your father promised to bring her home tonight.”

Who can guess, what the story was, but I bet it involved a lot of booze and too much free time. I’ve recently seen some other hitch caps, but none surpassed the sheer bizarre nature of the plastic doll’s head. For your enjoyment here are some others I've seen, and a couple I found online.

Recently seen on the highway

• Can opener hitch cap. This is both useful and funny!


• Propeller hitch cap. It spins… and that’s all!


• Dog Picture hitch cap. Printed picture of your best friend!


• LED Skull hitch cap. Creep out those tailgaters!


• Key safe hitch cap. This is cool! A combo lock key safe hitch. I’m always locking myself out of my car.

Seen any other hitch caps on your roads?

For Your Listening Pleasure

I was driving to work obsessed with a song on my stereo. I completely forgot to eat my breakfast on the way. People are staring on corners as I’m performing an unrehearsed duo with “Maroon 5”.

It’s hard for me to remain placid when I hear music I really like. I’m not like the iPod listener walking calmly down the street. I would be at the very least rocking to the downbeats, but more likely singing with the music. This is one of the reasons I’m hesitant to purchase an MP3 player. Of course it might provide a number of good Saturday posts.

I worked at a music store for a year and it was easily the best job I ever had. Zero stress, music all day long, and pretty light workload. My job was to make people happy. I cannot recall too many people coming into the music store unhappy, save the rap buyers. Why anyone who would pay fifteen ninety nine for music you know will put you in a bad mood is beyond me. Anyway, for the most part people came in to get something they wanted. My favorite customers would be looking for a song they heard on the raido, and only knew a word or two. We would call the stations or flip through the charts. The desperate ones would sing parts of the songs to us, and we would do our best to decode. This one customer just threw her head back and belted out “son of a preacher man” one day. “Dusty Springfield,” I said “rock and pop isle.” Her friend apologized for her.

In Blockbuster Music you could listen to any CD in the store. We would unwrap it play it, and seal it back up. I now have this nearly useless ability to open a CD without breaking the seal. So people would sit at the bar and listen. Invariably someone would start singing. Some were okay, most were horrific. This was the year the Bee Gee's made a comeback. You never heard so much screeching and squealing in your life. After a few laughs we would have to intervene and tap them out of it. They always seemed surprised, like "why would you want to stop this star worthy performance?" With customers and employees laughing and snickering at them they would finally get it, and either buy or bolt. This is how I always picture myself whenever I start to sing with headphones on…it helps me to stop.

So here I am in my office, the introverted network guy, trying not to sing to the music streaming into my head. I’m drumming on my metal desk, tapping my feet and occasionally humming or whistling. Its like this is the witch doctors office and I’m performing some odd voodoo ritual.

Oh well, maybe they will be more apprehensive to approach my office when there’s a problem.

Lazy Thursday : Yeti Day

It seems everyone liked the Yeti Sports games, here's the whole lot.. enjoy

Yeti Sports 1 Pingu Throw
Yeti Sports 2 Orca Slap
Yeti Sports 3 Seal Bounce
Yeti Sports 4 Albatros Overload
Yeti Sports 5 Flamingo Drive
Yeti Sports 6 Big Wave
Yeti Sports 7 Snowboard Freeride


Still here... More Yeti Day Fun


Yeti/Bigfoot Dance Very odd...

When Yeti Attack! I'm not sure what he said but it seems scary!

Collectables

Tuesday found me chatting with a few of my co-workers. We started off on some pretty normal topics, but then something changed. Somehow we got talking about collections.

I was going off about empty beer can collections and other such things I don’t understand, when a co-worker laid this on me. Barbed wire collectors. I went hunting… its real. It seems these guys hunt for barbed wire. Cut it into two foot lenghts, mount it on a board and label it. I'm not sure if they name them but I wouldn't be surprised! What do they get out if it? No one knows. Its a lot of work for a small return. I can't imagine there are a lot of people beating down their doors for the collection. Not that they would give up this prize to anyone. I suppose they're just trying to preserve a bit of history...still a little odd.

I’m not an avid collector of anything special. I collect movies but I watch them. I think that precludes me from this niche of “collector”. I guess there are some collections I can understand. Money. There it is, I’m a money collector. I’m always looking for that new addition! As far as other collections? Any collection I can sell to grow my money collection. Other than that, I have neither the time, desire or space for things I don’t need.

Things I’ve noticed about collections and/or collectors

• They don’t have to make sense


• You need a lot of them


• They should have a story, but that story can be, “I don’t remember where I got this.”


• If you want to make money your not a collector


• If you use an item you void it from your collection


• The house can fall apart as long as the collection lives on


• No one can appreciate you in your time

Heard of any odd collections?

PostScript - For those clever few who think about it, the answer is no. I don't think of my box O' cables as a collection. It's a security blanket, and they are all well used.

Of Pickles And Corndogs

It’s a bastion of food, media, beverages and electronics. I feel safe within its walls. I stand awe struck, with a thousand of my closest friends, in a sea of frozen corndogs, and reams of paper. I just came in for some paper towels and I’m leaving with an empty pocketbook, and I have a lifetime supply of pickles. How it is that Costco can continue to stock items on the shelf that I need so badly is beyond me.

There is something about Costco that is outside of the realm of reality. I remember the first time entered one, it felt like another planet. How can we have suffering in the world if I can buy a case of chicken noodle soup for $7.99? Have you ever noticed how many items in the warehouse are $7.99? It seems whenever there is a dispute $7.99 always wins.

I love shopping at Costco, not just because we get huge containers of rations but also for the unexpected. The center of our store is like a bazaar. Every week they change out the contents, sometimes furniture, sometime caskets, clothes, or trampolines. You just never know what you’re going to get. I want to walk in with my hands over my eyes and yell surprise when we reach the middle. Patricia frowns on this practice.

The funny thing about saving money at Costco is storage. Let me explain. In order to save big, you need to buy in bulk, in order to buy in bulk you need a place to keep it. I have heard of people buying freezers so when they shop at Costco they have a place to put their 12lbs of burritos. We have a “store house” in the garage. It’s a metal shelf that serves as a pantry for the overflow. When we need a second jar of pickles, we grab a cart from the front lawn and wheel it into the garage and pick up the provisions for the next few days.

I love shopping at Costco.

I hate checkout at Costco. Checking out of a Costco is like waiting for a group of ladies to return from the restroom. Time stands still. I’m a social geek, which means I’m uncomfortable, but will talk anyway. I talk to people about the box of wine in their cart, I'll talk about the clerks or about my desire to buy popcorn by the case. Most people like talking in line. It's more fun than sighing and scouting for a shorter line. If there’s no one to talk to, I’ll talk to myself. This will do in a pinch. Either way be prepared for a wait, it's never going to be fast.

It seems that Costco cannot save you money and give you shopping bags; the two appear to be mutually exclusive. So you get used boxes in which to store your priceless finds. I suppose having to lug my pickles home in a box delivered there holding radish leaf soup is a small price to pay for the joys of Costco.

Just 3 hours of your day and a few hundred dollars. Costco, what more could you want?