Kludge Spot: September 2011

Bad Lip Reading Clip

I love this. It's NOT political. Just for giggles...

The Giveaway is complete. Thanks to everyone for playing!

Last night sucked, and I didn't get to drawing names. This morning I added all the names (two entries for those liking Kludge Spot on FB) to my office coffee mug.

Clearly the winner was KAS Congrats! I'll be sending you out this mesquite pen. Simply shoot me an email (link on bottom right of the main blog page) and I'll get your shipping address.

Thanks to everyone for playing! And don't worry, I'll do another one of these in October or so. It enjoy them!

Sandy Wednesday Giveaway

It's time for another pen Giveaway! Click here for past giveaway results.

Here is the item in question. A mesquite hardwood pen. This is a cross style pen finished with a mirror shine.

Now for the game...

I drew this picture in the sand a few days back while at the beach. My youngest daughter laughed openly at my artistry and assured me it looked nothing like what I had planned. All you have to do, is post a comment below of what you see. Or if that's too much pressure, just tell me what your last meal consisted of. Whatever (Even wives of employees can enter...)

Like Kludge Spot on Facebook and you get a second entry in the drawing. (With a qualifying comment below)

The Game Rules:

1. No vulgarity. I reserve the right to delete any comment. This will remove you from the contest.

2. Wining. I will randomly draw the wining name from a hat on Sunday September 25th of all caption entries. The winner will be contacted Sunday evening via email, and announced Monday September 26th.

3. United States for free shipping. If you live elsewhere and don't mind pitching in the extra cost for international shipping {about $8 I think} I'll totally ship it to you)

4. Contact. I need a way to let you know you've won the prize. And I'll need your shipping address to send it to you. So sign up with blogger, or OpenID, or something that I can contact you with. Otherwise I'll move on to another contestant.

5. Have Fun!

More Death Less Caffeine: Revisted

What the hell? First my sendmail box is axed and now my coffee maker kicks the bucket? I mean sure we can manage with a Windows box taking over for smtp functions. We've all adjusted to meaningless event log entries, stupid glurge icons and pointless clicking through Microsoft menus, but my coffee pot? How much pain can one man endure!

My wife wakes me up the other morning.

"Hon, the coffee pot won't turn on."
"What?"
"Nevermind. It's fine."
"That's not funny!"
"Well it wasn't working but now it- no. wait."
"Patricia?"
"No. It's off again."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"
"Peter? Are you sobbing over a coffee maker?"

In many ways that coffee maker has shown me more love than most things in my life. It was always there for me. Always cheerful and completely dedicated. No whining, complaining or fiddling. You add some water, grounds and flip a switch. Minutes later, you get coffee. Hello! Here's for a little constancy in the life of a working man!

"It's 8:00 in the morning. I need coffee."
"Beep"
"It's 2:30 in the afternoon. I need coffee."
"Beep"
"It's 1:15 in the morning. I need coffee."
"Beep"
"I love you."
"Peter are you hugging the coffee pot?"
"What?! Oh- Hey hon."
"When was the last time you showed me that much appreciation?"
"Maybe if you had a 12 cup carafe, charcoal filter and delayed brew feature..."

Anyway, for the last 7 years or so my coffee maker has been dedicated to my happiness. So I thought a memorial was in order.

"Where's the coffee maker?"
"I threw it out. It was broken"
"Oh. I was going to say a few words."
"Oh, give me a break Peter..."

Trouble

Running just means you get more crap on your back...

A Gentleman in Traffic

This morning on the way into the office I was wearing an old flannel shirt sporting no less than three holes in it. (For the record I'm still wearing it and have not decided to go all 'office nudist.' I'm sure my coworkers appreciate that.) In addition to my old shirt I didn't shave this morning and as such am a bit grizzly looking. (In that overweight baby faced geeky sort of grizzly look. You don't see many of these in nature as they spend most of their time in trees avoiding the other more macho grizzlies.) So this morning while I rounded the penultimate corner to my office I passed someone who stood out to me. A gentleman in traffic.

In contrasts to my attire and grooming this man looked like my polar opposite. He was a late-middle aged white haired man. He sat up straight with perfect posture behind the wheel of his Bavarian made coupe. He had a finely trimmed white beard that appeared to give even more credence to his motivated face. He wore a pair of wire rim glasses and had both hands on his rosewood steering wheel.

I only saw for an instant but it was enough to give me an impression. Immediately I thought, "It's Sigmund Freud!" Wait, that's ridiculous! After I got hold of my senses. I re-approached the situation with a more rational mindset.

I reasoned that he must obviously be a undercover government operative. Either that or a doctor. Seeing as no doctors would ever be up that early in the morning, he must be with the CIA. So what would a CIA handler be doing heading east from the poultry packing facility? Is the foul stench of foul and the endless parade of paper gown clad migrant workers simply a front for a government prject?

That's when it hit me... Bigfoots. We all know that sasquatch are real and obviously used for border enforcement by the government. Why else would the Canadian border have such a low rate of crossing while the Mexican border leaked like a sieve? Obviously sasquatch are keeping it clear from lawless Canadian illegals, but at what cost? Chickens.

The chickens are used so that the beasties can stay hidden without the need to raid local AM/PM's or vacationers picnic baskets for sustenance. The less sightings of these creatures raises the fear the Canadian illegals will have when they meet face to furry belly button with the towering border guards. If there were pictures on the news and interviews with bigfoots on Larry King the CIA would lose the inherent usefulness of their army. So the CIA are shipping truckloads of chickens up to Montana, Minnesota, Maine, New York and North Dakota to feed theses border beasts. You'll notice that no sasquatch are patrolling Ohio or Michigan. Not even Canadians are that desperate.

So just know that good work is being done, here in my small town by clean, well groomed gentlemen and their loyal army of bigfoots in the ever growing war against rouge Canadian illegals. Either that or Sigmund Freud has been reborn...

Uselessness

As a point of clarification, I believe that more people read this blog on OS X than any other OS. Is that irony or just coincidence? Either way, kinda funny...

20 Signs You're A Lame Superhero

One of your best powers is turning into a bucket of water.

You're the female version of a real superhero. She-Thing? Seriously?

You have an invisible jet plane given to you by the Amazons.

You can speak with insects.

You can speak with dolphins.

You're half vampire.

The X-Men couldn't even find a good use for you.

You battle eco-villans and worldwide industrialism.

Your superhero name, chosen to strike fear into the enemy, includes the word boy.

You've got wings. Yeah, with feathers.

Your superpower involves a gun. Come on...

You let your worst enemy's off with just a warning, so they can kill again.

You acquired your powers in the Himalayans.

You acquired your powers from toxic waste.

You have the same powers as a squirrel.

You're big and ugly like the Hulk, but go by the name, Joe Fix-it

You use a bumble bee as a weapon.

You're the 'speedy' sidekick to a superhero that most people have never heard of.

You're an unstoppable orphan alien from a dead planet. You have a messiah complex but a subservient attitude to an over-aggressive female writer with a penchant for finding herself in trouble.

Oh, and you wear your underpants on the outside...

Hammer Time

You will not find this procedure in the manual for the $10,000 Quantum Superloader that up until recently resided in one of the racks of our server room. That doesn't mean it is not an effective means of extraction when the bolt has been stripped and your hand will not fit into the space to grip it. Plus hammers bring with them their own credence and understanding.

A hammer rarely says, "I'm here to negotiate a truce." Even technology can understand that sort of persuasion.

The Quantum Superloader, put up very little fight...