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Archive for the ‘BS’ Category

To ask is to receive…

This morning Cruel Wife sent me the picture below.  She said something to the effect “you probably think this is me most of the time”.

I would never say such a thing.

ask

I would say this of a co-worker though.  Asks my opinion and then continues to argue for what they wanted in the first place, and I cannot understand why they wouldn’t just go with that in the first place.

****

I saw this yesterday.  Obama wants to know why there’s so much hatin’ going on.

 

 

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(subtitled:  Stalling for Time)

I was waiting for a flight two nights ago, trapped in the decaying moments between slowed heartbeats. Time tides flowed sideways in irregular surges and only moved forward in regions of eddying currents.

Unexpectedly I got a call from a surprising source – nature.

It was one of those moments we all have had where pre-flight stress and a pepper jack fajita omelette collide with the grace of drunk hippos and your intestinal tract rebels against inaction.

In short, I needed a restroom, and I needed it RFN.

I tried the ages old Man Code usually reserved for selecting the proper urinal in order to locate a toilet stall but apparently multiple guys had also eaten pepper jack fajita omelettes earlier and the only other two empty stalls looked like they were crawling with Hepatitis A and unidentifiable parasites.  So neither Door #1 or Door #5 looked preferable to internal rupture and sepsis.

Thus, flanked by two used stalls I picked Door #3 and stepped inside. Trou droppage and the usual maneuvering went without incident, as one would expect given my lifetime of practice in such things.

As I sat there, wondering why my internal organs were suddenly being coy after such a cry and hue only moments earlier, I noticed in the stall to my left what seemed to be a large-ish deep-voiced gentleman having a conversation on his cellphone.

This struck me as an extremely peculiar place in which to carry on a conversation, even as humorous and good-natured as it seemed from his tone of voice. It also seemed obvious that he had a lot of luggage, judging by the thudding sounds and the shuddering of the stall walls.

He was saying “(indistrict conversation) Huh… ha, ha, ha… Uh huh.”

The pre-flight pharmaceuticals (legally prescribed) that I had ingested on orders of my physician were kicking in so it took a moment for my brain to process amongst more thudding noises the man’s next words “Heh heh uhhhhh… That stuff burns my scrotum… (Long pause)… We gotta do this again some time.”

The cure for intestinal hesitation is not “scary clowns” as you would be led to believe in the movie Zombieland, but rather the knowledge that you need to vacate several places – (intestinal and environmental) immediately unless you want to have a very awkward post flagrante delicto encounter with an amorous couple of guys in the men’s room of the airport in Portlandia.

Most of the experience could be considered horrible enough but such events in Portlandia of all places made the situation nigh on unbearable.

There was a crap-ton of hand soap at the sinks but nothing suitable or powerful enough with which to sanitize my now feverish brain. I quickly opted for a second round of pharmaceuticals after returning to my safe bench seat outside of the flow of time, and I continued to wait for my flight with a sense of newfound graceful patience.

There, McGoo… My story did not actually invoke King’s short story “The Jaunt” but there was an element of irony to be found here… My hair is now whiter.

****
Before I left on vacation I was nervous that I had forgotten something that someone would need for a project’s completion.  So a scientist suggested I put together a box which I named exactly as he said.  In true Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K) fashion I gave it a ridiculous acronym.

Within minutes a note appeared next to it with a tiny box usually used for a 50 count of small fasteners.

humilityIt has been said that I have an ego.

And it was then also said that perhaps the box provided for my ego was actually several sizes too large.

I haven’t laughed tears like that in years.

“Arrogance must be earned.  Tell me what you did to earn yours.”  – House, M.D.

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Airports, where time stops.

Cruel Wife and the kids dropped me off at PDX three hours early so they could make it to their hotel.

Honestly, I needed the down time. I hate goodbyes with family I see once a year.

Did you know that time stops in airports? Just like hospitals, courtrooms, funeral homes, and shopping malls.

But as I cruise the ‘net, I find interesting things, and this one brought a huge smile to my face. Not for the young victim, because nothing will fix him, and my heart bleeds for him. But the smile came from seeing this sorry sack of shit get what he has coming to him.

Actually he has more that he deserves, but I bet it will come to him soon enough.

The father is a saint, for having the self control to not kick the sick son of a bitch to death.

Yeah, you’ll have to pardon my frame of mind. I will be better in a few days.

an eternity later

Just saw Peter Ustinov. He shambled into the airport men’s room as I left it.

I am not sure which is more disturbing; Seeing Peter Ustinov or the realization of how old I have to be to recognize a long dead actor from so many years ago.

“Thirty five minutes” until my flight begins boarding. Might as well be like the Stephen King short story “The Jaunt”.

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Stress Felines.

Several of us at work have been lobbying for a company feline.

A cat who wanders around and provides fuzz therapy to stressed out engineers. How could that go wrong? Relaxed laser engineers are engineers who do not read Braille.

I had thought a name that played on our company name would be good, as a mascot. After reconsideration, I believe I have a better name.

Karoshi

What better choice? It works on many levels. A hidden joke, a statement about the work environment, and a dig at cats, who generally are not known for being work beasts. Generally.

When the boss asks about the origin of the name I would just say “it is a Super Mario Kart character name.”

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I hink I stole this from AG over at H&B.

20140704-031154-11514313.jpg

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Spent the last week earning my arrogance – it requires yearly upkeep to keep your certs current. In a few more days… Vacation. A much needed vacation. Badly so.

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We’ll start with ugly. This what I think Hell must sound like. Real crazy people shrieking and destroying an abandoned factory as therapy.

Ugly but funny is this item sent to me by Laconic Pup…

 

darkHaving a creeper not too long ago sneak into my house through an open door and blow up the center of my room – and every chest, furnace, and workbench – this one kind of hits home.  Damn creepers.

Now, simply the bad. Portsmouth Sinfonia.

What is interesting is not the music, although it made me laugh like a loon. What is interesting is the brain can tell you every single wrong note, which argues for even music being stored as a series of metaphors.

The good. Hmmm.

I am really not sure what this thing is but it makes me smile and makes me uneasy at the same time.

20140623-010723-4043984.jpg

Well go read some Real Science. Ought to cheer you up.

Or this.

20140623-012425-5065250.jpg

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Today, the USPTO denied the Redskins their trademark on grounds that it was illegally insensitive and hurt some injun’s feelings somewhere.

Yes, in Colbert fashion I meant to illustrate the ridiculousness of the situation. (See “Sing-Song Chin-Chong” in any web search involving Colbert)

I ask you this: How many pro teams intentionally name their team and go by something meant disparagingly?

Do they have team names like:

Closet Wankers
Dripping Chihuahuas
Cone-Heads
Pocket Trouts
Thundering Manatees

No, they do not. You know why… Because they want to sound noble or fierce or they want to be proud of their mascot. They don’t pick disparaging terms, they just don’t.

So why do we give any attention to a bunch of wanks who say they are offended? To be denied a trademark, someone has to show damages.

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Hey hey hey… Obama doesn’t need to ask Congressional approval in Iraq because, as his cheerleader San Fran Nan says, the authorities are already in place.

Pelosi told reporters that she agreed that the president has all of the authorities that he needs in the authorizations to use military force passed by Congress previously.

“All of the authorities are there. That doesn’t mean I want all of them to be used, especially boots on the ground,” she said. “But I definitely think the president has all of the authority he needs by dint of legislation that was passed in 2001 and 2003.”

She appeared to be referring to the authorizations to use military force passed after the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks and the 2002 authorization to use force in Iraq. Neither of those authorizations have expired, although the official White House position is that the Iraq authorization should be repealed.

Oh, the same authorities granted based on what the dems have called Bush/Cheney lies to invade Iraq for oil? THOSE authorities?

Let’s do the time warp again.

Anyway…

A senior Democratic aide briefed on the meeting disputed McConnell’s characterization of Obama’s remarks. “Whether intentionally or not, Senator McConnell’s comments mischaracterize the tone and the substance of the meeting. The President was very clear that he would keep Congress in the loop.”

Similar to Obama’s most transparent administration ever? Yeah.

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From the “Almost the Most Useless Information Ever” Depatrment…

Americans sleep twice as much as they work, on average.

Averages mean NOTHING. Nothing.

If only one person in ten makes a million dollars and the rest make none at all then the average earnings are $100,000. It is a worthless statement.

From the article it is numbers pulled from ages 15 and up. The kids sleep more, work less. The adults work more, sleep less in general. But everybody sleeps some. Not everybody works. It is a totally bullshit pile of stupid.

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Sea to shining sea.

The hearse with the extension ladder in front of us braked heavily, sending up a cloud of dust in the gravel road.

Nice opening sentence, huh?

Cruel Wife stomped her brakes soon after a breath whistled between my passenger-seat-driver teeth. I have never been comfortable when to driving in spite of asking her to drive roughly two-thirds of the time.

“Hey, there is a clown on the back of that hearse. An evil clown.”

“Yeah, I saw it,” she replied. “I mentioned that already.”

“Sure makes a statement when you own a hearse with an extension ladder, huh? Not sure what it says though.”

More whistles and sharp intakes of breath filled the car as people crossed the road in a dizzying flurry of cheap LED lights and glow-in-the-dark rings. This time she braked in a sharp rebuke to my neck, a nonverbal cue that I should be quiet and let her drive.

I respected her wishes for a count of five and then said “Gosh, that was quite a fireworks show for a small county like [name_censored]. It was huge. And the music they played… Patriotic American music, all of it good, except maybe Bruce Springsteen. ‘Born in the USA’, ok, yeah I get it, but he’s a huge liberal and then, too, was twerker-butt whatserface I think you said. With that choice of songs, I tell you what… the people of [name_censored] County did not elect Obama.”

“No, no they didn’t,” said Cruel Wife, grinding her molars even flatter. She is no fan of the man.

Not wanting her to drive angry for a second time tonight (the first of which I will tell you of tomorrow) I changed the topic. Driving angry with Cruel Wife is a lot like being on a decaying out of control carnival ride when the operator has just died from one too many Elephant ears.

“You know, there are people who fear clowns.” I could not remember the latin and missed a great chance to dazzle my children once more with my brilliance. Coulrophobia is the term, but remembering it ten minutes later impresses no one.

“Oh yeah?

“Sure. The Butcher of Lansing hates clowns, and at work The Dread Queen’s husband is terrified of them. She wouldn’t even take my evil clown mask home to torture him. It is crippling.”

My daughter seemed vulnerable to some teasing so I informed the kids that Killer Klowns from Outer Space is one of my favorite movies. I said “So what happens in the movie is…”

Lemurita yelled “Nooooo! Don’t say it!”

As I hoped she had taken my bait, swallowing the lure completely and setting the hook. “Since you ask, what happens is that evil space clow…”

“NOOOOOO!” she screamed shrilly. “I don’t want to hear it!”

To Cruel Wife I said “I am so evil.”

“Yes.”

HackerBoy had been pretty quiet and I heard him say in his soft voice “What happens in the movie?” Over his sister’s loud ‘la-la-la-la’ with her fingers in her ears I explained to him the incredible depth and nuances of the movie, a feat that took all of a minute with time left over to add, “It is a cool and funny movie.” I am not sure he was convinced.

I can only hope that some day we can enjoy Bubba Ho-Tep and John Dies at the End together.

“Hey, is that a hand sticking out of the bumper?”

“I said that already,” sighed Cruel Wife resignedly.

Thirty minutes before we had been waiting for the start of the [name_censored] County Family Laser Light and Fireworks Show. It finally cranked up with one of the better performances of the National Anthem that I have ever heard. My legs had fallen asleep so I had to settle for hat off and hand over my heart while sitting on the ground. It is perhaps a lapse in my parenting that I had to remind my kids to sit up and put their hands over their hearts, but they did it, so I am not displeased.

The lasers fired up and I realized that they were aimed out over the crowd and they were perhaps outside of my comfort zone in intensity. I work with lasers every single day and some of them (most) are high power lasers so I felt justified in my concern. I could do little else besides tell them to not stare at the sources where the scatter was brightest and look elsewhere. If Murphy and his damn law showed up and blinded everyone I wasn’t going to leave us with no one to drive home. We could go into MPE and laser eye safety, and debate the actual damage in this situation, but I like my vision.

The lasers did not last long and soon we heard song after patriotic song.

The fireworks themselves were awesome. Flat out the best I have seen, and I never expected that good of a show at [name_censored] County Family Laser Light and Fireworks Show. The bursts went on nonstop for a very long time, did a finale, and then a rib-cage-squeezing and ear-ringing encore.

I knew I was being played, with the music selection and show biz aspect of things, but I remembered with some feeling that I was damn glad to be an American and was actually moved by they whole thing. For some reason it just seemed to me that in our area, the prevailing crowd’s attitude tonight was one of “We needed this.”

Pretty amazing for a cynic like me. But it made me determined that those of us who do love our country need to get it back from the “bipartisan” slimebags in our government who think this next election will leave them untouched. Immigration Reform is not the future of America.

I sat there on the blanket on a mosquito-less cool summer night with my arm around HackerBoy and Lemurita snuggled close to steal what heat she could, and was thankful for it.

Seemed like it was a pretty good lead-in to Father’s Day.

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