Have you ever gotten that feeling? Right after you get up, there is a series of Really Stupid Stuff<tm> happening and you say to yourself that you really should turn around and get back into bed?
Yesterday was my turn. It's a shame I never listen to myself.
It started, as most days do, with the noise from the blasted alarm clock. If there is anything more hated than phone salesmen, it's alarm clocks. In my normal morning haze, I observed the wife get up and head to the rest room. Not completely awake, she didn't shut the bedroom door.
An open or semi-open bedroom door is way too much temptation for the dog. Marshall was through the portal and down the steps before anyone knew. After all, if there is an open door, it's the Doorway to Trouble. I didn't watch it but I assume Marshall flew down the steps and ran at top speed to see if there was any cat food. This is a safe assumption because cat food is Marshall's number one interest. He checks in the morning, afternoon, evening and every time he comes in from outside.
My wife was justifiably concerned and signaled so by grunting, laying down and putting her eye cover on.
Finding no cat food (the cat was no doubt looking for it too - he behaves as if nobody ever feeds him), Marshall probably went for second place; the recycling bin, where empty cans of cat food are kept. He stands up, steals a can, takes it to his spot, then licks it clean. Sometimes we wonder why there are so many empty cat food cans all over the dining room, especially as we use a recycling bin, not the floor. It doesn't even matter that we already cleaned the cans - he apparently has to give it the Special Spaniel Seal of Sanitation (SSSS).
I got dressed and let the little monster out into his yard. When my wife does this, she looks at him sternly and tells him no barking. She swears up and down that he understands and most of the time he does not bark when he goes out. I see no such evidence. When I let him out, he immediately runs around the side, sits at the gate and barks for the neighbor to feed him. Yes, he trained his neighbor to bring him food on command.
The only problem with this arrangement is that the neighbor isn't always home. So Marshall will contently sit by his fence and bark every thirty seconds or so. I sometimes wonder whether he remembers he's supposed to go to the bathroom or not. Needless to say, when I say no barking, it has no effect whatsoever.
Yesterday was no exception and for some reason, Marshall decided to make the barking constant. I don't want to be the neighbor with the barky dog, so I had to run out to get him. Deciding it was best to go with shoes, I sat down on the couch to put them on amidst the annoying bark/squeak of my little monster.
There are some sounds that are iconic. A whoopee cushion is one. A fart is another. One of the most iconic comedy sounds is rrrrrrrrrrrripp. As all of us know, this signifies, well, something ripping.
Judging by the sudden cold, that would have been the brand new hole in the rear portion of my jeans.
My spine shivered and my eyes rolled back in my head. I thought that this would be a tremendous sitcom, especially if it weren't happening to me at that moment. With the sizable hole near my buttocks, I went outside to fetch the barky people trainer. It was a brave move - screw fashion (or modesty).
Yeah, I should have stayed in bed.
Having temporarily solved the barking issue, we all went back to the bedroom; Marshall for his morning nap and me for a less well-vented pair of jeans. While the wife was ostensibly sleeping, I swore I heard giggling.
At work I discovered that my task overload had multiplied overnight. Keeping a cool head about myself, I continued on with the work, when I got an email from my brother. He wanted to know if I had heard.
Heard about what?
The lady who assaulted her baby.
No, but what about her?
She's Mom's neighbor.
Oh. Mom knows people, doesn't she?
She was going to buy a baby present. For that particular baby.
Oh (again).
Mom makes friends quickly. Apparently her complex is the complex in which to live, if you like occasional drama. She thinks it was the husband anyway. I wonder if she interviewed the police or it was the other way around.
We were local celebrities. Not Mom... our car. When the news showed up, they panned by our car. My wife was thrilled. I was thrilled, too (that there weren't any deer involved with our car).
Back to work, I was busy doing Stuff for a legal case. It's all hush hush, you know.
Never one to be silent, my phone blared for attention - it was the wife. All of this baby assaulting had everyone in a spin. This was not good. Fortunately she slept it off.
Work Stuff refused to take even a minimal break. The Stuff I was doing had an inadvertent effect on the network, causing no end of grief and minor calls for blood, which expanded to the entire department. Nothing was actually wrong - it was just politics.
[Sigh]
I'm not a drinking man but I'm starting to wonder if I should look into it.
Probably should have stayed in bed this morning. Let this be a lesson to you: listen to the voices - they may have a point.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Pope Ain't No Dope
So the nazi pope has stepped down, which came as a surprise to apparently everyone (yes, he was a nazi when he was younger).
Pope can cite ill health all he wants; the last time a pope retired, many people could not read and write. Usually popes are buried, hence my skepticism.
One of the more interesting pieces of news around this announcement is that They are saying that perhaps it's time to go with a new pope from a different area, like Africa.
BOOM!
FLASH!
It hit me instantly: this pope is getting while the getting is good. He is not a stupid pontiff; he sees the legal writing in the wall. He is escaping before the excrement hits the rotating device.
Then, when he's gone, they're going to blame it on the black guy.
The Catholic Church appears to be one of the largest, most corrupt organizations on the planet. In case you're not up to date, this is an organization that has tacitly approved pedophilia by covering it up and reassigning the offenders to other parishes, sometimes in different countries.
You can call it coincidence if it happens in one or two United States but when it happens in many states in many countries, it's no longer a coincidence. When there is evidence of a cover up and proof that the church repeatedly moved pedophile priests around to offend in new places, the church has a legal problem (not to mention a moral one). And don't get me started on the Boy Scouts.
A psychologist I know provided the best insight into this problem: when you take a group of people and put them in a situation where they have to ignore a basic human instinct, you have a problem like this. Others have suggested that priesthood is a calling for pedophiles in the first place.
I have previously called for the United States to prosecute the church under the RICO statutes. RICO refers to racketeering and was used initially against organized crime. Then our good friends in government started to apply it outside of the mafia, especially when they discovered Asset Forfeiture.
A legal source said that while it is possible to bring a RICO case against the church, no one would dare do it because the political ramifications would be dire. It's sad but I get it.
Perhaps the UN or a similar body could make itself useful and bring the church up on charges in front of the whole world. There is no doubt of their guilt but they should have a fair trial.
NOTE: Many of my friends are Catholic. I have no problem with them or their faith. My issue is with their headquarters.
Pope can cite ill health all he wants; the last time a pope retired, many people could not read and write. Usually popes are buried, hence my skepticism.
One of the more interesting pieces of news around this announcement is that They are saying that perhaps it's time to go with a new pope from a different area, like Africa.
BOOM!
FLASH!
It hit me instantly: this pope is getting while the getting is good. He is not a stupid pontiff; he sees the legal writing in the wall. He is escaping before the excrement hits the rotating device.
Then, when he's gone, they're going to blame it on the black guy.
=========================
The Catholic Church appears to be one of the largest, most corrupt organizations on the planet. In case you're not up to date, this is an organization that has tacitly approved pedophilia by covering it up and reassigning the offenders to other parishes, sometimes in different countries.
You can call it coincidence if it happens in one or two United States but when it happens in many states in many countries, it's no longer a coincidence. When there is evidence of a cover up and proof that the church repeatedly moved pedophile priests around to offend in new places, the church has a legal problem (not to mention a moral one). And don't get me started on the Boy Scouts.
A psychologist I know provided the best insight into this problem: when you take a group of people and put them in a situation where they have to ignore a basic human instinct, you have a problem like this. Others have suggested that priesthood is a calling for pedophiles in the first place.
I have previously called for the United States to prosecute the church under the RICO statutes. RICO refers to racketeering and was used initially against organized crime. Then our good friends in government started to apply it outside of the mafia, especially when they discovered Asset Forfeiture.
A legal source said that while it is possible to bring a RICO case against the church, no one would dare do it because the political ramifications would be dire. It's sad but I get it.
Perhaps the UN or a similar body could make itself useful and bring the church up on charges in front of the whole world. There is no doubt of their guilt but they should have a fair trial.
NOTE: Many of my friends are Catholic. I have no problem with them or their faith. My issue is with their headquarters.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Feline Aviation and Beyonce for the Win
We're fighting with the cat again. Still.
To be honest, it's been a battle from the beginning. I'm not what you'd call a cat person. This one, however, is at least quite personable. Unfortunately this doesn't balance against his propensity for destruction, evil, and general bone-headedness.
Ren earned the nickname Satan when we first got him. He would leap onto the stove, turning on the gas on the way up. Apparently the little bugger was trying to blow up the house with himself in it. We had to remove the knobs for a few months.
Then came xmas and xmas trees. Satan disembowled every xmas tree we put up, year after year until we gave up. He ruined many old, treasured ornaments by hurling them to the ground, where they smashed into pieces too small to repair.
He is not allowed to sleep in the bedroom because he claws the bed or my wife when he's hungry and won't stop until you feed him. Note that the dog does not do this, preferring to sleep in with his people. The worst thing Marshall does in bed is steal a pillow or blanket.
Cat Food Ballet<tm> is getting past the point of frustration in the house lately. Ren gets fed in the kitchen, with the door closed, then Marshall gets fed in the living room. Marshall doesn't care, instead spending all of his time in front of the kitchen door, waiting for the Cat Food Gods to open the door so he can lick the bowl clean. There aren't even microbes of cat food after Marshall is done.
Meanwhile Ren then runs over to Marshall's food and starts eating it. Ren was pretty much cured of diabetes and is not supposed to be eating dog food so we tell him to move. MOVE. I SAID MOVE, YOU LITTLE BASTARD. He doesn't even look up. You have to physically get up and make a move toward him before he takes off.
Five minutes later, he's back, as if we never said anything to him. If I had a squirt gun, I'd let it loose on him. Instead, I have to keep getting up. Yesterday I threw a shirt at him, which moved him a bit and he was back a few minutes later.
If the kitchen door isn't shut correctly, Marshall will open it and force his way into Ren's food. You have to physically remove him from the bowl, in the most spectacular case of Selective Hearing I've ever seen. Neither of the little bastards listen, except when convenient.
Meanwhile, Ren has also taken to urinating randomly on the rug. He has two litter boxes and it doesn't matter. He is in perfect health so this is simply an attitude problem. One of his new nicknames is Caboose because he's the last cat we will ever have. My house should not smell like cat urine because the feline who lives there has a bad attitude.
Ren has also discovered the out of doors and apparently doesn't mind rain or snow. He has spent several nights outside. He has all his claws so we're not worried about him protecting himself. In fact he reminds us about his claws on the furniture all the time. No matter how much we express our dislike for this annoyance.
Just to even things up a bit, Marshall has discovered Catbox as Snackbox. Suddenly dog kisses just aren't the same.
Marshall is also inordinately fond of trash. When he's not cleaning the cat bowl, he's trolling the trash for interesting morsels. Marshall is a very interesting test of housekeeping. If you can't see or hear him, he's in trouble; which was caused by one of the humans not putting something away. Or he took yet another package of popcorn off the dining room table and ate most of it. He has a genuine love for kettle corn (and sweets in general, like his daddy).
That fellow must be in charge of the Kool Aid.
In other news, I jailbroke my iPad. Went smoothly, worked on linux, allows a lot more freedom.
To be honest, it's been a battle from the beginning. I'm not what you'd call a cat person. This one, however, is at least quite personable. Unfortunately this doesn't balance against his propensity for destruction, evil, and general bone-headedness.
Ren earned the nickname Satan when we first got him. He would leap onto the stove, turning on the gas on the way up. Apparently the little bugger was trying to blow up the house with himself in it. We had to remove the knobs for a few months.
Then came xmas and xmas trees. Satan disembowled every xmas tree we put up, year after year until we gave up. He ruined many old, treasured ornaments by hurling them to the ground, where they smashed into pieces too small to repair.
He is not allowed to sleep in the bedroom because he claws the bed or my wife when he's hungry and won't stop until you feed him. Note that the dog does not do this, preferring to sleep in with his people. The worst thing Marshall does in bed is steal a pillow or blanket.
Cat Food Ballet<tm> is getting past the point of frustration in the house lately. Ren gets fed in the kitchen, with the door closed, then Marshall gets fed in the living room. Marshall doesn't care, instead spending all of his time in front of the kitchen door, waiting for the Cat Food Gods to open the door so he can lick the bowl clean. There aren't even microbes of cat food after Marshall is done.
Meanwhile Ren then runs over to Marshall's food and starts eating it. Ren was pretty much cured of diabetes and is not supposed to be eating dog food so we tell him to move. MOVE. I SAID MOVE, YOU LITTLE BASTARD. He doesn't even look up. You have to physically get up and make a move toward him before he takes off.
Five minutes later, he's back, as if we never said anything to him. If I had a squirt gun, I'd let it loose on him. Instead, I have to keep getting up. Yesterday I threw a shirt at him, which moved him a bit and he was back a few minutes later.
If the kitchen door isn't shut correctly, Marshall will open it and force his way into Ren's food. You have to physically remove him from the bowl, in the most spectacular case of Selective Hearing I've ever seen. Neither of the little bastards listen, except when convenient.
Meanwhile, Ren has also taken to urinating randomly on the rug. He has two litter boxes and it doesn't matter. He is in perfect health so this is simply an attitude problem. One of his new nicknames is Caboose because he's the last cat we will ever have. My house should not smell like cat urine because the feline who lives there has a bad attitude.
Ren has also discovered the out of doors and apparently doesn't mind rain or snow. He has spent several nights outside. He has all his claws so we're not worried about him protecting himself. In fact he reminds us about his claws on the furniture all the time. No matter how much we express our dislike for this annoyance.
Just to even things up a bit, Marshall has discovered Catbox as Snackbox. Suddenly dog kisses just aren't the same.
Marshall is also inordinately fond of trash. When he's not cleaning the cat bowl, he's trolling the trash for interesting morsels. Marshall is a very interesting test of housekeeping. If you can't see or hear him, he's in trouble; which was caused by one of the humans not putting something away. Or he took yet another package of popcorn off the dining room table and ate most of it. He has a genuine love for kettle corn (and sweets in general, like his daddy).
----------------------------
HEY EVERYONE - did you watch the Superbowl?
C'mon, you know I am the AntiSports. It's only mid-day and already I'm sick over my head of hearing about the Superbowl from my coworkers and online. Rome is burning and all we talk about is WOW -that halftime show! Some of us are actually watching tv for the commercials. Some of us are so vapid that we must spend all our time talking about how fantastic Beyonce was and how fabulous it was that her old group showed up and how about their outfits and dancing?
Bread and circuses indeed.
---------------------------
For some unknown reason, my company was meeting with people from Apple. Overheard at the meeting: We don't really listen to customer input. We create the future and everybody can just catch up.
That fellow must be in charge of the Kool Aid.
In other news, I jailbroke my iPad. Went smoothly, worked on linux, allows a lot more freedom.
--------------------------
Apparently most of our newspapers have been hacked by the Chinese. This is a very perplexing happenstance. After thinking about it for a bit, I have decided that this is a non-story: even if the Chinese decided to take over our newspapers, they could not do a worse job than the existing ones. It's win-win for everyone.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Son of Return of Hyundai Hell
So I've largely stopped trying to tear my face off; that's a good thing. The Stupidbowl is over too. My favorite moment was when my (traitor) wife went to bed - I got to turn the tv off.
It's been lightly snowing off and on every other day or so, which brought up something about the car: the ESC traction control (or whatever it is) is going off a lot earlier these days. Let me put it this way: in over two years with the Hyundai, it has almost never kicked in. Now it kicks in as soon as there's a coating of snow on the ground. We have no idea why.
Perhaps motivated by the horrible noises the ESC makes, my wife took the car to have the brakes checked. POOF - the brakes were band and had started eating into the rotors. No warning, no squealing, no brake lights and the requisite four-hundred dollars to fix it.
Have I mentioned that one of the headlights is out too? We looked up the process for changing a headlight and discovered it was way too ridiculously difficult and left it for the mechanic. The last place we took it too said they were afraid of breaking it and told us to take it elsewhere. Elsewhere charged us a frightening amount of money for a bulb. In my many years of driving, I always changed my own bulbs. At most it was a few bucks and some cursing.
So during the brake fiasco, the shop noted that all four tires needed replacing. I thought the top of my head was going to explode, painting the ceiling a bright red, with spots that might look like cranium and other small bits that looked like cauliflower.
Stick with me for a Financial Moment<tm>: a fiscally smart coworker stated that his decision to purchase a new(er) car was when the monthly cost of repairs exceeded the monthly cost of purchasing the car. With two old land yachts, we were routinely spending over what one new car would cost so we went for it.
I was so proud of my almost new Hyundai. It started every morning, which was largely what I was looking for in an automobile. Until we discovered the tires. PERFORMANCE TIRES on a Hyundai, at two-hundred plus dollars a piece. The stock ones were crappy and needed to be replaced.
Back to the present, after replacing all four performance tires, they needed to be replaced again. The shop showed us the wear and the statistics on when we purchased two of them. They were only rated for thirty thousand miles. The ones we purchased elsewhere were in even worse shape.
I have completely had it with Hyundai and the idiotic decision to put large rims and performance tires on an import family sedan. This is an additional eight-hundred dollars plus that it will cost to make the car driveable/inspectable. I used to love my car; now I can't stand to look at it. In spite of a great used warranty, I suspect this car is trying to bankrupt me by failing in small, expensive pieces. It's like the prison camp prisoner who had to have limbs amputated and the guards accused him of trying to escape in pieces.
The mechanic at the shop agreed with us on the tires and suggested we just get different rims and sensible tires for the car and be done with it.
Our tax refund this year was earmarked for a new couch. The current couch is extremely old and is sagging to the point where it makes my butt hurt when I sit for too long. This got scrapped when the car started draining our bodily fluids. So this is over twelve-hundred dollars to start the year.
We're more than tired of this type of excrement storm. It hits fairly regularly. Others verify that if it weren't for bad luck, we'd have no luck at all. Later this month, we celebrate our twentieth anniversary and my wife attempted to give me a present. I can't accept it, knowing that it will only get sucked out an exhaust pipe or a pharmacy.
It's been lightly snowing off and on every other day or so, which brought up something about the car: the ESC traction control (or whatever it is) is going off a lot earlier these days. Let me put it this way: in over two years with the Hyundai, it has almost never kicked in. Now it kicks in as soon as there's a coating of snow on the ground. We have no idea why.
Perhaps motivated by the horrible noises the ESC makes, my wife took the car to have the brakes checked. POOF - the brakes were band and had started eating into the rotors. No warning, no squealing, no brake lights and the requisite four-hundred dollars to fix it.
Have I mentioned that one of the headlights is out too? We looked up the process for changing a headlight and discovered it was way too ridiculously difficult and left it for the mechanic. The last place we took it too said they were afraid of breaking it and told us to take it elsewhere. Elsewhere charged us a frightening amount of money for a bulb. In my many years of driving, I always changed my own bulbs. At most it was a few bucks and some cursing.
So during the brake fiasco, the shop noted that all four tires needed replacing. I thought the top of my head was going to explode, painting the ceiling a bright red, with spots that might look like cranium and other small bits that looked like cauliflower.
Stick with me for a Financial Moment<tm>: a fiscally smart coworker stated that his decision to purchase a new(er) car was when the monthly cost of repairs exceeded the monthly cost of purchasing the car. With two old land yachts, we were routinely spending over what one new car would cost so we went for it.
I was so proud of my almost new Hyundai. It started every morning, which was largely what I was looking for in an automobile. Until we discovered the tires. PERFORMANCE TIRES on a Hyundai, at two-hundred plus dollars a piece. The stock ones were crappy and needed to be replaced.
Back to the present, after replacing all four performance tires, they needed to be replaced again. The shop showed us the wear and the statistics on when we purchased two of them. They were only rated for thirty thousand miles. The ones we purchased elsewhere were in even worse shape.
I have completely had it with Hyundai and the idiotic decision to put large rims and performance tires on an import family sedan. This is an additional eight-hundred dollars plus that it will cost to make the car driveable/inspectable. I used to love my car; now I can't stand to look at it. In spite of a great used warranty, I suspect this car is trying to bankrupt me by failing in small, expensive pieces. It's like the prison camp prisoner who had to have limbs amputated and the guards accused him of trying to escape in pieces.
The mechanic at the shop agreed with us on the tires and suggested we just get different rims and sensible tires for the car and be done with it.
Our tax refund this year was earmarked for a new couch. The current couch is extremely old and is sagging to the point where it makes my butt hurt when I sit for too long. This got scrapped when the car started draining our bodily fluids. So this is over twelve-hundred dollars to start the year.
We're more than tired of this type of excrement storm. It hits fairly regularly. Others verify that if it weren't for bad luck, we'd have no luck at all. Later this month, we celebrate our twentieth anniversary and my wife attempted to give me a present. I can't accept it, knowing that it will only get sucked out an exhaust pipe or a pharmacy.
--------------------------------
In other news, work went to set up a videoconference this morning, only to find the large-screen monitor missing. Again. This makes the third set of large-screen monitors stolen from work. It was literally ripped from the wall.
Management does not believe in Big Brotherism, hence no security cameras: the thief must have really needed the monitors. At this point, I demand that work give me a large-screen television. After all, I have an old CRT-based television so I really need a new one. Since the thieves are allowed to steal because they need it, I deserve one too (ten years should entitle me to something).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)