I Have Plenty of Hair - Just Look in the Drain

Life is Python.
Python is Life.

I just caught a really good documentary on Monty Python, covering the lead up to their O2 appearance. One of the points they hammered at (and got hammered on) is their age; constantly referred to as septuagenarian, or 70s, in French. Well, they certainly looked older, but consider that the shows started in the late 60s. They're certainly going to have gray hair and other normal issues related to age. Graham Chapman had the ultimate issue related to age: he's dead (although technically it was related to illness).

They covered what the Pythons had been up to, Eric Idle taking the reins of leadership for the appearance, and rehearsals, which some couldn't make due to prior commitments. Putting on a show of this magnitude required an immense effort, from Eric to dancers to props. There was a scene where Eric was driving through his 'hood in L.A., headed off to a storage unit. There he found a picture of the first time he met George Harrison, some gold records, and finally, the albatross he was after.

The following day I watched a relatively recent Deep Purple concert, noting that our classic rock heroes are getting up there. Jeff Beck and the Zeppelins are all septuagenarians. Contrasted with the Pythons, the rockers are still relatively young, hair dye aside.

What have we learned?
That rock and roll keeps you young and that if you put mayonnaise on corn on the cob, I will lose my previous meal upon your person.

• In a survey, half of Americans don't want self-driving cars. Of course they don't want self-driving cars - they crash. They're not ready for prime time.
• Maybe some Americans aren't as stupid as they look.

Turkish protesters took sledgehammers, handguns, and fire to iPhones.
Why? Do the Turks feel like I do about iDevices?
No, they're protesting Donald Trump's administration.

I call on you, readers of this blog, to follow the brave example of the Turks and take sledgehammers, handguns, and fire to iPhones, to protest President Trump's failure to jail Hillary Clinton. If you're unwilling to destroy your own $1,000 property, maim someone else's. If that fails, join my other protest: we're burning old, broken printers to protest Turkey's protest. We'll show them.

• I'm seeing commercials for a tv show called Born This Way, about people born with Down Syndrome. Could someone please explain the attraction of the show and its high ratings? Disclosure: I haven't watched the show, as the commercials provided nothing of interest for me. There are enough disabilities around me - why watch them on tv?

A 41 year old Iraq vet suffered from PTSD, attempting suicide five times after his 2009 discharge. The medicines he was prescribed left him with side effects and he still felt suicidal. He participated in a clinical trial of MDMA (ecstasy/molly), and within a few doses, he wasn't suicidal.

I'm glad the soldier got some help. Our veterans are sometimes treated like collateral damage. This is because Lockheed Martin doesn't build soldiers. Make no mistake - Iraq, Afghanistan and many other wars are unnecessary, but if these men and women served, they deserve the best we can provide. The president has made VA reform a high priority: I hope he succeeds.

Incidentally, ketamine (vitamin K, animal tranquilizer, party drug) is being used to treat depression. War on drugs my ass. Just wait til the drug companies start to sell these.... all of the sudden they will become Miracle Cures.

• The Powers That Be in dog rescue have indicated they're still looking for a dog for us. If you know of an American or English cocker in the Philly area, please get in touch. We're looking for a young adult who's not insane and has no issues.

My favorite religious skewer is the satanists. It would almost seem that they were put together to defend freedom of religion. Little Rock, Arkansas, has unveiled an eight foot state of Baphomet at the Arkansas state capitol.  How did this happen? The legislators approved a Ten Commandments monument. The satanists insisted on inclusion for the sake of plurality and got what they were asking.

Much as I love the point and the apoplexy it caused, I'm coming out against pluralism, satan or not. #1A is about the State not having anything to do with religion. In this case, 'plurality' is a sneaky end-around, in order to get one group's religious symbol put up. 

What would Attorney lefty, Constitutional non-scholar and not-noted libertarian, recommend? The removal of all religious iconography. Require the virtue-signalling legislators to take a Constitution 101 course. Require they view a presentation on satanism. Then send them back to their overstuffed office chairs and have them practice minimal government. 

The nerve of these Bubbas is astounding.

Naturally, Little Rock's Great Unwashed is marching in lock step, mounting a protest against the satanist statue. Because their religion should get preference over freedom of religion. Also because there are no other problems in the state.

• It's 7am. I'm technically awake, and there's an ungodly noise coming through the windows: it's heavy equipment. Equipment so heavy, it sounds like someone doing construction on a highway. This is the loudest noise to grace our street since the 757 landed in our driveway. The neighbor is already busy cutting grass. She doesn't push the mower - it moves away in fear. She's been at it for over an hour... I think she's going blade by blade.
• Ancient astronaut theorists believe the neighbors are building survival complexes, seven stories deep. Or maybe the neighborhood is a CIA front. Except for my house, of course: we're a front for the city garbage inspectors.

Meanwhile back at the airport

"I'm going to need to see your porn, please," said the customs agent at the airport. 

Excuse me?

"I need to look at the porn on your laptop."

Why would you possibly want to look at my porn? How do you know I have any?

"Sir, I'm specially trained to detect porn and see if it's the kind of porn which violates our laws."

How do you know I have any porn that violates your laws?

"I don't. That's why I have to review all of it. No telling where you might hide it.  Please sit over there. A few colleagues will assist me to make this process faster. I'll be back in a few hours."

• Phew.. it's been a long but productive day: I finally got Word 2016 to open in draft view. I'm beat.

There was a party the other day.

No one was entirely sure why.

You're about to ask yourself what a party has to do with a bathroom door. 

Go ahead.

I needed a new bathroom door. I was incapable of putting it up because I had never done it before and it was fairly complex. The solution, as always, was to call Bob. Bob is my buddy of many years. Bob is to construction as lefty is to computers. Bob stopped by, assessed the situation, and had it hung in short order. Wife was impressed. For about 15 minutes. Bob put the door on backwards. Bob are a perfesshunul.

Months later, I had to install an air conditioner shelf brackety thing. I was terrified of it requiring drills and other tools I knew the names of but did not have. Sure enough, Bob was kind enough to stop by on his day off. He looked at the instructions and shook his head... he wasn't understanding. Since we were both standing there in Man Pose (arms crossed, looking pensive), the Man Code stated I had to look at it. I too shook my head and sent Bob home. We just weren't getting it.

Wife, who called Bob, was less than happy that the professional (and I) failed to have the thing installed. When I protested stupidity, she handed me the device exactly as it was supposed to be attached.  Boy, I really WAS stupid. I didn't have the heart to call Bob. But at least I finished with the Man Code: I told her if she's so smart, SHE could install it.

Bob's wife threw a party.

She has different ways of going about things.

When I say threw a party, I mean something closer to arranged a party. She made sure to delegate absolutely everything but being the hostess. When the day came, everybody had brought something, except Mrs. Bob. After all, it was her party. Then everybody arranged the food over tables, tents, and inside. Mrs Bob stayed inside because it was 90 outside. She certainly looked summery, in her very short skirt, which let most of it all hang out. And when I say it, I mean several great handfuls of cottage cheese and some used telephone poles. 

After we left, I hear Mrs. Bob was already planning her next party. Why? Because everyone else cleaned up for her. 

• I hate rain. I hate clouds. I picked the wrong state in which to live. We've had a pretty bad spell lately. Today we're aware of the sun, but the clouds are doing their best to obscure it, like Michael Moore in front of Gwyneth Paltrow. Yet I feel myself longing for rain. WHAT? Because if it doesn't rain in the next hour, I have to mow.
• Well, I had no choice. We went to a battery-powered mower, which is very light and very quiet. This is the problem: everyone else's mower is loud and bothers the hell out of me. I can't even reciprocate. Maybe I'll contact the manufacturer and find out if there's a VOOM retrofit. They have to put them on electric cars, so people will know they're coming.

Inventions, Stats, and Outright Lies

Speaking of anniversaries, ThermionicEmissions is coming up on a big one: at the end of this month, it will be a year and a half since the last comment on the blog.  Sure, lefty, bitch at the people who are brave and nice enough to read the blog in the first place.

• Speaking of Portugal, we had a mad rush last week from Canada. Heh heh. Get it? Rush from Canada? No, seriously, lots of Canadian visitors. And one from Portugal.
• Don't ask me - I just read the stats and look at the pretty colored charts.

The Great Ant Battle of 2018 continues. They show up in weird places... you'd think they'd go after food, which is what insects (and little brothers) do. Not these ants. These guys are after something else. The only problem is that no one has any idea what it is.

Sure, they'll show up where there's food... that's easy. But we find them in the bathrooms. I found them in my office. Nothing alive or dead is in my office, with the possible exception of me. No food, no ancient dog treats, no decaying former guests, and definitely NO dessicated local tax assessors. The only organic matter in that room is occasionally ME. I hope they're not after me, like most other things in the universe.

Maybe some nefarious entity has spliced in some African Killer Bee DNA, rendering the ants nasty, with a taste for blood. A theory about assassination ants is no more strange than any other theory (especially for this blog). 

Somebody told the wife that where there's one ant, there's a ton of ants you can't see. She takes this to heart, so when she sees one, she puts on her Sherlock Holmes hat, with 2 brims, so you can't tell whether she's coming or going, and does some deteckin' work, hunting down the little $&@^ers. One day they appeared to be coming from the dishwasher. She actually spent a while tracing them back. It's a good thing the cabinets are firmly attached to the walls or I'd be even more afraid to go in the kitchen. Then she pulls out the Big Guns... an industrial size yellow gallon container of Everything Killer, with an actual pump and spray gun. It's extremely effective for killing ants. It's also extremely effective at stinking, so you need to plan your strategy carefully. Except for last night, when she found about two hundred of them, having a party in the bedroom. I don't know about you, but if I'm not having a party in the bedroom, no one else is either. She fired, ridding the place of live ants. Did I mention this was the bedroom? In which we sleep? Which was now unfit for human habitation... even Monsanto wouldn't come within a mile of the house. They know why too.

The other gun is some sort of natural ant killer which is harmless to humans, dogs, and sometimes ants. I kid - it works about as well as the yellow gallon, and somehow manages to smell almost as bad. How do natural ingredients manage to smell like chemicals? Maybe the manufacturer added a chemical scent so the customers would think it was working. And now I'm finding a few on my desk. And on my left leg only. Even natural spray isn't all that good for computers and stuff, so it can't be deployed. In some cases it would be nice to say the only interesting thing in the room is me, but not this time.

The prevailing theory is the ungodly amount of rain we've had lately. It's the prevailing theory because no one brought up another theory.  I really need to get some picture of her kills. There was the Battle of the Drying Rack, where thousands died.  The Battle of the Upstairs Bathroom, where bodies flew far and wide. The Battle of the Kitchen Molding, where hundreds were marching, on the way to some top secret target. The aforementioned Battle of the Bedroom, where the casualties were beyond counting. The most senseless slaughter happened during the Battle of the Downstairs Bathroom Molding on the Outside of the Bathroom. I may not be an ant (I'm not...really) but I can't figure out what's so wonderful about molding. You know what they say: it's not the destination, it's the journey.

The latest news involves the Battle of the Office. A favorite internet suggestion was to interrupt their reproduction, as opposed to killing them outright.  We bought a rather large box of this stuff, hoping for some relief. How in the known universe does one apply 5,000 ant condoms?

So we returned that box (Amazon is really good with returns) and went to Plan B; the Morning Before Pill. A trap is set, with micro doses of Ambien. The ants eat it, and immediately become confused, then head off to dreamland. At some point they wake up, whether they know it or not, and become so disoriented, all six legs start moving in different directions. If they manage to find their pad, they go in and stumble about for a while, eventually passing out in their little ant beds. Or on the floor. When they finally arise, the Ambien has rendered them sterile so no more ants. The moral of the story is to stay away from Ambien, lest you become confused and sterile.

• How to stop your smart tv from tracking you. This goes over how to stop your information from leaking, featuring instructions covering several brands.

Work

So I'm enjoying the hell out of my new job, which is exactly like my old job, only with a different name on the checks.  This is a job in which a brain comes in handy. Rarely is any day like any other. But no matter how hard or different the job is, nothing comes close to the overwhelm and sheer terror of benefits selections. There are more health insurances than I've ever seen. With all sorts of bizarre names, having nothing to do with anything identifiable. I made a point of asking if they cover pets, hoping that I'd be employed after asking. No, they do not. How many times have you had to decide between a lot of insurers? It took four days to get up the steam to start looking at them. Wife asked me why I was shaking my head. Apparently I do that when I'm disgusted. Don't ask me - I can't see me when I'm doing it. If you have a shortcut to making this less of a herculean task, please share it with us. Otherwise you have to go through each insurance and figure out what they cover. There's a compare button online, that lets you compare up to three insurers. Three. You still have to figure out if they will cover your specific needs. After what felt like four weeks, but was in fact three weeks, I made a selection. I should have done this weeks ago. I closed my eyes and pointed to a spot on the screen, choosing the insurance under my index finger. Statistically this produces better results than making huge spreadsheets, especially when you can't remember all the shortcuts and commands for spreadsheets. Of course I'm kidding.. I asked my coworker what he has and selected that. 

I have a great dental plan. In fact I've had a great dental plan at the last three jobs, but don't use it because I'm terrified to go there. Since I'm telling on myself, I might as well admit I don't go to the doctor either. I'm not terrified of the doctor, so I have no idea why I don't go. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with the serious lack of very attractive medical assistants, no sir. I can even let them take blood without passing out (me, hopefully not them). Maybe I'm just ridiculously healthy and my body knows it, keeping me from wasting time (and that nice doctor with the gloved finger...at least he says he's a doctor). Ok, ok, I'll go this year; I promise. I've had the same blood slip for five years. I should ask for a new one...the labs probably stopped doing some of those tests. And I ain't letting no one near my cervix until I find out what a cervix is.

Please don't make me look at the life insurance or whatever the hell those other forms are for. Maybe I'll ask Benefits to pick them for me and buy the department some pizza.

It's a nice place to work, provided you don't have any computer problems. I've been in computers for all of my life, so I'm somewhat familiar with them. They're large purple things, the size of a trailer park. Very Smart People set up these computers so the users can't mess with them. This scheme has saved the company millions in User Assisted Screwups and viruses. Unfortunately, anything that goes wrong requires someone with the correct permissions to assist you. The only people with the correct permissions are the good people at the service desk. But you have to put in a service ticket first. The service desk has four hours to contact you. They forgot to put the 2 in front of the 4. Every time something breaks, we do the Service Dance. I put in a service ticket, then email, call, and text them. They always get back to me within 72 hours. Right about 72 hours every time, during which I am working with a broken or seriously disabled computer. I asked my boss about this one day. He didn't seem at all surprised about this. Apparently it's institutional. Not getting my work done is also institutional, judging from some of my coworkers. I'm old school - I don't get this. Plus I used to do this work.

I don't want to get down on the department; I had enough of that when I did it. The techs are all nice and helpful. This points to Manglement. Perhaps gross understaffing. I really don't care - I just want my friggin computer fixed (jackass). After waiting 72 hours, they managed to fix it. For damn near an hour. I called, phoned, and texted them to let them know. Expecting another 72 hours, they pleasantly surprised me by only making me wait 24 hours. This also failed to fix the problem. They're going to try again tomorrow. Or at least that's what they told me.  Maybe it's their fault after all... they have this 24/7 party/orgy happening, which they leave every 6 hours to take a call and promise something they have no intention of delivering. Sure - we'll get with you first thing in the morning and get you all fixed up. Yesterday, first thing in the morning was 1pm. The thing that upsets me most is not getting invited to their parties.

• We received another card from the vet. A donation has been made In Marshall's name to the University of Pennsylvania's Animal Hospital and teaching facility; number one in the area.
• his spirit, personality, and fight touched a lot of people.

We're on a list for another rescue dog, because we didn't learn the first time. Or the second time. Or even the third time. The house is so empty. If we don't do something now, this blog truly will document my journey into madness, as joked about earlier.

Way way back, before any of us were born, cocker spaniels split off into American cockers and English cockers. Americans are the smallest sporting breed, at up to 28 lbs or so. They have short snouts and a merry temperament. English cockers are larger, taller, and more broad, with a longer snout and the same merry temperament. We're on the list for an English cocker. I had one when I was a little terror. Looked almost exactly like this guy:

English cocker in "blue roan"

young American cocker in black

Airport Facts

A fascinating program I saw a bit of was on people moving in airports. Apparently someone sat in airports and observed people. On coming across people walking at them, Asians move to the right and Europeans move to the left. If they're coming at each other, they crash.

They also went into signage. The fellow in charge of signs said "Less is more".
From my two years of high school math:

If less=more then more=less
More air over the plane wing causes less pressure = lift
Plane lift = flying
Flying = cramped seating with screaming infants and a little bastard kicking the back of your seat
Cramped seating = a bad experience, possibly involving cramps
A bad experience = a worse experience picking up your baggage
Difficulty picking up your bags = hostility to airport personnel
Therefore: less=more creates airport personnel fatalities, so keep the food and souvenirs at affordable prices.


The average human hands carry 100 species of bacteria, requiring a war against disease outbreaks.

The runway's biggest problem is birds, which can cause fatal outcomes if they get sucked into the plane's engines, not to mention what the bird feels when shredded by a humongous Rolls Royce airplane engine.  Remember Sully, the pilot who landed his plane in the Hudson River? He had no engines because of bird strikes. My solution: use imprisoned gang members to shoot at them. It's a win-win and a much better shot (sorry) at criminal rehabilitation. It would also be less expensive than designing a laser-guided bird annihilator, assuming the military doesn't already have one.

Or they could rid the place of mice, which attract foxes and birds, which hunt the little $&#ers.

• As if the food weren't enough to keep you away, fast food restaurants are using facial recognition 'to remember how you like your burger'. It's almost everywhere, even in Walmart's parking lots. Mall stores are also using surveillance techniques, whether they're detecting your phone or your face combined with your purchase.
• The main need for remembering who you are is so the restaurant can remember how to screw up your order uniformly.
• Facial recognition software isn't all that accurate, especially on black people. So if you go anywhere with this software, make sure you identify as black.

A Witty Title

Today's network breach is Sonic, the alleged restaurant. Payment card information was stolen - rather a lot of it. If you go to Sonic and pay with a card, you should examine account activity immediately. I think this is revenge for some of the worst television commercials in the known universe.

Second on the hit parade is Amazon's Whole Foods, which is investigating their Point of Sale systems, which were hacked. Pay cash.

• What does that huge online corporation know about you? The author asked Tinder for her information. She got 800 pages back, which surprised her. I know we don't use Tinder (snicker) but replace Tinder with Faceyspaces, Whatsapp, Instagram, Snapchat, etc. and think about what you may find.

Today's Fast Fact: even Bill Gates does not use a Windows phone.

• Guitar fans: check out the Rig Rundown of Metallica's current tour

A GOP senate nominee believes that homosexuality should be illegal. This is obviously another constitutional scholar. We remain thankful he's not a nominee for judge.

• This week's best headline (so far): Homeowner found naked burglar dangling from ceiling. He was surprised by police while hiding in the attic. No reason for his lack of clothing but can you imagine laying on insulation naked? The emergency room would spend six hours removing the fibers from your genitals alone.

The Maryland Zoo's polar bear could be the first to give birth by artificial insemination...

Hey Bob - what do you do?

I work at a for-profit that works inside a governmental non-profit putting together knock knacks to sell to people who stop by during the week.

John - what do you do?

Inseminate bears.

• A woman was pulled off a Southwest plane after claiming her serious allergies required removal of a helper dog and one other on the plane. The woman was unable to provide proof of her allergy. When told to get off, she refused. Staff and the police tried politely to reason with her. Failing that, she was forcibly removed. As the plane wasn't going to leave until this was settled, she's lucky the other passengers didn't throw her off.
• Entitlement lessons - $100 per session. Why so much? Because I'm entitled to it.

RIP Hugh Hefner. We all own the man a debt of gratitude. And a couple cases of tissues. He will be buried in a large, stiff sock.

• A wanted subject from the Dark Web was just apprehended. On the way to a beard contest. Sorry, this is funny in so many ways.

A woman pulled over for erratic driving was found to be drunk, with three syringes and $20 in her vagina. Potentially a very prickly situation, although I wonder why she needed to hide currency there. Unless she normally does, which would be cumbersome in checkout lines.

• If you were in an airport Thursday, odds are the entire computer system was down. Gatwick, Washington DC, Paris Charles De Gaulle, Frankfurt, Sydney, DC, South Africa, and Lufthansa were among the affected. Gatwick said there had been "no delays." A spokesman for Lufthansa said the Amadeus Altea software - used by multiple airlines - was affected. 
• The cause of the problem was unclear.
• What in the universe is wrong with airline software/hardware these days? Are they connected by bag phones? Rest assured planes are safe and the backup systems have backup systems. The systems on the ground seem to be where it's hit or miss.
• If this kind of thing happened at my job repeatedly, I wouldn't have a job. You either.

Latest news in the Injured Rock Star Department: Aerosmith's Steven Tyler collapsed after a show in South America. According to a source close to the band, it was a seizure. Still up in the air is Deep Purple's Glenn Hughes, with no cause for his collapse. Take care, guys, we've lost more than enough lately.

• Watch your emails carefully. More carefully. Some of the dangerous emails have gotten more dangerous. Emails from UPS, Fedex, and sometimes even your own coworkers! My friend received a message from her coworker in accounting and almost clicked on the link. It looked perfectly legit, until she hovered over the link and realized it didn't go where it said it did. This is how the Bad Guys<tm> get into your network to steal data or virus the system. If you have any doubt at all, please ask someone. You don't want to be that person.

The king of Saudi Arabia has ruled, moving them 3 days out of the stone age, that women may drive. But only if a man says so, or else she'll have to be dragged out, stoned, then beheaded. Saudi women are celebrating, very quietly, lest they be dragged out, stoned, then beheaded. Somebody had to alert the king that you have to hang them before you behead them. Meanwhile, in the United States, women (and their men, who do what they're told) are celebrating this great step for Saudi Arabia. Still no word on being dragged out, stoned, then beheaded.

MARSHALL UPDATE: After the first chemptherapy treatment, we were told that side effects, if any, would show up two to three days after. He slept the next day and has been fine! My mom shows up every day and does energy work with him. She says he is really strong and getting stronger. For his part, he loves the attention.

What the Hell Just Happened?

It's a recent Saturday, on which I've scheduled my exam for the Security+ certificate. For those of you who don't know, Security+ is a certification that one knows Important Stuff<tm> in the IT security realm. It mostly certifies that you test well.  Employers like certifications but I have something better; years of IT experience, which counts for something.  In addition to certifications, I don't have a college degree (because I couldn't pass the drinking exams to get into college).

If you've never tried to get a certification before, it's a very interesting (read: tedious) process. First you have to figure out who gives the test. Then at what location. Then if you have the proper identification (drivers license, something else with your signature and the proper arrangement of blood vessels in your retina).  All of this pales in comparison with Paying for It.  Yes, folks, this cert was going to cost me three hundred dollars, pass or fail.  And this is the cheap cert.

In addition to the rigamarole surrounding signing up, you have an actual Code of Conduct, which largely states that you'll show up, not blow raspberries at other test-takers or make fart noises with your underarm.  Oh yeah, you have to show up at least fifteen minutes early for the test.

For locations, I had the choice of a Korean church and an airport.  Hmmm.... this was going to be tough.  Let's see, a church (I don't go into churches because I always set off the Anti-Christ Detector) or an airport (the classic scenario of the guy with A.D.D. trying to take a test at an airport with planes taking off and landing).  Perhaps because I like a challenge, I chose the airport.  Have I mentioned that I haven't taken a test since.... well... let's call it the eighties.

Stay with me here.... it was my wife's birthday so I told her I'd be getting the certification as a small present.  Off we went, way too early, to the airport.  It was a small airport, which I suppose was a good thing and we watched a few planes land and take off.  It was kind of a nice morning, watching planes. One landed with the insignia of another country on it.  Turns out it belonged to a doctor, who had two.

So it was getting kind of late and the doors were locked.  Another poor slob showed up and we waited together for our test.  Our fifteen minute window came and went.  Then our test time came and went.  We stared quizzically at each other.

Unfortunately,  the test-giver apparently did not have to show up fifteen minutes early.  Or at all.  We didn't entirely know what to do so we did what came naturally; we sat there.  It quickly became an emergency, as my wife was out of coffee (do not pass Dunkin Donuts coffee, do not collect $200).

All of the sudden, we heard a thundering sound.  Looking toward the airfield, we saw nothing.  Then we turned to the parking lot and a humongous vehicle approached, with all the thunder of a 747, and squealed mightily into a parking spot.  If this was Test Guy, he sure knew how to make an entrance. He very slowly got out of the leviathan and it became obvious he had a small problem with one of his legs. I loved that on the back of the truck was a bumper sticker that said, "Don't you feel silly about your Obama sticker now?"

And he was Test Guy.

He let us in, apologized, then started explaining why he was late, what kind of trouble he was having with his leg, which vertebrae were out in his back, how long he has suffered, how he got that way and that one nostril was physically larger than the other.  Not to mention how much of a dick his boss was.

I know this was going to be an interesting test experience.

We all gave up our first-born and blood vessels and marched quietly into the test area.  The test area was replete with some magnificent wood paneling, reminiscent of the 1970's.  In fact, the entire shack looked like my parents' house in 1970.  But it had cable.

There were about six test stations.  The first thing I noticed, superior Security Dood that I am, was that the computers were all running Windows XP.  I decided the better of explaining why this was not a good idea and Test Guy finished logging in.  The other guy taking a test was taking a financial test, which prompted a question from Test Guy about what we should do when the economic system falls in on itself.  The answer, of course, was guns and precious metals (I knew that, securing myself a friend for life).  Unfortunately, finance test-taker just stood there, dumbfounded.

So the test started and informed me I had some ridiculously large amount of time to complete it.  I allowed myself a virtual sneer, as I blew through all of my practice tests in minutes.  In fact, I took practice tests until my eyeballs fell out and threatened to phone the Eyeball Abuse Agency.  There was no way I was not going to pass that test.

Off I went to the first question.  Oddly enough, it was a strange question, both in subject matter and in the fact that I had to 'wire' and complete a wireless system for maximum security.  Also oddly was the fact that neither of these appeared in my study materials.  It was all multiple-choice.

The second question surprised me by also being something that didn't appear in my studies.  It was about this time that I started getting nervous.  Perhaps, I thought, it was just these two questions and I could blast through the other ones quickly.

Nope.

Nervous was the order of the day.  As it turned out, very few, if any of the questions were in my study materials.  It appeared as if they had given me the wrong test (but I was hesitant to argue with Test Guy) and I figured I would see the test through and deal with the results later.

My many years in IT served me well, as there were things on the test of which I've never heard, as well as things I could answer.

I finished nervously but firm.  The test asked me if I wanted to review any of my answers.  Hell no - if I didn't have any idea the first time, what would be the point of proving that I didn't know it a second time?

I have to admit how difficult it was not to make fart noises with my underarms on the way out of the test area.  I may be an experienced IT guy but we're all still children when it comes to farts.

Test guy was very difficult to find.  I looked everywhere, including behind the paneling, yet he was not there.  Spotting an open door, I launched myself through it.  I wound up in a plane hangar and there was Test Guy.   In an accurate metaphor for the entire experience, he was smoking a cigarette under the NO SMOKING sign whilst examining a fire extinguisher for compliance.  I desperately wanted to take a picture but didn't think it was a good time.

I told him that the stuff on the test was not the stuff I studied.  He laughed and told me that nine out of ten test-takers said the same thing to him.

Alrighty then.

Test Guy performed whatever magic necessary to print out forms, make some copies, then complain about the government.  I watched the ancient printer eat up some paper and my heart sank.  Finally he gave me my results.  I wished him the best of health and left.

Wife was sitting there, watching planes and smoking like a chimney.  I was amazed that the airport didn't ask her to stop smoking, as she was violating local pollution ordinances. I walked out with lowered head and slow gait.  She looked concerned.  She asked.  I didn't meet her gaze but handed her the results.

Passing was 750 out of 900.  I got an 810.  I can now refer to myself as leftystrat, Sec+. I couldn't believe it and was numb.  IT Dood still has it after all these years!  Wife screamed and admitted she thought I blew it when she saw me.

I am such a total bastard.


Speaking of people who aren't bastards, Test Guy went outside for a ciggie and started talking to my wife about pain.  Wife gave him her Complete Course on pain control and some valuable tips.  I felt great that she reached out to him and hopefully he took some of it home with him.  It was a good day all around.

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Since it was the wife's birthday, I had a short (and cheap) ride planned.  She knew not where; I just gave her directions.

Halfway there, I got a call from a coworker.  There was a serious problem with one of the systems and it needed to be shut down.  Many calls and emails later, I was no longer needed (thankfully).  I was not relishing having to work on my wife's birthday, although I would have.  We work 24/7/365 on our team. Gotta keep the railways moving.

As we got closer, I had to find ways to block signs advertising our destination.  This consisted of physicallly putting myself between her (she drove) and the signs, as well as distracting her with conversation.  Somehow I succeded.

As we pulled off at the exit and came around the corner, there was much screaming.  There on the left was a Waffle House.

Before you laugh hysterically at me and call me names (other than the normal ones), I beg your indulgence.  We tend to hit a hamfest (electronics flea market for radio) in Maryland a few times per year.  On the way down are three Waffle Houses.  In Philthydelphia, there are no Waffle Houses.  We discovered Waffle House on a trip to Arizona, so it has sentimental value.  It takes about three hours to make it to Waffle House in Maryland.

I went online and discovered a Waffle House about ninety minutes away, which is where I took her.  She was incredibly impressed at my efforts at personalizing her gift. The internal children were screaming WAFFLE HOUSE, WAFFLE HOUSE and everyone was excited.  They love to watch the hustle and bustle of Waffle House operations.

Waffle House has some famous hash browns that you can order with several toppings.  I order ham, onions and cheese but Waffle House has a different designation for this, along the lines of slashed, hashed and mashed (which, coincidentally, is how I like my women).

As things go in large chains, the food was absolutely predictable, whether or not you like it.

Our waitress was a really nice older lady.  The folks sitting next to us, however, were from New Yawk and just a little weird, in that old, retired person way.  Mrs. New Yawk had some meds to take, which started the couple and the waitress talking about people in their families who had died recently from heart attacks.

You're probably wondering how it is that I come upon this Neat Shit every time I leave the house. I can't even begin to explain it to you, largely as I don't understand it myself.  Let it just be my pain and your joy.

Mrs. Yawk was going on about how her relative died at fawty, bless him.  Waitress talked about her uncle, who died at sixty-six; way too young, bless him.  Husband complained that wife spent all of the money, as one would expect.

At this point I can't decide whether to show them my pre-digested breakfast or just laugh.  I decided on the latter, with special consideration as to how I was going to describe it on the blog.  These are the things I do for you, loyal readers.

Eventually the waitress got the Yawkers out of their seats and lavished us with her attention.  As it turned out, there wasn't a single word spoken about death, heart attacks or industrial food.  She was polite, gracious and one of the best waitresses we've ever had.  We tipped generously, as anyone should for this level of service.

People are different outside of Philthydelphia.  On the way out, after our gourmet meal, we noticed a lady starting at us.  Getting into the car, she ran after us and asked if the wife lost a ring.  She figured it was the wife, as the ring was Indian and the wife has rather a large collection of it on her person at all times (she's a lot of fun at airport checkpoints).  I was dumbfounded.

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So it was a beautiful Saturday.  And my timing has to be applauded: when I went to work on Monday, I got laid off.