Ringo, I love you.

I attended the Ringo Starr show last night with the Rat Bastard G and we had a great time. The show was fun; this year's line-up can still kick some ass on both Ringo's music and some of their own. (For those who are unaware, Ringo picks up various musicians each year and then forms his All-Starr band and tours.) This years line-up include both Edgar Winter and Rick Derringer who each had their own bands in the 70's. Neither has slowed down, though Rick seems to have added about 40 pounds since he first appeared in that silver jumpsuit he wore on the cover of his one album. The Rat Bastard is actually a huge Derringer fan and actually wore a replica jumpsuit to the show. He kind of looked like a guy trying to smuggle some puppies on to an airplane inside a Reynolds Wrap foil suit. I did endure some strange looks for attending along side thiso guy, but, put it aside and enjoyed the show anyways.

As noted before, I am 51 years old. The Rat Bastard is 53. We are most definitely, certifiably, middle aged. We were, however, definitely in the younger half of the folks in the crowd. I guess some people just will never let go of the Beatles. And yes, there were a couple of Beatles songs in the set, but, it wasn't the Beatles playing it. It was another group.

The show went off with only one minor hitch that, of course, had a slight FTI bent associated to it. The crowd was highly enthusiastic and vocal in their support of Starr and the band. After one of the numbers, I noted that a commotion where the security guys hustled a concertgoer out of the exhibition hall and a couple of roadies were scrambling around up on stage with rubber gloves and flashlights. It turns out that Gummo, the Balloon Boy, being the huge Ringo fan that he is, tossed his tighty whities up on stage ala what the women used to do with Tom Jones in the 60's. Later, Gummo told the investigating vice detectives he just got "caught up in the moment" and there was no other meaning intended. Obviously, the guy is a bit half-cocked to begin with, but, apparently they figured he wasn't much of a worry to anyone's safety, so, they cut him loose.

All in all, I had a good time. The thought of Gummo going commando is a bit disconcerting, but, on the other hand, I have to look on the bright side: he isn't using Depends.

Jukebox: I would be surprised, too

No, No, No, No, I don't ________ no more

I received word yesterday that Gummo, The Balloon Boy, is also slated to be a part of the Lost Reunion Tour weekend commencing in less than 36 hours. As a result, I will be with 3 of the Misfits at one time. This is definitely not how I had planned to spend a relaxing weekend.

The Lost Reunion Tour weekend is built around the premise of spending time with a friend of over 30 years where we can get together, socialize (Translation: drink without any spousal supervision), catch a show of Ringo Starr and his All Starr Band, and do "guy stuff". I thought I had all of the loose ends tied up and it would be a fun-filled weekend escape for me. Turns out though, that Gummo, the Rat Bastard G, and The Green Comic are all slated to attend the same show. The 3 Whackos have taken to attend the show as die hard fans. Intending to promote their allegiance and enthusiasm, the plan was to wear matching tee shirts and proclaim themselves as "Groupies". Being the deep thinkers these 3 are, somehow, the message was mistranslated to the shirt maker and they each now have a shirt with the word "Guppy" on the back.

Alas, as the tickets have been bought and the arrangements have been made, I do plan to follow through and soldier on through the weekend to the best of my abilities. I hope Ringo does as well.

Can I count on your support?

Mrs. Kfred and I were invited to a grass roots political forum last night. Neither of us are very political as I have recounted my political leaning here previously. (For the record, I don't trust either side. I think they all lie. ) Regardless, it was something I had never participated in and was curious to experience it.

We went to some friend's house to meet a young candidate whom is running for Congress. Our district has recently come into national focus since our Democratic Congressman is retiring and the district is very possible to flip to Republican. This young woman spoke for about 20 minutes detailing here various positions, thoughts, and insights on a number of issues. I came away impressed and hopeful for our country's future.

Identifying myself as the Executive Director of FTI, this young candidate asked me what issues were important to me. I obviously mentioned my interest in mental health funding as we here at FTI provide a valuable service to the community with no direct federal funding. She hadn't heard of FTI, but after I explained the at-risk population we currently serve, she immediately pledged to study the issue more intently and said I should be commended for helping my fellow citizens in such an unselfish manner.

Attending the meeting last night actually served 2 purposes: 1) I got involved with politics on a local level; and 2) I was able to re-calibrate the Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe. The mainstay machine here at FTI has been acting up lately and replacement parts are increasingly hard to locate. I thought it was going to require a complete overhaul, but had no way to test it to begin. Running some of these political statements and testing for accuracy, though, seemed to do the trick and all is well with the mechanical version of sodium pentathol.

I am thinking of forming my own special interest group and get as much Federal "pork" for us here at FTI as I possibly can. After all, our efforts would certainly not be considered wasteful. Would they?

Really, I MEANT to do that

Occasionally being accused of being a bit too "mean" and "hard-hearted" while describing the status and plight of the Misfits, I submit this incident as proof of the idiocy of which I am surrounded.

Yesterday, I described the upcoming FTI Roadshow Tours and their various details. I pointed out that the Green Comic had worked in some lame joke into his routine about me and called it pathetic. Green, in his rush to further attempt to insult me initially signed into the comment section under his real name (Yes, "The Green Comic" is actually a stage name) and further publicly insulted me. (I certainly don't mind the give and take with our 2 faithful readers and the occasional stray that visits this site, but for God's sake their retorts must be sensible!) Recognizing that compassion and fairness were due the little mental dwarf, I contacted Green, explained his error, retracted his comment, and offered to let him try to sign in again under his stage name and comment as long as it was appropriate. Green agreed and I thought the matter was over.

The nitwit, instead, commented on a totally unrelated post that now confirms for even the most casual reader that deep thinking and basic comprehension are not requirements of readership at this site.

Case Closed.

The real action is out in the field

I have begun the FTI Roadshow Tour. Over the weekend it was dinner with Dickie and Mrs. the Peap. Later, over the upcoming weekend, it's the Lost Reunion tour with the Rat Bastard G and The Green Comic. The purpose of the Roadshows is to get out and see the Misfits in their normal surroundings and ascertain whether they are capable of advancing and leaving our care. Common sense would tell you probably not; actual observation to date has confirmed no way in Hell.

Dickie the Peap was on his best behavior this past Saturday as he tried to constantly butter me up. "Oh, here. Let me get you a cocktail. I bought your favorite brand. I hope you like it". "Say, can I get you anything else?" "Here take this home with you, we won't drink it". On the surface, these types of offers and comments are very generous and heartfelt. However, analysis of body language and behaviors indicated a person highly troubled with the concept of giving anything away without some type of reciprocal trade of a value equal to no less than two times or higher in return. Dickie's obvious physical discomfort resulting from these types of offers were similar to a those of a 5 year old being admonished to not pee in the pool after having just drunk a gallon of Kool-aid. He just couldn't hold it. I don't think he is ready to be on his own.

The Rat Bastard G has slated a full weekend of activities and, I suspect, a probable 2 pm Matinee show of the Green Comic on one of the weekend days. They, too, will be observed for any types of any physical discomfort as I perform some situational stress tests to see if they are capable of independent functioning. The Green Comic is already on my short list after having developed one of these 'zingers' into his routine: Q: WHAT HAS DARK HAIR, SIX LEGS, AND RUNS THROUGH KFRED'S DREAMS? A: THE JONAS BROTHERS. Weak at best and more aptly described as pathetic. The Rat Bastard is under watch because, well, he is the Rat Bastard. Regardless, both of these two Misfits are more than likely due back for more supervision.

I always get a sense of satisfaction after completing these small journeys; the sense of satisfaction and gratitude I feel is immense. For accuracy's sake, I point out that, unfortunately, this satisfaction does not come from within, but rather the countless notes of gratitude I receive in the mail from local mental healthcare professionals. Their budgets can only service so many and our guys just add to the problem.

It's Green Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have a "green" policy here at FTI to do our part to minimize our impact on society the environment. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention harmful) if you leave now without getting what you came for. So we'll do our part: it's not new, it's just gently read. Take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past.

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Now, who can I blame?

I was dismayed and disappointed to find out some disturbing news. My able-bodied Assistant/Trustee, Giacommo, informed me yesterday that his supplemental employment position with a type of organization very similar to FTI has ended. As a result, he will be searching for new opportunities. My fear is that may require him to resign his part-time position here. I'm not sure that is best for all involved.

Giacommo came to us a little more than 4 months ago and has performed admirably in his short time with us. He has done everything unquestioningly I have asked of him and save for his one unauthorized absence (when I really could have used the little knucklehead), has been an exemplary employee. I have requested an emergency meeting of the cheap-assed Board of directors to determine if we may be able to offer him a full time status with us here at FTI, but, do question the viability of such a move. He appears to have a lot going for himself. I don't know why he would want to move backwards with such a move.

Regardless, I have a feeling we ultimately will be able to retain him on some type of fill-in basis. He is well spoken, personable, and is able to tie his own shoelaces independently. He truly is one of our own we can point to as an FTI success story. Lord knows, we don't have many of those.

Jukebox: A benefit of Summer

Go ahead. Get it out.

During yesterday's weekly group sessions with the mental health caseworker, an exercise was assigned to the Misfits. Each was instructed to write an open letter to whomever they chose and explain why they had become the person they are. I was told this was a form of therapy intended to help each of the little Whackjob's address their individual problems in concrete terms. The thinking went that once it was on paper, it could be used as a self-identified document from which to start some type of self-improvement.

In what I have become ever-so-accustomed to, here is a none to surprising partial list of the Misfit's identified recipients and a selected excerpt of their letter:

Dickie the Peap to his first lemonade stand customer: ......."and when you said, "No kid. $5 is too much for a glass. Will you take a dime?", I knew that everything in life could be chiseled down. Thank you.

The Green Comic to a member of one of his early audiences: ........but when I replied,"What do you mean I'm a no talent hack and you've heard that one before? Do you know how hard it is to find this shit?" , I knew I had been found out.

The Campus Eunuch to one of his students........."and when you came to my office and told me you were willing to do anything to get an A and then asked me what I would like you to do, I suggested "study". What's wrong with that?"

Obviously, this caseworker has a long career of steady employment and job security in front of them.

This economy is affecting us all

The current economic situation has forced us here at FTI to consider a concept I would have never previously considered. I am both troubled and, yet, open to the fact that some changes may have to be made if we are to successfully survive these trying times. Yes, I am talking about outsourcing.

I don't want to get bogged down in the arguments of shipping good jobs overseas that able- bodied Americans are willing to perform or moving operations in order to avoid taxes. It's true that we require tasks most Americans do not want to perform. It's also true that no one in their right mind wants to be here and since, as it turns out, Irving the Peap, has been in charge of our financial destiny, we don't have to worry a whole hell of a lot about any type of tax obligation. Other than the fact that my able bodied assistant, Giacommo, volunteered (nay, badgered me) for his position, we can't get anyone to help us. The major tasks are left to me to get accomplished.

Replacing the idiot IT team (the most reviled department here at FTI) would be a logical place to start. A number of organizations have moved IT operations to lower cost environments with a highly educated workforce. As evidenced by our visitor log on the side of this page, there seems to be a fair amount of curiosity of this site in the countries of Pakistan and India. I don't think these folks want to throw away their reputation of the birthplace of higher evolved thinking in the Cradle of Civilization to start taking over posting pictures of the Misfits competing in a relay drooling contest. Likewise, replacing our facilities team with some folks not fully understanding the intricacies of freezing our wastewater treatment facility to become a short track speed skating during winter may not be in sync with our stated goal of encouraging sound thinking.

In the end, I will have to have further discussions concerning this issue with the cheap-assed Board of Directors. I have to be very specific in how I approach this topic. I am concerned they may actually think I am advocating of adding some Misfits from foreign lands. We don't need to add to the knobs we currently house.

Will you accept this gift?

I was watching "Intervention" last night. It's the reality TV show where they profile an addict or troubled person who lives a lifestyle that is not healthy and also features the family members and friends who basically enable them to live this life of self-destruction. The formula of the show is the same: the first 40 minutes show how the subject interacts with others and how they are harming themselves, the next 15 minutes set up the preparation and actual act of the Intervention with one of their trained specialists (who are mostly recovered alcoholics or addicts), and the final 5 minutes relay the results. Sometimes it works, many times it does not. It's reality.

I have been thinking about contacting the producers of the show and invite them to feature the FTI squad on their show. Rather than focusing on one individual, however, I propose that they have a mass intervention on behalf of the Misfits: Confront the Green Comic with his borrowed jokes as nothing more than reworked material from 30 year old Readers Digest magazines; demand the that the Campus Eunuch stop living the lifestyle as a playboy and accept the fact that he is Jared from Subway's body double; get Slateface into a meaningful putt-putt golf program that doesn't feature a water hazard. This is the tough love these guys need.

In the end, though, the message is always the same: the person affected has to want to get better. As for me? There is a program in place to help me. It's called Idiots-Anon.

It's Broke Sunday. Again.

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know. Having suffered through the revelation of our financial status, we are in no condition to think of anything else at the moment.

We're glad you're here, though. We have a "green" policy here at FTI to do our part to minimize our impact on society the environment. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention harmful) if you leave now without getting what you came for. So we'll do our part: it's not new, it's just gently read. Take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past.

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Good boy. Here's a banana

A troubling event has shaken the faith of us here at FTI to our core.

Our 2 faithful readers will note that we have repeatedly chronicled the financial habits and traits of one of our own, Dickie the Peap. Relying on his financial wisdom and looking to him as the bedrock and model of fiscal frugality, we have always thought that our financial future would at least be somewhat secure. We have been stunned to find out that his stock picking prowess was nothing more than smoke and mirrors as evidenced by the accompanying chart displayed below.



The eagle eyed reader will note the precipitous drop in one day of nearly half the value of one of the core holdings of the Peap Foundation after it was discovered that the company in question is nothing more than a couple of guys running a back-room boiler plate operation somewhere in Eastern Europe. To top it off, we have learned that Dickie did not actually research this firm directly himself, but rather, relied on his pet chimp, Irving the Peap, to select this firm via one of the oldest known stock picking methods known to investors-throwing a dart at a board.

As a result of this revelation, we are immediately severing all ties with Dickie the Peap in regard to Institute financial advising. Instead, our meager resources are now going to be entrusted entirely to The Amazing Kreskin. Now, that guy can predict the future.

Jukebox: It's Our first. No gifts, please.

The future really is bright

Allow me a little self indulging please...........

It is currently 5:50 am PDT. I am writing this having just dropped Kfred Jr 2 off at the airport for his flight back to Washington DC. As the Institute is located on the West Coast, direct flights eastbound at a reasonable time of day that aren't redeye flights are difficult to attain. I'm not complaining, it's just the way it is. Kfred Jr 2 was home for approximately one month during his final summer before heading back to finish his senior year at West Point. He is going to spend this next month serving as an aide to some officials at the Pentagon and hopefully gain some insight to how Southeast Asia foreign policy is conducted.

It's funny. I just dropped off a man whom is being trained to design, implement, and direct future issues of great importance to this country and it's citizens. This is the same man who, as a child of 5 years of age, in his zeal to always be a policeman, would constantly try to covertly slap on a set of plastic handcuffs to my wrists, take me into "custody", and then yell at me to "be quiet and sit down!" I would be notified that I was being charged with such offenses as watching TV, sitting in the wrong chair, etc. One time, when I mentioned that I was already sitting down after he had arrested me for reading the newspaper, a confused look of indecisiveness came over him. The problem solver that he was, however, realized that the command of "Ok, Stand Up!" would restore his 5 year old sense of superiority. When an authority figure tells you to do something, you do it.

When I hear of the young people of today not having a clue, not having any direction or sense of purpose, and not "getting it", I don't always agree. Every subset of the population has it's members who don't pull their weight. Am I a bit biased? Of course I am. But listening to the goals of the young men and women currently being trained to lead our country makes me realize one thing for sure. This country is going to be OK.

Truly. Shoot the messenger.

The idiot IT guys (the most reviled department here at FTI) have done it again.

In recognition of our upcoming first year's celebration of existence and as a surprise for yesterdays weekly staff meeting, they decided to have a custom made cake ordered and delivered. The cake was to have a picture of our entire team on the top as a means to celebrate our teamwork. The image of our entire team was on a thumb drive that one of the guys left with the baker to access when creating the cake. Unfortunately, the message was not properly explained to the baker and a misunderstanding of placing the image that was of the thumbdrive rather than an image on the thumbdrive was relayed to the baker.

Is it a wonder we have issues? These guys are idiots.

It only happens once a year

It was brought to my attention over the weekend by the FTI Archive department that our first year anniversary is rapidly approaching. The exact date cannot be actually determined as a formal launching was never enacted, however, based on our earliest post, July 15, 2010 appears to be our birth date. I'm not sure there wasn't a trial run or two before that date, but, for appearances sake, we will go with it. We will discuss more of this later in the week.

To celebrate our first birthday, our PR department suggested we have some type of event to note the occasion. I was thinking along the lines of another summer picnic with the Weirdo's and surrounding neighbors and maybe a small toast to mark the milestone with a keynote address by a local judicial official praising our efforts on humanitarian grounds. The PR guys, on the other hand, were thinking something a little more traditional. I inquired as to what type of event they were thinking and they suggested a mattress sale where all mattresses are on sale at or below cost, where everything must go, regardless of loss, cost, or value. I immediately rejected this idea as we don't have any mattresses. This was then immediately countered with the idea to hoist me into the sky for 72 hours in a crane and I wouldn't be allowed to come down until all of the Misfits had an adoptive parent. I 86'd this one, too, as I could well be in the air for a couple of weeks based on that type of criteria.

I have scheduled this as an agenda item for our weekly staff meeting later this morning and hope to have some type of meaningful discussion address this topic. Whatever the outcome, I can assure you of one thing: Make sure you bring your camera. You will never remember it all.

It's Green Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have a "green" policy here at FTI to do our part to minimize our impact on society the environment. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention harmful) if you leave now without getting what you came for. So we'll do our part: it's not new, it's just gently read. Take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past.

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Jukebox: On a train tonight

Hey, I am not your Father's Barney Fife

We are pretty self sufficient here at FTI and can usually attend to most of our needs. Our 24 hour 'round the clock staff include our previously chronicled landscaping, legal, medical, safety, and always hapless, most reviled, idiot level, IT teams. Most days, they can attend to the urgent incident at the moment, but once in a while, do fail. Like recently.

The compound has a circular drive that has had a persistent 4 to 4:30 early morning motoring visitor, whom turns off his lights, makes his circle, and then leaves again. Our security team has been unable to identify this visitor and I wanted some answers. I have not noticed any damage or anything out of the ordinary as a result of this, but, there have been some other incidents in the surrounding area that are suspicious and do not want the compound to be used as pit row. As a result, I, as Executive Director, worked out a tightly choreographed, precision timed, high tech plan to investigate a bit further: I donned a black sweatshirt and sat in a chair in the bushes with a high powered flashlight. Placing my garden cart in the drive to act as a barricade, I sat and waited. Sure enough, as earlier surveillance had shown, this guy comes down the street, turns off his lights, and begins to make the loop. He sees my cart in the drive and immediately stops. I then leap out of the bushes and have my flashlight beam directly in his face. "OK. Hey! Get that light out of my eyes! " I am 6 feet tall (even without my pointed Executive Director's ceremonial crown) and tried to use all of it as an intimidating presence. I demanded to know who he was and what he is was doing while I still had his face covered with my high intensity 6 volt flashlight. He again protests about the light, but, I am not backing down. I repeat my command to tell me who he is and what is he doing. It comes to be that my visitor is the newspaper delivery guy who is too lazy to make his last delivery across the street, stop, reverse up, and go back around. It's just easier to fling the last paper, make the loop around the compound, and take off again.

Normally, I am not an aggressive person. As mentioned earlier, there have been some incidents in the neighborhood that are a bit troubling . I don't take the newspaper, the compound is private property, and quite honestly, there is no need to use the drive as a convenient turnout. I know I scared the poor bastard shitless. Not because of my towering presence, stern voice, or intimidation tactics with the flashlight. It's because I asked him: Do you know this property is FTI? I know we will have no more problems.

Just describe yourself as an "Attendant"

I experienced a different kind of event yesterday. It doesn't happen often to me and certainly hasn't happened recently since assuming my Executive Director position here at the Institute.

I received a call from an acquaintance I hadn't heard from in nearly 5 years. This gentleman and myself used to be pretty good friends when we worked together before I became acquainted with FTI. We would room together while traveling out of town to conferences or meetings. I had stayed at his home a couple of times while attending trade shows in his town. Mrs. Kfred and I had met he and his wife while on vacation to specifically spend time with one another. Just people enjoying each others company and spending time together.

Then, we both moved on to other jobs; he into the banking world, and of course, me into the mental health caretaker arena. When I picked up the phone yesterday, he answered, "I haven't talked to you in a couple of years". I immediately recognized his voice and we took off from where we last spoke five years earlier. It was great.

As I noted in the opening, this type of event does not happen often. My status as Director, here at FTI, has actually discouraged a lot of my old acquaintances from further interaction with me. Hopefully, he doesn't ask too many questions inquiring into my true involvement around here. I would hate to scare him off again.

Speak up Sonny, I can't hear you

HURRY! YOUR ATTENTION IS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY!!

I received this warning on the outside of an envelope from the good people of Money Magazine's "Senior Services Division" over the weekend. I found it kind of amusing; not for the fact that it came from this division of the organization, rather, the offer involved.

I am 51 years old. Can't help it, can't change it, don't care. My age is my age. I have most of my teeth, my hair is beginning to gray around the temples, and am now just starting to rely on reading glasses. Other than that, I am in pretty good shape. Though Mrs. Kfred constantly reminds me to grow up whenever I make some sexually based comment or innuendo, I feel, for the most part that I act appropriate to my age (unless I start conversing with the Rat Bastard G. Then, any type of maturity immediately disappears.)

Money magazine, however, has targeted me as a potential reader and wants to add me as a subscriber. Though I appreciate the offer guys, I have one question: Where the hell were you when I needed you!? Included in their offer are the free Money 100 Best Mutual Funds, Best Places to Live, Best Investments, Investing for College, Real Estate and Home Improvement Guide and 401(k) check-up publications. Here are the results of my experiences that each of these publications addresses: My one attempt at a Mutual fund has been a money loser, I currently live at the FTI compound, my investments suck, both Kfred Jrs. 1 and 2 have finished or are finishing college without your advice, and my 401(k) is in the toilet. Thanks for the offer. It's only about 25 years too late.

If I want true financial freedom, I already have a model for wealth: Dickie the Peap. I'll just do as he has done. Head for the Men's room about the time the check is due to arrive at the table.

It's Green Sunday with a Red, White, and Blue Twist

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have a "green" policy here at FTI to do our part to minimize our impact on society the environment. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention harmful) if you leave now without getting what you came for. So we'll do our part: it's not new, it's just gently read. Take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past. Like most fireworks, we can't guarantee there might not be a couple of duds, though.

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Jukebox: This is what it's all about

Ok, I'm glad you know

I encountered a sales technique yesterday that I am thinking about employing here at FTI.

Relaying back to our earlier purchase of the replacement FTI CRAP Vehicle, our 2 faithful readers will recall the various features on the vehicle. My 6 month trial subscription to Sirius satellite radio was about to expire yesterday and I called them to inquire about renewing. Having reached the "next available Sirius satellite counselor", I was pleasantly informed that I had made a great decision in calling and deciding to renew my subscription and was asked my name and account number. I immediately identified myself as the Executive Director here at FTI and pointed out that I was merely calling to inquire of the various pricing packages available to me. (Stealing a page from Dickie the Peap's favorite book, "The Tightwad Chronicles", I informed the counselor that money was tight, I was disabled, and inquired if there were any senior discounts available.) Though none of these ploys worked, I was informed of my ability to receive the 3 year package including all Sirius stations for $349 payable in 5 easy installments and that they would need just a little bit of information to complete the process. The people at Sirius know how to sell. They are selling something that they immediately assume you want.

This technique is known in the sales world as "The Assumptive Close"; it is assumed you are calling to buy anyway, so, lets just get on our way and we will both be done. It is actually very effective because most people can't say the word "No". I had this problem previously, but, have now recognized it and plan to deal with it accordingly. Unfortunately, the damage has been done. Had I been able to say NO while negotiating with our state Attorney General, I wouldn't be at this rinky dink Institute. Had I been able to say NO, I wouldn't be overseeing this band of losers; had I been able to say NO, instead of our given name as the Flatline Thinking Institute, FTI wouldn't be anonymously referred to as Fatheads, 'Tards, and Idiots.


From now on I will just assume that people know our plight.