Idiocy from a female perspective

I'll let our 2 faithful readers do the math on this one:  A phone call yesterday to the compound was received concerning our facility, our current capacity, whether we had separate quarters for both men and women, our ability to mentor on a meaningful basis, and if  any of our staff had ever confused illicit drugs for a pack of Juicy Fruit chewing gum.  Wannabe actress, rich girl, and "I don't do anything but try to be famous" Paris Hilton's recent arrest over cocaine possession,  her denial of any knowledge of it, and authorities  considering placing her in some type of diversion program as opposed to jail all make up for some interesting speculation. 

If she does get placed here at FTI,  I wonder:  Will authorities later second guess the decision to avoid jail in order to have her here and learn the hardened cheapskate tactics of  Dickie the Peap?  I think that would be a bit harsh of a sentence. 

Well, they sound alike

I currently am having mixed feelings over a particular incident that I instigated a week ago.  On the one hand, I am angry, incensed, and furious to the point that I am contemplating legal action.  On the other hand, I am equally glad and performing cartwheels (mentally, of course) in celebration .  I guess both could be described as extreme opposites concerning the same issue. 

My recent letter to A. Barry,  the CEO of AARP, was a direct response to his invitation to join his organization.  I felt I was clear, succinct, and gracious in turning down his offer to join his group.  Now I find out that he has solicited one of our own, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, and invited him as well to join by sending him his own personalized membership card.    I don't like the idea of an outsider meddling within FTI organizational boundaries, but, am joyful that I am able to castoff the latex tying one as no one previously has shown any interest in doing so.

Deciding I should confront this challenge head on, I contacted the National Field office,  Division of Membership Recruiting, of the AARP to get to the bottom of this and see if they really knew the caliber of people they were seeking in this case.  A lovely senior volunteer named Ermintrude patiently listened to me introduce myself and  explain a little about FTI, my concerns and conflict over the letter they sent to Gummo, and my request to cease and desist these unsolicited letters to our members.  She then proceeded to tell me she had a slight hearing loss, hadn't been able to find here hearing aid previously, but had just located it, and asked if I could  start over again at the beginning.  After 20 minutes of tortured conversation, she was able to look up in their potential new membership database and announce that, "Oh my, a mistake had been made."   The AARP had actually targeted a retiring side show freak from the circus with an affinity for the cane beverage, Rummo, the Baboon Boy, to join their group .  Apparently when the information was entered into the data base, a key punch error was made.  ("Oh, I have a touch of Arthritis, dear".)   I left the office with a sincere apology and well wishes. 

My mixed emotions has left me in conflict since the discovery of this mix-up.  Again, I don't like the AARP contacting our team directly without my knowledge.  I do like, though, the thought of moving one of the whackjobs out of our population.  I guess I chalk all of this up to the plight of getting older.  Our senses, coordination, and well being just start to generally decline.  I didn't realize that our level of intelligence did, as well.  

Our international division is considering this guy for membership

BERLIN (Reuters) – A Polish man living in Germany went about his business for about five years without noticing he had been shot in the head because he was drunk when it happened. Police in the western city of Bochum said on Tuesday doctors found a .22 caliber bullet in the back of his head after the 35-year-old went to have what he thought was a cyst removed.

Presented with the 5.6mm projectile, the man recalled he had received a blow to the head around midnight at a New Year's party "in 2004 or 2005," but had forgotten about it because he had been "very drunk," a police spokesman said.

"He told us he remembered having a sore head, but that he wasn't really one for going to the doctor," the spokesman said.

The wound later healed around the bullet and it was not until the man decided to have the lump examined due to recurring pains that the discovery was made.

Police said they were not treating the incident as suspicious as the bullet might have got lodged in the man's head when a reveler fired a gun in celebration.  "It may have been a shot fired up in the air which entered his head on the way down," the spokesman said.

Jukebox: A little Friday Soul

We're juuussst a bit under our goal

Reminiscent of the fiasco associated with last years investing attempt, my personal financial adviser has indicated that my latest effort is eerily having the same results.  With big returns, low risk, a stellar track record of reliable payments, and a gullible client, all of the pieces were in place for some big money to be made:  by the guy I gave the money to.  A month's worth of excuses, delays, dropped phone calls, pending meetings with clients, out or range contact, etc.  (I've heard them all), has yielded the same rate of return:  Zero. 

Though these are my personal funds, I had planned on donating any profits to FTI in conjunction with any monies raised during our upcoming membership pledge drive.    No actual FTI funds were diverted or used during this speculative venture.  I sure hope it resolves itself as these funds were going to be dedicated to restocking some basics around here:  medicine for the infirmary, hymnals for the chapel, and   tinfoil for the hats.   

***********************************************************************
FTI Gossip

Heard Around The Compound:  Insiders say that Dickie the Peap is scheduled to have lunch today with FTI Trustee, Giacommo.  No one is talking specifics about  the topics of conversation during the mid day grub-gab, but pals indicate Giacommo is resigned to paying in order to avoid a nasty scene when the check arrives. Hopefully, the short-armed one will have eaten earlier in the morning so the bill won't be too high.

***********************************************************************

Yo, youse wanna make some money?

Upon my return from my recent FTI road-trip to New York City, I have gotten back into the regular routine around here at FTI.  Plowing through the assorted bills, hate mail, periodicals, and scribbled anonymous threats,  I did note a letter/solicitation offer for a chance to refinance the FTI compound at a more favorable rate than we currently pay.   The compound was fortunately built and financed a few years back at the height of easy lending and good rates, so, currently it is not "underwater" as a number of other properties are at the present time.  Anyway, the terms seemed appealing and I called the representative. 

The recent economic upheaval has caused many people (including myself and Mrs Kfred) to look at their spending habits and see if changes can be made that would benefit them in the long run.  I have been thinking about moving to a 15 year loan versus the conventional 30 year term for a while and inquired into the terms of such a loan.  The difference between what we currently pay and the new loan would only be about 5/8 of a point and with the associated costs and increased monthly commitment, it just didn't seem to pencil out.  My post here as Executive Director of FTI pays no actual salary, so, I rely on my auxiliary position in Dilbertland and the income of Mrs. Kfred to keep us afloat.   I can pay ahead if I ever get enough cash flow to do so without any prepayment penalty, so, it didn't appear to make economic sense to move forward, but I felt I needed to speak with an expert.    Knowing that our resident financial expert/staff cheapskate, Dickie the Peap, may have some insight into all of this, I consulted with him to get his take. 

The short-armed one immediately set off on an argument about having "picked up the check the last time" and that it wasn't his turn to buy.  Re-directing his attention to the fact that I was not inquiring about purchasing a meal,  rather,  to discuss some advance financial planning, I came away with the realization of the similarities of how he had amassed his personal fortune and that of the guys on the corner I observed in New York City:    Run a game of 3 Card Monty and then deny everything when confronted.  It works every time. 

The Idiocy is sometimes in the simplicity

Having finished yesterday with the FTI Road trip to New York City, I was not entirely sure of what was to greet me upon my return here to FTI.  Thankfully, nothing too extreme demanded my immediate attention, nor, were there any messages from our local bail bondsman requesting payment for any infractions.  I will discuss some of the adventures in New York in later posts, but, do wish to point out one of the reasons our work here remains unfinished.

The one (and only) simple assignment I left the Misfits was to have each of them develop a simple unique thought of their own, test it with our fully restored Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe,  and then perform it to verify it's actual worth in real life.  Here's what a week's worth of effort produced: 

Gummo, the Balloon Boy:  For high blood pressure sufferers-simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure on your veins.  Remember to use a timer. 

Rat Bastard G:  Avoid cutting yourself when slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold the vegetable while you chop. 

Slateface:  If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives.  Then you will be afraid to cough. 

Marv the Neighbor:  If you can't fix it with a hammer, you've got an electrical problem. 

Supposedly, each of these sure-to-be-recognized-in-the-future pieces of wisdom was both actually performed and later confirmed by our own Truthometer Deluxe.   This was not how I envisioned our fully restored  Ebay castoff to be utilized during my absence as I restored it for more important validation queries. I guess I should be happy as it does confirm what I have thought all along:  these guys are idiots.

It's Vacation Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's  vacation Sunday.  Nobody's here.  This is all done automatically.  This is all done Automatically.  This is all done automatically.  

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. See you then.  See you then.  See you then. 

Jukebox: Sing it Frank

We'll be back shortly.

Toothbrush?  Check.

Official FTI ID Card?  Check.

Spending Cash?  Check.  (I have more than enough as I raided Dickie the Peap's buried soup can while he was attempting to chisel the newspaper kid down on his monthly subscription fee.)

Ceremonial Executive Director's pointed hat?  Certainly not.   That item  is reserved for only the highest and most solemn functions here at FTI.  The next regularly scheduled use of that is next month when we formally announce our partnership with  the good folks at Factorcrap (the same company who produced the Truthometer Deluxe still used today at FTI).  They recently  signed a one year licensing agreement with us here at FTI and in exchange for a small fee paid to us, they retain the rights to any intellectual property emanating from our efforts.  The old maxim of "You get what you pay for" is certainly in play here as they sure as hell didn't pay very much.  And I guarantee they aren't going to get very much.

Anyways, I think we are good to go.  We are out of here for a few days returning next Tuesday.  In the meantime, we suggest our 2 faithful readers take a break, escape the shame, and get a life.  It's really for your own good.   

Say! Now that sounds like fun!

The good folks here at Blogger, the service which publishes our daily screed, are having their 11th birthday party and are celebrating.  One of their ideas is to "have a Meetup party where fellow bloggers get together in-person, chat about blogging and celebrate with friends they may have otherwise only met online."

As described, it sounds simple. Go to the   BloggerFiesta Meetup site and do a quick search on the map. To join a scheduled party, click on the I’m Interested button on the party details page.   When you start or join a party, consider volunteering to be the Meetup organizer. Anyone can do it, plus you’ll get fame and glory. That gives you the ability to set the venue and time of the party. What you do at the birthday party is completely up to you. Meetups can be simple, and no party is to small.

I thought this would be a great idea as I wanted to expose the Misfits to  some other type of higher level thinking individuals in hopes it may spur them onto greater achievements.  Supposedly, the Fiesta scheduled
nearest here at FTI appears to be 1000 miles away, so, I decided to host our own meetup here at the compound.   We have had numerous inquiries and  excited responses, but interest wanes once we reveal our actual identity and stated purpose.  To date, we have confirmed responses from a woman who blogs about the perils and injuries related to competitive knitting, a 12 year-old child prodigy who writes daily about wild dung identification, and an individual simply known as "ToeJam".  The idiot FTI IT team (the most reviled department here at FTI) are excited about meeting this guest.   I know nothing else about him.

I think that I may have to "un-host' at this juncture of the planning.  Though I am sure these individuals could contribute mightily to some additional points of view on new subjects, I think we are far enough off of the beaten path of sensibility to try to accommodate anyone else.

When you need help, consult the professionals

I averted a major crisis this weekend with the passing of the resolution by the cheap-assed Board of Directors to allow me depart on the pending FTI Roadtrip to New York City without finalizing our succession plan.  Our two faithful readers will note that this could have been a major stumbling block into a successful journey, but, that issue has now been tabled due to the need for further study.  The BOD's are content with the policy in place and we will address it upon my return. 

A  new incident was revealed yesterday, however, that now has me recalculating the cost of this trip as it has suddenly exponentially exploded.  The main goal of the roadtrip is to visit with  Kfred Jr. 2 and spend the weekend in the city doing some tourist things and enjoying the sights.  The original agreement was that we were to go out with young Kfred Jr. 2 and a few of his friends and parents to celebrate the beginning of their final year at West Point.  Included are a dinner at Ninja,  a high end Japanese restaurant, in New York City on Friday night.  I received a call from  my youngest offspring yesterday informing me that an email was presently being forwarded with some descriptions of  various meals of the restaurant in question and that I should pick one of the entrées in advance.  Perusing, I saw some interesting choices that looked appealing.  I told young Kfred it looked wonderful and thanked him for being such a gracious host.    There was a slight pause and he replied, "Um, yeah.  The restaurant will be hosting you".  I again then looked at the choices and realized the numbers next to the descriptions were actually costs.  The cheapest was $38 and advanced to $88 for the largest meal featuring a Kobe Beef ribeye steak.  As I was invited, I assumed that I would be hosted (TRANSLATION:  "hosted" (n) 1: a guest of, 2: completely paid for, 3: your money is no good here), but, suddenly realized that was no longer the case.  Upon reflection, I realize you only live once, the kid is a good kid, I am on personal time (with a small stipend from the FTI petty cash account), and what the heck; no big deal.   I made my choice, relayed it forward, and realized I will be at FTI a year longer than presently planned in order to pay this trip off. 

Later, recognizing that we have an expert cheapskate within the Misfits, I phoned Dickie the Peap for how he would have dealt with this type of unexpected request for funds.   I explained the circumstances, outlined the potential costs, and relayed the significance of the event to the short-armed whiner.  Consulting  his checklist of finely tuned questions and scenarios (locations of nearest exits, proximity of table to restroom for excusing oneself when check arrives, oft-used complaints of food quality to avoid paying, deliberate planned shortage of actual cash and no credit cards on self with promise to "catch it next time", etc.), the Peap advised that ultimately he would simply buy a can of $1.79 albacore tuna in advance, roll it in a lettuce garnish off the plate of one of the other diners, and consider it a suitable substitute for the Sushi entrée served by the restaurant itself, and use the $38 savings toward  something more important.  Like contributing to any efforts dedicated to delaying the funding into studying the causes of alligator-armed syndrome.   

Professionals.  They really are worth what you pay them.

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.

Isn't this a function of government?

A crisis has erupted here at FTI that has thrown our plans for the weekend into utter chaos.  An emergency meeting of the cheap-assed Board of Directors has been called for later this morning and I only have a few hours to prepare for it. 

The problem is that our succession plan is a bit old and has never been formally updated.  Obviously, I have assigned my assistant, Giacommo, Trustee status which covers most basic circumstances, but, does not address long term authority and ultimate responsibility issues for care of the Misfits.   As Mrs. Kfred and I prepare for the upcoming FTI roadtrip to New York next week, I have been notified that concrete plans have to be in place before my departure and ready for the meeting today.  Hence, my problem. 

Thinking that ultimately, the government would have some type of resource to help, I have contacted numerous local, state, and federal agencies specializing in such diverse categories as animal control, mental health, and waste management operations.  To  date, none of these agencies seem interested or capable of dealing with our type of population.  A NASA  related organization, Alien Studies and Confirmation, did perk up a bit when I explained the oddities, deformations,  and peculiarities of our team, but ultimately passed on further involvement. 

My fear is if I don't find a responsible agency, I will be prevented from leaving.   I do know one thing for sure:  I don't have to worry about government takeover and bailout of our  operations here.  They only get involved with things that can be further ruined.  We're already there. 

Jukebox: I'm Getting There

Will there be a public trial?

Never being satisfied with anything but a complete and honest disclosure, it does pain us to air our own dirty laundry. Yes, I am talking about the actual undergarments worn by the Misfits here at FTI. Yesterday was wash day and we apparently violated some of the local regulations relating to visual pollution by drying some of the garments on an outdoor clothesline which prompted an anonymous complaint call to law enforcement. Having been notified of local rules and regulations, we promptly complied and removed the offending garments from the view of passersby. I guess some people don't understand that it is not considered threatening that some men wear women's undergarments. Come on. It's no big deal.

Actually, we currently have a bigger controversy occurring that needs to be addressed. The FTI Ethics, Morals, and Integrity Standards committee (whom also double as the operators of our wastewater treatment facility) are investigating an undisclosed violation of FTI policy. The details are murky  and everything is currently on a confidential basis, however,  information leaks from the committee repeatedly point to one of the members of the Idiot squad,  a local goat, and "Flexible Flora" (the Anytime, Anywhere, Always Willing Lifelike Love doll). 

All of this comes before next week's pending FTI roadtrip to New York.  This kind of stuff needs to be investigated and dealt with before our departure. I can deal with the shame and humiliation of this process; it's the fear of finding out what else emerges that scares me.   I might have to call all of the Idiots back from summer break and have an accountability formation and review.  And that scares me even worse than the actual investigation.

I think we can all relate to this guy

This is a great story. The FTI HR Department is pursuing him as a possible consultant.

No doubt he would fit in.

We are in control

I received a phone call from Brother Eddie yesterday. He definitely has a distinct personality and view on life that is a bit different than mine, but hey, that's what makes the world go 'round. He asks me if I am going to go to my cousin's pending 80th birthday party scheduled to be held 2000 miles from the FTI compound. (I guess the fact that we are brothers related by blood negates the fact that this woman is also his cousin.) The fact that he speaks as an unrelated member of the family with no connection to others seems odd to me. Regardless, I tell him no; I haven't seen her in 15 years and other than a Christmas card once a year, we don't keep in contact and there isn't much of a relationship there .

After his phone call, I realized how irritated I am with the practice of people constantly talking in the 3rd person. Politicians, media relations people, corporate executives all do it; "We have decided", "Our company", etc. Why do people talk that way? Are they trying to hide something? Is it an attempt to project some sort of stature or create some sort of illusion of importance?

Our FTI research staff has been assigned to study this phenomena.

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: Look Deep into my eyes

An open letter

Yesterday I received a solicitation letter and my temporary AARP membership card in the mail from the CEO of AARP, A. Barry Rand. The letter invites me to join AARP. I didn't ask for or request this card. They just sent it. It got me to thinking that we here at FTI might imitate this type of solicitation and build our benefactor list using this same method. I decided to write back and see if I would get a response:

Dear A. Barry,

Thank you for your recent invitation to join your organization. I appreciate the offer, but honestly, am not in need of your services at this time.

Your members look to you as a voice concerning health-related benefits, access to financial programs, someone to speak for their rights in Washington, offers of discounts on travel and other senior services, and to offer Safe driving courses. Those are all worthy causes and I offer my Congratulations on achieving and providing these services to your members.

Our group has goals they expect us to provide as well. Based on the abilities of our population, however, ours are not quite as lofty. Our members are merely content with classes that demonstrate the life skills of correctly buttoning a shirt, tying a shoelace, and identifying social settings where "nasal excavation" is inappropriate. Our oft maligned, idiot IT squad (the most reviled department at FTI), has not a clue about anything related to technology and, as a result, the Pong tournament we conduct on our network of Commodore 64 computers has been temporarily suspended . We do, however, have one of the nations top financial experts on staff, Dickie the Peap. Dickie is so cheap that he actually produces the copper wire we use for electrical purposes here at the Institute by stretching pennies out to the consistency of wire. It is a bit unconventional, but, functional. Alas, he won't do this without remuneration (if you knew the Peap, there is no task done for nothing.)

These goals are basic and necessary. But they cost money. Can we count on your support? A small donation to our cause will give you the same warm feeling that one of our staff still experiences 5 nights out of 7 resulting in extra laundering of bedsheets here at the Institute. Send money before Labor Day and an actual dribble cup used by one of the Misfits in the recent past will be rushed to your door.

In closing, from one Executive Director to another, I can relate with the daily struggles of running an organization trying to serve it's member's and that is why, A. Barry, I am contacting you. Please look inside and consider our cause. I can assure you; we are no threat to your organization's member base.

Sincerely,
Kfred
Executive Director
Flatline Thinking Institute of Alternative Interpretation and Observations

I sure hope old A. Barry sends a check.

You can never go home

While conducting the Lost Reunion Tour this past weekend, I had a chance to go back past my childhood home. The is the only home I knew since I was born until 19 years old. I played in the leaves in the fall, collected the unripe green walnuts and placed them in the street waiting for some unsuspecting motorist to drive over them and crack them open, and played tackle football in the front yard while my mother always exhorted us kids to go "play in the field". (Of course, we never did as the field is also where my Father pastured his livestock and playing there would have exposed the ball carrier of not only losing yardage on the play, but, suffering the indignity of wearing the remnants of a freshly produced cowpie on your play clothes. Now, THAT would have gone over well with Mom when it came around to laundry day.) It's where we mowed lawn, learned to identify which weeds to pull in the flowerbeds, and watched huge spiders build their webs under the eaves. It was home.

Passing by this weekend, I didn't recognize the place. The yard had dry grasses and gangly weeds close to 3 feet tall in the front. A toppled TV antenna was laying on it's side on the rooftop. An old range and kid's pedal cart were strewn in front of the driveway. The windows had all of the shades drawn save for the one room where, as kids, we watched countless hours of TV on a black and white TV and never realized we were deprived because it wasn't color. There were 3 channels and one of them came in fuzzy because the station's transmitter was on a mountain that was blocked by some hills we lived near. The place was a dump.

It was the lone downer of my weekend. It still bothers me today. I realize I can't keep living 45 years in the past and I wouldn't trade all of my accomplishments today to go back to that time. I know I am welcome and can always go back and visit anytime I would like in my memories. It just gnaws a bit inside and I am not sure it will ever go away. Even if the place were turned around tomorrow and made pristine clean, I still would have a feeling of melancholy for once was. It's not the same. You can't go home.

I've got rehearsal down at the club

The beginning of the week is upon us and time to get back to normal business. I just completed The Lost Reunion Tour weekend and it could be described as nothing more than a qualified success. It also was a period of great enlightenment to me.

One of our goals for the Misfits here at FTI is to develop some sort of outlet where they can spend time in a recreational setting. Since most of the Misfit's ability to ably compete on the normal softball, basketball, or golf teams is highly questionable, I believe I may have stumbled onto a solution while on Tour this weekend. We will start our own FTI Nightclub.

In order to lead our Nightclub, I decided I needed to find a member of our team with charisma, stage presence, and obviously, the ability to sing. Though I personally possess many talents, I was, unfortunately, not gifted with the ability to sing. While on Tour this weekend, the Rat Bastard G and I engaged in various events that consistently ended in the evenings centered around the consumption of beverages that "enhance and amplify" the exaggerated abilities of most people. During one of these events at a karaoke bar, The Rat Bastard G impressed me with his vocal abilities and command to nail both the technically challenging pieces of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and The Happy Birthday Song in the key of monotone. Recognizing immediately the potential of such a talent, I decided on the spot that the Rat Bastard would be the natural leader of an FTI Nightclub. A star is born.

As a result, The FTI "Bastardana Club" will conduct shows nightly except Sunday and Mondays. Open mike is Tuesday where potential staff members can audition and try out to join the cast. The Green Comic will open most nights with his standard tasteless, stupid, retread jokes to be followed by Gummo, the Balloon Boy and Freako Deako conducting a mind reading exhibition (which probably won't last long as neither has a mind worth reading) leading up to the Rat Bastard headlining for a full hour with his consistent off-key efforts to wow and amaze the crowd.

We are currently accepting applications for a cigarette girl. Inquire within.

It's the Lost Reunion Tour 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.