The end is in sight

I am scheduled to attend a hearing at 9 am this morning for the signing and finalization of the judgment order of the FTI Dopes trial.  I really am looking forward to watching the idiot defendant and his family formally be legally held responsible for their actions.  I don't think they will actually accept their punishment, but, that is beside the point.  They are now legally attached for it.

As described earlier, the greed and stubbornness of one individual will eventually end up costing he and his family over a quarter million dollars.  It seems like such a shame.  I no longer have any feelings of sympathy or compassion for this guy and his family.  He had numerous opportunities to try to mitigate the damages of his own actions, but, wouldn't do so.  Oh well.

Like I said earlier, I don't expect ever to see some sort of big check with my name on it.  I think I will slowly receive a token amount of money gained from drawn out hearings and legal battles resulting in a substantially less amount of money than I spent after attorney fees are considered.  But that's OK.  The good guys won.  I am however quite sure I never, ever, ever, want to be mixed up with the legal system again.      

I would have made a lousy pioneer

Mrs. Kfred and I  just completed a fun weekend with Marv, the neighbor, and his wife  in the luxury and surroundings of his RV on a small trip.  There was a small festival in the area that they wanted to attend over the weekend and invited us to come up and stay over the weekend with them.

I have never been much of a camping person as I have never understood the fun of sleeping on the hard ground, freezing your ass of most of the time, not taking a shower for 2 - 3 days at a time, and eating cold, burnt on  the outside, half raw on the inside, hamburgers and fish during mealtime.  Sorry that just doesn't appeal to me.  This time was different, however.  Pull out the couch and it turns into a comfy hide-a-bed with plenty of blankets.  Microwave, flatscreen TV, internet, on-board shower and toilet, and a small ice making freezer unit for cocktails, and PRESTO!, roughing it isn't too bad.

As a nod to the idea of a community campfire, however, we did conduct a time old ritual:  we did drink 4 "one last beers" ending at 2:30 in the morning in addition to the numerous ones we had before while starting and maintaining the fire during the night.      It is always smart to properly use, care,  and handle the resources you brought with you.  I feel that simple act respected this solemn duty.

Now, where did I put the hair gel?

Jukebox: The Genius of George

A little summer mind closet cleaning

No theme today; just a couple of random thoughts that need to be expressed:

I don't understand  the Obama '12 stickers starting to pop up on cars.  As noted here previously, I don't trust any politicians regardless of party (and, no, I didn't vote for McCain.) For the love of God, though, people don't even know who the other candidate is and they already know they are going to support Obama next year!?? We're not exactly in a good spot here under this guy's leadership!  Again, I don't trust the Republicans over this guy, but,  holy shit, can't people see what happened when we selected a President based on popularity like they choose the winner of American Idol?   To this subset of the population: Welcome.  You have gained involuntary membership to our FTI population of slow learners. 

The current kill tally of the Little Bastards and his ilk is now 3. Having failed to learn how to kill successfully previously, I am now on a roll and have trapped 3 in the last 3 weeks.  My lawn is better and so is my self confidence.    I have another trap placed, set, and awaiting the next victim.  This is truly a war of attrition which I expect to win. 

A note of both congratulations and  admonishment is due to Mrs. Dickey the Peap.   The congratulations are for her 43 hell-bent years of staying with the little short-armed one this long.   The  admonishment is for  what her life really could have been had she rightfully kicked his sorry little ass to the curb 44 years ago in the first place.  Mrs. Peap is smart, attractive, and recently retired from a successful teaching career. She has so much going for her, but, she should have recognized that when the little miser pulled the now all to well familiar excuse of having "forgot my wallet, I'll catch it next time" routine when on their first ice cream date those many years ago, she should have said, "Siyornara pal, you cheap little twerp". The phrase "love is blind" truly gets exercised in this case.

I think the universe is now back in alignment with these topics revealed. I know I feel better for having unloaded them.

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know, so,  I'm taking the staff out to Brunch. Every time one of the Misfits say, do, or think something stupid, they have to put a dollar in the jar. We call it our Brunch fund. And as far as I can forecast, there's going to be a lot of Sunday meals.

Just like Sunday Brunch, most of the stuff here is overvalued, pre-cooked, and have already been sneezed on  by some snotty 6 year old kid.  But, go ahead:  take a look here and see if any of these days old items are to your liking.  Like most places, our admonishments are the same:  "Take as much as you want, read all that you take".

See you tomorrow.

You haven't been posting lately

A friendly reminder from the little miser, Dickey the Peap, was given to me yesterday about my dereliction of duty relating to posts here recently.

I have been out of town on non-Institute business and, as a result, have had to prioritize this chore down the line of completed tasks. Fear not, however, oh frugal one, as I have already started on next week's posts including a Monday version of some potpourri of random thoughts and observations which I will list.

Our upcoming Fall FTI membership drive is just around the corner and our marketing/promotions department is planning on something even bigger than our highly successful Western Hemisphere Relations Forum /Auto Parts Swap Meet" held last spring.  I shudder to think what it may entail, but, that's not my problem.  I just go along with it.

Regardless, the bashing of the short armed one begins again on Monday.

Jukebox: ..........and this point forward

Are eggs one item or 12?

I was recently solicited by a firm marketing the helpful type of signs pictured below for use here at the FTI compound. Though I could find nothing in their portfolio that I felt was directly useful, I did think the concept was on the mark. The example they presented us was especially appropriate for our population, but, as we don't have any retail outlets, I decided to pass on the opportunity.

I share this with you for your consideration.

Speak up, I can't see you

This guy employs some of the same logic I see demonstrated regularly.

Ah, the lengths some people will go to get their way. 

Jukebox: It's the Summer's Full Moon

Now, if you really are hungry

The Trustees of the the FTI Capital Preservation committee have just wound up 2 days of intense meetings which I was privileged enough to attend. I observed a reputed expert address our group and give them advice in order to shore up our financial position in this time of economic upheaval. It was amazing to watch as the members wrangled with the various financial scenarios and ideas necessary to the protection of our meager balance moving forward. No stone was unturned, nor, any idea thought goofy, as the group worked tirelessly to achieve their goal to keep our financial foundation safe. Ultimately, it was decided; only one expert, only one being with the financial where-with-all, the knowledge, the resolve, the experience, the tight-fisted monetary experience in order to deal with such a crisis was needed to be called in to address the group. Get Dickey the Peap on the phone.

The Peap reviewed the same, tired tricks he has employed himself over the years that, admittedly, have helped in amass his fabulous wealth. The browbeating of clerks, the pointed refusal to accept the number on the tag as the price, and my particular favorite, the commitment to memory rote of the phrase, "I'll catch it next time", when deciding to pay for a meal seem so, well, old. Apparently, the Peap has recognized this as well as now his new favorite technique have morphed into a 21st century variety; investing in small penny stock companies and then attempting to gain a seat on the board with his multi-100,000 share positions. Total investment: $900. (For our math impaired readers, that is approximately .0045 per share cost.) He then uses this new-found influence to further browbeat restaurant maitre'd's into thinking he must be some big-shot that gets a free meal and the cycle just perpetuates itself. Actually, it is a brilliant strategy.

Our committee politely listened, gave him the obligatory golf clap at the end of his presentation, and then sent him on his merry way as the short-armed one reportedly had another lunchtime obligation. Something about going to Costco and enjoying the samples.

Not a welcome rating

I was called to a late night, emergency, on-the-double, last minute meeting called by the cheap-assed Board of Directors yesterday to take up an urgent matter. The ramifications, they felt, could be enormous. I, on the other hand, saw this whole thing coming.

It seems that an upgrade rating by the International Delegation of Irrelevancy, Observations, and Truthfulness (IDIOT) Society of our efforts here mean now that an influential, partially respected, ratings organization has looked at our past efforts, noted our various observations and writings,and decided we are now more stupid than our peers. This designation is obviously not a positive trend for our readership.

To our two faithful readers, we apologize. I will do everything in my power to lower the level of stupidity here. Keep in mind, however, I cannot control the outside influences of the subject matter I deal with on a daily basis. They are called Misfits for a reason.

Jukebox: Don't we all?

Our own Crisis

Interestingly, a crisis that has been bubbling in the background here at FTI has suddenly and distinctly come to the forefront for our attention. Not unlike the recent budget battle in Congress over the US debt situation, their is an ideological split among our group on how to best proceed to meet the mandates of our original charter. Our crisis? An intellectual one. 

Aligned on  one side of the controversy is the idiot faction; Gummo, the Balloon Boy, the Rat Bastard G, et al., who seem to think that the continuing contribution to intellectual enhancement of the Internet consists of posting 40 year old Beatles videos on Youtube.  The other side (best described as "illusory" thinkers ) are populated by Slateface and Dickey the Peap who feel the best way to demonstrate intellectual  prowess to our 2 faithful readers is to constantly belittle and make fun of me as Executive Director.   Neither faction, however, can claim superiority in their arguments as both groups are easily classified as dimwitted, slow, and in the Peap's case, cheap.  Regardless, it is my duty as Executive Director to listen to all of the advice given to me, evaluate it for it's usefulness, and then decide how to proceed. 

Fortunately, the cheap-assed Board of Directors did allow me the option to pursue independent courses of action should I choose to when confronted with this exact type of situation.   Currently,  like the woman in Oklahoma has already done, I am leaning toward claiming that FTI is actually related to DB Cooper.  I hope it is true; it would explain the disappearance of any sign of intelligence all of this time.

Best filed under "Life, Get a"

I know you have to be creative in order to get people to donate to your cause, but I seem to be missing the purpose here.  This actually mirrors my thought of stacking our ceremonial pointed hats atop one another in order to attain a new height record.  I think I will abandon that goal as well. 

LONDON (Reuters) - A British attempt to set a new world record for the longest chain of brassieres was called off after volunteers got the lingerie in a twist. Campaigners at "Bra Chain" hoped to hook together over 100 miles of bras in Worcester to raise money for women's charities and beat the current world record of 166,000 linked brassieres, held by Australia.

Volunteers, or "hookers," aimed to connect 200,000 bras, but were forced to quit at half that number when the undergarments became tangled in the boxes.

"We underestimated the time it would take to get the bras out of their boxes and hooked together - there were bras all over the place," said Launa Walker at Bra Chain.

"It does take a lot of time to assemble bras into a chain and after about nine hours of hooking them up we decided to call it a day," Walker told Reuters.

"We are going to try it again -- we've learned a few tricks of the trade, now all that remains is to set a date," said Walker.