The beginning of a Joyful week

Today marks the official beginning of Wedding Week for Kfred Jr.1 and Goldilocks.  I have requested  the cheap-assed Board of Directors to authorize a temporary leave of absence and will only be spending limited time here at FTI as I will be doubling as shuttle driver, chief go-fer, and auxiliary banker for various events during the coming week. 

As this is scheduled to be a small wedding, a limited number of guests were invited.   Kfred Jr. 1 is highly familiar with the Misfits and  struggled  in deciding which ones to invite. Among the various factors in reaching his decision were the needs  of  convenience of travel, ability to comprehend what was actually occurring at the moment,  and the overall safety of the normal guests.   In the end, the only 2 Misfits scheduled to attend are Marv the Neighbor and Freako Deako.  He has known both Gummo, the Balloon Boy and  the Rat Bastard G since being a small boy, but felt the  rice throwing tradition after the ceremony could indeed re-trigger some painful flashback memories.    Both were one time busboys during a Greek wedding and the father of the bride, highly agitated with their habit of pelting the goat in attendance with wedding rice, threatened to render both of them  inoperable "as men" should it continue.  (I'll leave it to you to determine the actual threat.) 

Dickey the Peap will not be attending as he is actually conducting an alternative event this same day to celebrate the medical discovery of a surgery to correct short arm syndrome.  Correspondingly, he has invited numerous guests to a restaurant, requested that all order ala carte items for his consumption from the menu, and then sit back and relish the experience one last time before realizing he will no longer have a medical excuse not to reach for the check.     Brother Eddie is scheduled to attend in spite of his various exaggerated, physical ailments, as well.  We will have a fully staffed maintenance contingent available should there be any problems. 

All in all, I am excited.   It should be a fun week.  I sincerely hope it doesn't go the way of most events with which we are associated.   

It's Green Sunday

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

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part.  Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful  to the environment)  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.

A simple point of view

I purposely avoid inserting my family's or my own personal life experiences into this forum.  Sure,  there are some striking similarities and our staff is populated by those with traits very similar to people I know, but for all intents and purposes, I  choose to make this as anonymous as possible:  I want you to consider the possibility  that FTI could be located in your city.  And you don't even realize it. 

Anyways (a gentle nod to the Rat Bastard G),  our 2 faithful readers already know that Mrs. Kfred is not only my long time wife of over 28 years and reluctant Director of Safety here at FTI, but also, the mother of our 2 sons, Kfred Jr.1 and Kfred Jr.2.  Both are fine young men whom have already achieved success in their young lives and I am sure will continue to enjoy the same.    I have a feeling they both left home at an early age to avoid being drawn into the FTI web. 

Neither has traits superior to the other, they are just different.  Kfred Jr.1 is a creative, artistic, flamboyant sort. He is well-read, a wonderful writer, likes to learn new things, and has a delightful sense of humor.  enough about me.  Graduated from college, he is scheduled to be married to his longtime girlfriend, Goldilocks, next week.  Kfred Jr. 2 is  the athletic, precise,  serious, and determined one.    Yesterday, Kfred Jr.2 called to inform us that he has been selected to a leadership position  at his school for next year.  His school:  The US Military Academy at West Point.  As a "Firstie" (Senior) next year, he will be responsible for overseeing a group of people, have day-to-day duties for which he will be accountable, and ultimately lead his team.  (Are you starting to see some striking similarities?)  We lovingly refer to him as ""Bilko" for the manner in which he is constantly working Mrs. Kfred and myself for any type of non-college expenses he incurs.     (Case in point:  a $138 charge on his credit card  to a local brew-pub is somehow a financial obligation we agreed to before sending him off to college.) 

We are very proud of both young men and unfailingly never forget to tell them so.  In return, both of them constantly include us in their lives and cheerfully invite us to be involved with their activities.   We couldn't be more happy.  I relay this scenario not to brag or boast, rather, to demonstrate the simple joy of family.  I am worried a bit about the younger one's insistence for me to call him by his new name, though. 

Sir. 

Jukebox:We have met before

Acting intelligently is out

PHOENIX – Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio has started a program he calls "Pedal Vision," in which inmates pedal stationary bikes to generate electricity for television sets. The bikes are customized to turn on connected TV sets once inmates at Phoenix's Tent City Jail pedal enough to generate 12 volts of electricity. An hour of pedaling equals an hour of television.

This story caught my eye as this sheriff has become nationally known for his innovative ways to deal with his jail population. I think it is a creative and different way to deal with 2 issues: the health of his inmates and as a method to teach them that everything has a price; if you want something bad enough, you will work for it. 

I am currently researching some type of parallel program for our staff in the same manner.  If I could develop some type of simple, mundane, task that when performed, the resulting actions would be converted to energy, we may become a bit more self sustainable here at FTI.  The difficulty, however, is to determine what type of program would be beneficial to both our staff and  to FTI overall.   I presented this concept at yesterday's staff meeting and solicited suggestions.   Here are a couple of rejected ideas and the reasons they wouldn't work: 

1)  Counting and recounting  money.  Dickey the Peap would short out the lines. 

2)  Develop new jokes for entertainment.  The Green Comic acted as if I were speaking in tongues when I mentioned this one. 

3)  Shopping for Groceries.  The entire meltdown of our recent Easter event was a result of the actions of the Rat Bastard G.  There is no way in hell that he will step foot inside a grocery store again on our behalf. 

4)  Offer telephone support for users of the soon-to-be discontinued Windows Vista operating system.  The FTI IT Department, the most reviled department here at FTI,  is still working on upgrading our system to Vista.  You can't support something you don't understand.   

Interestingly, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, seemed to be in favor of this entire program. I suspect it had to do with his affinity for a bicycle, though, I have never figured out what that connection was.  Regardless, we welcome your input should you think of anything our staff could perform of value. 

Will Obamacare cover the subscription fee?

I had a discussion with Dickey the Peap the other day and we were discussing investment strategies.  The short-armed one is infamous for deep analysis, careful consideration, and unique timing when determining which sectors and companies in which to invest his tightly-clenched dollars.  Once this arduous task is completed, he sits back, monitors his choices, and grimaces as he watches the plummeting value of his portfolio occur almost instantaneously.  Now, Dickey  is not short on resources or intelligence; he is actually a very bright, successful individual.  He is just deficient, however, in logic.  His recent adventures included investing in a small biomedical company that is exploring  ways to deal with erectile dysfunction in men and another that is building software for the gaming and entertainment industry which detects electrical signals produced by the brain.  This type of product could eventually morph into some type of technology that would help paralyzed people control movement  via thought or gaming enthusiasts play games without having to have the mandatory eye/hand coordination to be successful.  The Peap-ed one surmised that if he were to corner the market on both of these companies, he could actually gain enough voting control to force a merger resulting in a company that would cure impotency instantly, simply by  the thought patterns generated by the brain. 

I still shake my head in amazement in reflecting on this conversation.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that a highly  successful, alternative type of product , used and known by men beginning at approximately age 13 all over the world  has been around for nearly 60 years.  It's called Playboy magazine. 

It's Easter Sunday

Hey, it's Easter Sunday, the Misfits are out looking for one another. They never have seemed to understand the egg thing. Anyway, it's tough enough to get this group to think during the week, let alone the weekend. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful to the environment) 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.

Caution: Don't feed the animals

Today's pending FTI Family Easter Event and accompanying Beer Garden plaza have me more than a bit concerned. As chronicled earlier, I was out-voted by the cheap-assed Board of Directors in even conducting this event, so,  have adopted the " if-you-can't-beat'em-join'em" attitude in observing this fiasco.  I will be testing the beer in the plaza behind a set of dark glasses and fake mustache disguise and wish to have absolutely no association with this event.  

A few observations so far:

1.  The Rat Bastard G, communicating on an old model, poor quality, cell phone provided by our infamous IT department , the most reviled department here at FTI, mistakenly heard the request to "pick up 5 dozen chicken eggs" as "5 dozen chicken legs"  and purchased the same.
 
2.  Gummo, the Balloon Boy, fully regaled in his paper chef's hat, cheerfully decided to go ahead and boil the legs anyway under the guise of "the show must go on".  This is of course, is in direct conflict with the fact  that there is no practical way to dye cooked chicken legs. 

3.  Marv the Neighbor is pouting because he didn't get to deep-fry the chicken legs.

Surveying the compound as I write this, I note that the Misfits are constantly shooing away 2 stray dogs,   one cat,  and reminding Dickey the Peap not to touch, while hiding the chicken legs.  In addition, I have noted a few raccoons and a circling hawk attracted by the cooked meat.    

Like most family Easter events, I am sure this one will be remembered for a long time.  I just hope it's not for the wrong reasons.   

Jukebox: A simple Rule to Remember

Will there be Playboy bunny's then?

I should have know this was going to happen.  During yesterday's staff meeting, Gummo, The Balloon Boy, volunteered the idea of an "alternative event" for our initial FTI sponsored Easter Egg hunt scheduled for this coming Saturday.  I knew there was something in the offing, but had no idea of the sheer idiocy involved.  Once the details were revealed, it made perfect sense.  If you are a moron. 

True to the type of previous thinking and analysis now exhibited here on an oh-too-frequent basis,  Gummo suggested  we involve parents rather than just the kids.  He had noticed similar type of successful organizations that offered hard boiled eggs and thought that we might offer a new twist to a generations old tradition.  I was suitably impressed with this new-found line of reasoning from old "Air Bag" and asked for more details.  The reasoning went something like this:  Easter eggs hunts always involve eggs and similar Easter themed items (marshmallow chicks, jelly beans, and foil wrapped chocolate eggs, etc).   Not abandoning Easter Eggs but, offering a new twist, we ought to appeal to the parents with  something more geared to their tastes.   So far, so good.    (Now, I don't know many people who don't care for chocolate and jelly beans; the marshmallow items might be a bit sketchy, but, let's give Gummo the benefit of the doubt).  Here is where the train ran off of the tracks:  As an accompanying item to the various hard boiled eggs scattered throughout the FTI compound we should also hide adult oriented items related to hard boiled eggs:  Cornuts, Pepperoni sticks,  pretzels, and gambling pull tabs.  Immediately realizing the similarities between this suggestion and the items stocked behind the counter at Any Tavern USA, I abruptly moved that this suggestion was maddening and that  we consider the next agenda item. 

Regardless, the 1st FTI sponsored Family Egg hunt is scheduled for this Saturday, rain or shine.  I was out- voted, however, on one suggestion that will be implemented at our event.   As a result, I have decided to not participate in the actual hunt, but, will be there to meet and greet all of our guests.  The actual event is scheduled to begin in the afternoon, I will be at the compound starting at 9am.  Please come by and say hello.  I will be in the Beer Garden. 

This is why I never get an advance copy

Once again, I haven't seen the advance agenda for today's weekly staff meeting, but do point out a few potential topics of discussion:

1. The upcoming FTI sponsored Easter Egg hunt is scheduled for next Saturday. I have not been  directly involved with the event planning, but apparently  Gummo, the Balloon Boy,  thought it would be fine if we develop an "alternative event" related to liquor as opposed to the traditional type.   I am sure there will be more about this as the week grinds on;
2. I will be leaving town mid-week again on non-Institute business and we need to appoint a temporary caretaker Executive Director to fill the vacancy. Giacommo performed capably in my absence and other than the escaping watch-goats incident from 2 weeks ago, seems capable of "manning the store";
3. The FTI IT Department, the most reviled department here at FTI, is scheduled to present on their plan on how to dispose of the old FTI computer with all of it's sensitive data on the hard drive. Personnel files, financial data, and embarrassing pictures personal digital images meaningful only to us here at FTI should not end up in a shelter somewhere as the results of a well-meaning, but obviously askew,  plan to recycle computers for the less fortunate.
4.  A request out of the petty cash fund has been requested by Dickey the Peap for purchase of a pair of pants. He lost his a few weeks ago during a "pantsing" incident initiated by some of the other members of our staff after having been labeled a "Nancy-boy" for some comments he posted. I expect this request to sail swiftly through committee. No one wants to see the "Peap" without his pants.

Upon review, I'm glad I didn't get an advance copy.  It only makes me envious of how the real world operates.

It's Palm Sunday

Duh. Take a look at the calendar. It's tough enough to get this group to think during the week, let alone the weekend. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful to the environment) 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.

Technology is a wonderful thing

Having limped along since our initial inception in July of 2009 on a no-name Windows XP computer, I  slipped a provisional line item into the 2010  budget that  the cheap-assed Board of Directors apparently didn't discover during the approval process at the end of the year.  As a result, today's post is the first produced on the newly purchased FTI computer.  True to their form, the FTI  IT department, the most reviled department here at FTI, fumbled their way through set -up and installation over the past 3 days, but, have finally gotten us up and running as evidenced by this posting.

A member of our staff, Marv the Neighbor, did contribute a valuable insight that I wish to share with our 2 faithful readers.  It quite honestly reflects the frustration most of us experience with computers from time to time.

After going through a virus attack,


Losing a hard drive,

Fighting off hackers,

Upgrading all my software,

Installing fire-walls,

Being threatened with being cut-off by my email provider,

And a host of other problems...

I have fixed my computer...

And NOW it works exactly the way I want it to!

 

Jukebox: A Fitting End to a Week's Story

I'm OK. It was only a scratch.

And now, the final installment of my story.  Here's part 1,  here's part 2:

The 3rd (that I know of) margarita arrives and play continues around the table.  A couple of wins, a couple of losses.  A Typical Blackjack round.  Then quietly, the tide turns and the cards begin to fall favorably again.  When I win, I steadily increase my bet each time up until the point I lose a hand.  I then start over on the next hand and begin the process anew.  That's the only way you win money at Blackjack.  If you keep the same bet out each time, you will sit there for 3 hours and have about $10 more than when you arrived in the first place.  I don't like that.  Now, this whole time, I have been squirreling a couple of chips away each time.  I figure if the bottom falls out at anytime, I have something in reserve that never gets touched at any point and at least I walk away even for the session.   I know I have at least my original $60, so, I am only playing on the House's money.   

Now the margaritas must have kicked in because my admirer places a $15 bet out waiting for the next hand.  First card dealt; an Ace.  "Alright!," she says.  "Halfway home".  Cards are dealt around the table, dealer gets a face card.  The 2nd cards are dealt,  and lo and behold, another Ace lands on top of the first one.  "Yes!!"  So now, she is forced to split these and play as two separate potential winning Blackjack hands, but, it will cost another $15 to do so.   "Do you think I should do it?" "Quicker than Dickie the Peap heading for the door after dinner," I replied.  I get a highly puzzled look from the rest of the players at the table and suddenly remember I am no longer in Institute territory.  The Dealer says, "Pardon me?"    "Never mind.  Yes, split the cards".  Out go another 3-$5 chips for the bigtime showdown.  "I'm nervous with the dealers King showing."  It doesn't matter as she gets a 10 and a Queen.  Blackjack, twice.  Pay the lady $45.  Well, you would have thought my new friend had hit the lottery.  "Wow!  That was great!  Can I kiss you?"     

Now, I don't know how to exactly explain what happened next.  I was not and had no intentions of flirting with this woman.  I was just in for an afternoon of some relaxing card playing, hopefully pick up a couple of bucks, and enjoy myself.  That's it.    So what did I do?  "Sure, that's fine".  She grabbed the back of my head with her left hand, my chin with her right and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.  No sooner than finishing that act, she screams, "your wife!"    Standing no less than 5 feet is Mrs. Kfred about to ask me the obligatory " how ya doin'?" question, but now the look on her face is a little more puzzled over something more than my well being.    "Hello dear, What's going on here?"  I immediately realize the danger that is fast approaching. 

Part of my leadership skill set is to identify potential problems, implement strategies to deal with those problems, and execute those strategies to eliminate the problem.   Between dealing with a semi-drunk senior citizen, a new player at the 3rd base position of the table who has no problem with hitting a 15 while the rest of the table has pat hands with the dealer's up card being a 6,  and a wife I have NEVER given any reason to question my fidelity over after 28 years of marriage (and has  now lost a total of   $140 on those damn slot machines), I quickly decide it is time to am-scray.  I slide my chips to the dealer and tell him to cash me out.  My one saving grace is that I had been squirreling those chips away the whole afternoon.  My beginning stake has now grown to $200.  Subtracting the initial $60 and the $140 Mrs. Kfred has lost, our total household budget is even.  Same as when we walked in the door of the place.

Mrs. Kfred never got really mad.  I would like to  think my afternoon of adventure was due partly to my rugged good looks, chiseled features, straight teeth, muscular build,  and all of the rest of that bullshit.  Deep down, though I know the true attraction:    Some women are just attracted to men whom know how to accessorize their wardrobe.  I am confident that is what caused this whole episode.  My fashion accessory of choice?   The official FTI Fanny Pack I have been wearing the whole time.

The cougar and the hunted

..........continuing from yesterday or "Why I have no intention of rejoining the dating pool".........................

Anyway, we went on talking and she asked me what I was doing in the area and asked what I did for a living. I answered I was a high ranking official in a non-descript Institute and offered her my official FTI identification badge as proof.  She remarked that she had never heard of FTI and that  I looked nothing like the photo ID on the card.  (Our idiot IT department, the most reviled department here at FTI, in conjunction with the FTI internal security team, came up with the brilliant idea of using photos not even close to bearing anything to our actual resemblances, as a means to thwart parallel groups that offer competitive policy, analysis, and observations.  I'll let you figure that one out.)  Also, the cocktail waitress came by and was asked to bring another margarita. 

Regardless, she asked the question, "So, where's your wife?"  I told her that she was out somewhere on the floor playing slots.  As if on cue, Mrs. Kfred came up to the table and asked me the seemingly  innocent question  "So, how are you doing?"   Based on prior experience, I know this question is actually code talk for "I just lost my ass playing slots and am out of money.  Do you want  to give me some more or do you want me to quit?"  I answered, "fine, how are you doing?"  "I'm down $80."   A total of perhaps 30 minutes has elapsed and my wife has lost $80!  I, on the other hand, with my moderate success am up about $70.   My new friend remarks, "Oh, here she is.  You're cute.  You must be the wife.  You are a very lucky woman".  My wife said, "well, no. I'm not.  I lost my money".  My prospective fiance says, "No.  I mean you are lucky to have this man.  He's a very nice man".  The two of them make small talk and then Mrs. Kfred asks if I want her to stop playing slots.  This question is akin to  the question "Do these pants make me look fat?"  There is no correct answer.  As I am up a few dollars, I give her $20 of my winnings with  the admonishment to not lose it.  She heads for the "Chump Change" machine and I go back to playing 21.

For the next half  hour or so, I experience a pretty good run of cards, betting $15 to $20 hands and winning fairly often.  My lady friend is convinced I am good luck as she is winning as well.  Now, I realize she is getting increasingly "happier" as the afternoon wears on and I  have been receiving smirks from the other players and the dealer.   As they can obviously observe what is going on, I decide to entertain the boys a little.  I begin asking my friend if I should split facecards, should I hit a Jack and an Ace, etc.  She decides that she now wants to be seated on my left side so she can "see me" from that side.  (Of course, this also makes me take the first card from the dealer on each fresh  hand as well.  We will discuss 21 strategy at another time.)  The cards are falling in the winners direction; we all exchange fist bumps and high fives as the entire table runs a pretty good streak.   I come to find out that Ms. Lonely has 2 houses, is not married, used to be a probation officer in San Diego, would  love to find a man, and, I think, loaded financially.  About this time, Mrs. Kfred  now makes a second appearance.   "Are you doing OK?"  This is actually a coy variation of the original question with the exact same meaning.  I reply, "Fine. You?"

Mrs. Kfred:  "Uh, I lost the money you gave me."
Me:  "What?!?"
Mrs. Kfred:  "Yep.  Should I quit?"
My admirer: "Honey, You should rather go shopping."

Now, I am not experienced in some matters, but I can see a potential catfight a brewin' here.  I am, though, winning at 21 and enjoying myself and want to play some  more.  I  immediately give Mrs. Kfred another $20 and wish her the best of luck this time and shoo her off.  My friend observes that, "She needs to go away".   And orders another margarita. 

Tomorrow:  "Can I kiss you?"

I Guess Women Are Just Attracted to Authority Figures

Well now, all you little Weirdos, gather round and let me tell you about the Wiley charms of your Executive Director.  Mrs. Kfred and I were on  extended weekend last week to visit Freako and enjoy some sun in the desert.  The sun was wonderful, the food was great, and the luck was positive.........which brings us to our story.

This past Saturday, while attending the Carrot Festival,  we went to a local casino in the  area.   We both like to casually gamble and view it as a basically harmless activity.   I like playing 21, Mrs. Kfred  likes the slots and insists that she has a sure fire method to detect a winning machine.  If I hadn't previously thought enough of her intelligence to appoint her as Director of Institute Safety here at FTI, I swear she would rate only  one rung higher than Dickie the Peap on the IQ chart with this type of analysis.  I must say she has been quite lucky in the past, however.     Regardless, we decided to meet in 90 minutes time and went our separate ways. 

I spot a $5 minimum bet 21 table  populated by 4 men and one woman playing and decide to fill the available chair next to the woman.    The lady is approximately 65 years old, moderately attractive, with a half finished margarita in front of her spot.  We exchange smiles and nods, I greet the dealer, and  lay 3 $20 bills on the table as my entire stake; win, lose or draw that's all I am pulling out of my pocket.  (Coincidentally, this $60 is equal to the current balance of the FTI  pension  fund.  I point this out only to highlight that we, too,  at FTI are not immune to the financial difficulties suffered by the rest of society.)  Anyway, I start playing and attempt to cover the inevitable losses I know that my household budget is about to suffer due to the miscalculations of selecting a winning slot machine based on the cartoon figures on the reels. 

Now, when I play 21 in a casino, I am very intent.  I have no "method" or system and I never drink alcohol while playing.  I study the cards and try to determine at least how many 10's and face cards are still in play.  As a result, I don't make much small talk, chatter much, or congratulate other players on a "good hit".  I just play the game and keep to myself.  Anyway, after about 10 minutes of play, I begin to enjoy a lucky streak and win consistently.  The woman seated to my right comments that, "Hey, you are doing great" and "way to go".  I thank her and think nothing more about it.  After my 5th consistent winning hand, she remarks, " Gosh, you're winning and here by yourself.  Wow".   I ignore the remark and keep playing the game.  A few hands later, I am dealt a blackjack on a $15 bet  and she says, "Wow, that's great!  Do you want to get married?" I point out to her that my wife might not go for that.  "You're married?  You don't wear a ring!  Do you just do that to confuse women?"  I, in fact, do not and have not ever worn a wedding ring, bracelet, or necklace.  Ever.  I am always wearing the  lanyard  with my official FTI identification badge  (it's amazing, the number  perks I enjoy when I show my badge) under my shirt, but other than that, no jewelry.

Coming tomorrow:  "Where's your wife?" and  "She needs to go away"

Bits and pieces, odds and ends

Well, a new week is upon us here at FTI and I am back in the Director's chair.  I haven't seen the agenda for today's weekly staff meeting, but, will address a few housekeeping administrative items  in advance myself: 

• Thanks to Giacommo for the fine job performed in my absence.  Gummo the Balloon Boy has successfully re-gained having his "freak" on; I can only assume this was due to  Giacommo's efforts.  (One astute reader noted that the last time I was absent from duties,  the misfits commandeered this blog with pictures of Gingerbread houses and the like.  FTI settled out of court with the Hayward family on that one, but, insisted on a sealed agreement  in order to avoid needless additional less-than-flattering publicity.   Thank God, that type of event didn't occur during Giacommo's watch.)  The only mishap was that the herd of FTI watch goats did escape their pen, but Giacommo did successfully manage to corral all, but one.  My fear is that Marv the Neighbor may attempt to deep fry it as well if he catches it first. 

• Freako is doing well and should be finishing treatment his rest in about another 3 weeks time.  It's amazing what drying out  the good weather can do for one's attitude; and finally, 

• I still got game.  Suffice to say, this event will be plumbed to later depths tomorrow due to my lateness in preparing this in order to meet the publishing deadline.    Let's just put it this way:  Having to fend off the repeated advances of a senior citizen "cougar", I can safely say there is no way in Hell I would want to be dating all over again.  Again, we will discuss it tomorrow. 

It's good to be back home.  Even with the Weirdo's, Whacko's, and Misfit's surrounding me.

It's Returning Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Returning Sunday.  Freako is doing well as the Vitamin D in the sun seems to have clarified his thinking.  As a result and in celebration, all of us at FTI are taking the day off.

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful to the environment) 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.

See you tomorrow.

Jukebox: I'm here and I Found it! Finally!

Eh, Excuse me Doc. Can you direct me to the Coachella Valley and the Carrot Festival, therein?

By the time this post is published, Mrs. Kfred and I will have jetted off to visit Freako Deako and his lovely wife for a long weekend.  I have purposely planned this event as a means to test the mettle and fortitude of our trustee, Giacommo.  I tend to think of it as kind of a "popquiz" for him and plan to use it as a method to test his resolve to continue on here at FTI.  I have pre-chosen tomorrow's decidedly low-tech Jukebox selection and advised local law enforcement of my absence,  so, he won't have those burdens.  He will, however, be charged with the tasks of deciding  which snack to serve the Misfits, deny any  knowledge of  the status of our overdue account with the local bail bondman, and to help Gummo the Balloon Boy get his "freak" back on.  (Editors Note:  We have no knowledge of what the last duty entails.  We simply transfer copy given to us.) 

As we are still working on a succession plan for the Executive Director  position here at the Institute, I am curious to see the results.  I have high expectations and am confident Giacommo is up to the task.  Failure, however, has it's own downside. Depending on the severity of any screw-up,  he will simply be assigned to sharpen pencils,  be broken down to the status of an ordinary Misfit,  or worse, banished from FTI and go back to dealing with Crazy.    None are options that an up and coming, enthusiastic, alternative thinker would aspire to.  On the other hand, this  is  FTI.  Regardless, I am not going to worry and simply enjoy my time away. 

Say, this place reminds me a lot of Alba-koy-kee.

This is what friends are for?

I note that upon my return from the "procedure", my friends, Non-Institute friends, and even the Misfits were not actually interested in my well being, but, just feigning interest in order to lob assorted insults and one liners in my direction.    Greetings such as 1) "did you have a poop-tastic day?", 2) "Hi Colon Kfred!", 3) "I heard you and your Doctor got married" and 4) "Did you chafe?" from the Rat Bastard G were part of my return.  Gummo the Balloon Boy sent me  an image of a Roto-Rooter truck earlier and wished me the best of luck. 

Under similar circumstances, women tend to show genuine empathy and care.  They  love to talk about childbirth and their various experiences while giving birth, but, they never insult one another or make fun  of it.  Men, on the other hand, just keep "piling" on insults when talking about vasectomies or colonscopies.   I assume all of these smart asses will, at one time or another, undergo this same procedure.   And believe me, I will be standing in line to dump on them twice as much as what they gave me.    But I do know, deep down, they do care. 

Bastards.

"Procedure" defined

A recap from yesterday's "procedure":  Upon arriving at the hospital and the pre-admission process, I was escorted back to my room for the prep process.  I must say, I was impressed with the accuracy and verification process as I had to recite my name, birthdate, Doctor's name, and the purpose of my visit 3 times to insure that I was indeed the right person whom was going to be administered the "procedure".  (They obviously could have benefited from having a  fully restored Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe like we have here at FTI.)    Following that, my nurse gave me an overview of what to expect  and a litany of questions concerning my health habits:  Do I smoke? Do I drink? (What?  Are you kiddin'?), etc.   Finally, a young Doogie Howser-like doctor comes into my room apologizing for carrying a cup of coffee ( I had been fasting for 36 hours to this point and would kill for coffee) and introduces himself.  We make the obligatory small talk and then I realize, "Here I am, handing my ass to a complete stranger with complete trust and absolutely no recourse if this whole thing goes south."

Wheeled back into the operating room, I am introduced to 2 female nurses, Sandy and Sherry.  Both are very pleasant types whom are going about their tasks with a very workman-like efficiency while chatting with me the whole time.  I once again have to verbally give them, my name, birthdate, and purpose of my visit to make sure they've got the right asshole (literally and figuratively) in front of them for the purpose at hand.  Satisfied I am who I claim to be and realizing I have now reached the point of no return, one of the nurses asks for authorization to begin the sedative.  Imagining myself as a poor man's  James Bond, I asked if it would be appropriate to try to fight the effects of the drugs.   All 3 exclaimed, "No!  This is the one time it's legal to enjoy drugs. "  The last thing I remember is to ask the 2 women was, "Now, you girls aren't going to peek, are you?"   The doctor pipes up, "Ah, don't worry.  After the first 30, the novelty kind of wears off."  We were all laughing and everything quickly fades to black. 

Re-emerging from the fog, I sense I am now back in my room with Mrs. Kfred rubbing my cold feet and a nurse offering me a glass of Sprite.  Apparently, the doctor has already come in , declared me "clean as a whistle, no problems, and good for another 10 years."  One of the narcotics given during the procedure causes an amnesia state where the patient does not remember anything.  Apparently during the procedure they had to administer some more anesthesia because of some discomfort.  I imagine this is why, I find out later,  I asked Mrs. Kfred 4 times what she had been doing during my absence,  I asked the doctor the condition of my appendix (?),  and I signed a statement acknowledging that I had been given care.  None of these events do I recall. 

So, that's it.  The Grand Event is over.  I am good to go and back in the saddle.  In celebration of success and as a little gift to myself, Mrs. Kfred are I headed south to visit Freako beginning Thursday for a couple of days.  A little warm weather, some sunshine,  a lot of wine.  I can't wait.   Other than Dickie the Peap, I don't know of anyone whom would sneak into a hospital to have this type of procedure willingly done to them voluntarily.  As a parting gift, I received 3 color images of the probed area.  I have no idea why I requested these during my "don't remember" stage, but, apparently I did.  I am thinking of including these in our newest brochure under the "Meet the Staff" section.  Do you think anyone one would question it? 

Define "Procedure"

It is presently Monday, 2:23 am PST. By the time that our 2 faithful readers read this, I will have returned home, finished, and resting from my procedure.   "Procedure";   1) according to Webster:  n.  a particular way of accomplishing something or of acting;  2) according to my doctor's office: a common, relatively painless medically related act to determine your colon-rectal health; 3) my version:   We're sticking a camera up your ass and not going to say so.

Why I am I writing this at this un-Godly hour?  I have to get up and finish the other half-gallon of orange flavored, slightly salty, stomach turning solution of water and powdered laxative to have me  cleaned out for the procedure.  I already drank the first half gallon earlier this evening resulting  in repeated trips to the bathroom ending in a steady stream of water coursing through my body.  Truly, it wasn't so bad.  I got the joy of taking some Magnesium Citrate earlier after dinner on Saturday evening.  Now THAT! was a treat.  A small 10 oz. bottle of this magical cherry elixir will cure what ails you.  I'm telling you, Ladies and Gentlemen, it cures  hangnails, it cures earwax, it cure...........I think you get the point.  After drinking that stuff, there isn't anything you suffer from which you would ever complain about again.   Everything comes streaming out of you at the same velocity as  that of a firehose downhill from the hydrant. Look out below!  I relay all of this information in advance of our FTI Healthcare Fair coming up  later in the springtime.    Each of the Misfits is to adopt a particular malady, do a bit of research,  man a booth to discuss the condition, and inform our participants of helpful information.  The fact that I am now undergoing this procedure will be my adopted cause.

We have decided to conduct the Healthcare Fair annually as a testament to our devotion to one another and to meet the terms of our original charter.   Ironically, and as a demonstration of our commitment to meet those terms,  Dickey the Peap volunteered to stand in for me for today's pending procedure as he has an affinity for these types of acts.  I gently reminded him it was my health being measured, and though I appreciated the interest and offer, I would undergo it on my own.   It actually brought a tear to my eye:  Our willingness to help out our fellow man knows no bounds.

It's Dehydration Sunday

Hey, it's Dehydration Sunday and in anticipation of tomorrow's medical procedure, we are preparing for the Grand Event.  Likewise,  the staff is also purging useless mental material and is taking the day off as well. 

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part.  Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful  to the environment)  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.

See you tomorrow.

Jukebox: Perhaps, better played on Sunday?

Medic!! We Need a Medic over here!

The entire FTI  currently seems to be (or is headed for) the Injured Reserve list shortly.    That fact  is worrisome to me as the all-important spring season will be upon us very shortly.  You see, springtime is when  the Misfits come out of their collective thinking hibernation and actually produce some type of thinking of actual value.  A quick review of this winter's past 3 months of posts would confirm the above statement and it is my hope as Executive Director that the quality of output rapidly improves.  Our recent addition of 2 new members should help in that department. 

A quick roster status update:   Slateface recently had a new pacemaker installed, and though it is classified as a relatively minor procedure in the surgery world, it does sideline him for a while.  We actually requested some type of cranial enhancement procedure as long as the surgeon was "in the neighborhood", but the medical prognosis was that it would be of little value.  Freako has returned South for treatment "vacation" and is medically unavailable.  The Rat Bastard G has been laid up with a bad back, twisted ankle, and severe dandruff.  His prognosis is strictly day to day.  Dickey the Peap is  paralyzed with fear to grab his wallet and is part of  clinical trials for a medication to combat alligator-arm syndrome.  Unfortunately, even I am subject to the downturn as today marks  Day 1 on my low fiber diet in preparation for an early  Monday colonoscopy appointment.  (NOTE TO FTI PERSONNEL:  Though verbal jabs, insults, and sophomoric attempts at literary superiority are expected, I will be documenting this behavior,  referencing such, and considering it during personnel evaluations later in the year).    I have never had this procedure performed before and am actually not worried over it as much as I am of the preparation that is required before.  I went to the pharmacy yesterday to get the required medication/laxative that I need to take on Sunday and even the pharmacist remarked, "Yeah, this stuff doesn't taste very good".    Oh boy, I can hardly wait.  

Hopefully, we can all get over this minor bump in the road to our ultimate goal of some sound thinking.  Like the finance guys always disclaim:  "Prior  results are not an indication of future activity".   I only hope that is not the case.   

It isn't fair

Are you kiddin' me?  I work my ass off all weekend with a non-functioning chainsaw to limb that damn tree, clean it up, haul away the branches, etc and then a spring windstorm knocks down 2 adjacent trees I couldn't get too?  What the hell is going on?

I wish there was a way to retaliate against Mother Nature and  punk her back because she sure fooled me. Twice.  Once with the tree thing and then again  by passing off our population as something resembling normal.  Ultimately, I wouldn't do that, though.     Like the old commercial used to say:  It's not nice to fool Mother Nature.

Nothing but work makes Kfred a dull boy

Though my position of Executive Director here at the Institute is primarily an administrative one, I do quite frequently get involved with actual physical activity  as well.  This weekend was a case in point. 

Along with some trees of my own, Mrs. Kfred has been "suggesting" to me that I talk to the owners of some neighboring property to inquire about cutting down one of their trees as well to open up a view corridor.  Though ensconced by a 6 foot barbed-wired topped fence, the compound  is on a hill side and we have a view to some water in the distance.  Taking down these trees would be an improvement on the view.  I successfully got permission and cut down the offending tree last weekend.  I returned this weekend to limb it and remove the cut boughs.  As demonstrated by the inability of FTI landscaping crew in the past to actually beautify matters, I was worried about them actually planting trees rather than taking them down.   None of the Misfits were available to help, so,  I undertook this little program upon by myself. 

My day started with a borrowed chainsaw that refused to start up.  Despite my numerous heroic efforts to coax the mechanical beast from it's  slumber of inactivity, it was not about to have any part of assisting me in my efforts.  So, with my best Paul Bunyan mindset, I set out to  limb a damn 50 foot tree with nothing but an Axe.  Successfully completing the majority of that task on Saturday, I returned yesterday to finish the job.  I consulted with the chainsaw owner overnight whom got the chainsaw operating and was ready to complete the task in record time.  Unfortunately, the chain on the chain saw was as dull as the collective IQ of our misfits and was of no value whatsoever.  (I swear I actually heard the tree giggle as I was attempting to cut it as I am sure if there is anything resembling tickling a tree, this would have  been it.)  Finally finishing this task, I again was given the "suggestion"  that  the lawn should be mowed before it rained.  Since this was the first mowing of the season, the yard resembled the first cutting of a prized alfalfa crop any farmer would be proud to claim.  2 hours later, that task was done.   Settling in  with a tall tumbler of gin and tonic, I had dinner, watched a bit of TV, and fell asleep in the chair in no time.

I relay these experiences to demonstrate that mine is not a glory position here at FTI; actual work is accomplished here on a periodic basis.  Unfortunately, none of it is a result of efforts by the Misfits.   Hopefully, we can someday  get the Misfits up to the level of actually pulling weeds to improve a yard versus collecting them as salad greens to eat at dinner. 

It's Green Sunday

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

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful to the environment) 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.

See you tomorrow.

The unpleasant Springtime Ritual

The FTI Legal/Finance team (rapidly becoming the second most reviled department here at FTI) has just informed me that they failed to "save" our 2009 tax statements and that I would again be need to be available for the 3 hour interview session for necessary information to prepare the documents. 

The fact that we as an organization are subject to possible payment of taxes, let alone that these idiots didn't record our meeting in the first place is astounding to me.  We produce no product,  output, or service of any tangible meaning.  As specified in our charter, our purpose is to "offer policy, analysis, and observations generated by the same staff that mental health professionals have identified as Weirdos, Whackos, and Misfits."  Part of the confusion is due to the finance teams inability to comprehend my position of the Institutes responsibility that when  I traded off the Institutes CRAP (Central Research, Analysis, and Policy) Vehicle from last year that I am now claiming it as a qualified deductible non-profit expense and this should have no bearing upon our current situation.    I also have to defend the act of having authorized the purchase of drool bibs and a golden silk,  highlighted with yellow rhinestones, ceremonial dunce's cap for use here at the Institute. 

I hate tax season. 

Jukebox: I think "Undesirable Ways" is the politically correct term

One step forward, one step back. Yeah, that's about right.

As posted earlier, we have added 2 new members here at FTI .  During the interview process, I had mentioned to both candidates that upon successful selection and subsequent appointments to their positions,  it would be beneficial  to attend  a simple FTI orientation  meeting to discuss our policies, practices,  and expectations.    Though not mandatory, I  have developed this overview session to help our new members immerse into the FTI "culture". 

Slateface was a no show.  This type of conduct  is not surprising to me as most of our staff have a very limited attention span and clearly have trouble following the simplest of directions. Obviously, he will meld into our population easily.    Giacommo, our  persistent affiliate, showed up at the appointed time, clean-shaven, freshly scrubbed, and determined to make a good initial impression.  Describing the parallel organization from which he arrived, I was immediately struck with his savvy, ability to comprehend a situation, and drive for excellence.  As a result, I have decided to assign him a "Trustee 1" status among our group.  (Giacommo, did inquire about the opportunities for advancement which, while commendable, I feel may be a bit premature as I have yet to see him fully interact with the balance of our staff.)  Subsequent appointments to "Trustee 11" or "Gopher-boy-to-Kfred 1" are certainly possible career goals for qualified candidates.     

I feel good about our latest additions.  As noted by the title of our post, we simply seem to tread water in the float down the river of excellence.  I wonder, however,  if the fact that  the compound has frontage  on a backwater eddy may have something to do with it. 

Organizational Announcement

I am pleased to announce that we have added 2 new affiliates to our team here at FTI  and look forward to their contributions to make FTI the success we have sorely waited for during our initial  creation and subsequent existence. 

Our newest misfit, Slateface, has been on the periphery edges of us here at Flatline Thinking for a long time. This same individual, though possessing a keen wit, is somewhat odd in his own right as evidenced by this earlier action photo of him playing golf. He does, however, bring a unique perspective to most issues and though we need another misfit like we need a hole in our head, his main duties will be to act as a counterbalance and "keeper of the fiscal dignity" in deference to the death-gripped wallet antics of Dickey the Peap.

An aggressive individual with obvious hidden problems, Giacommo, will also become a part of the FTI team primarily in a "trustee" status.  In 2005, Giacommo joined  a parallel organization and has contributed to improving that organization's  structure, personnel development, strategic planning and execution in this role. He has repeatedly asked to become a part of the FTI squad, but, we initially rebuffed Giacommo  as we felt his intellect and ability was considerably higher than  any of our staff.  His repeated insistence and determination could not be ignored, however,  and we are pleased to have him on board.   

Rather than relocating here to the FTI compound, both individuals will  remain where they currently reside and  contribute on a semi-regular basis. 

Please join me in conveying our best wishes and congratulations upon their affiliation with FTI.

It's tryout Sunday

In order to freshen the thinking and quality of conclusions arrived here, we are conducting Tryout Sunday.  Based on a startling revelation posted  in the comments section of this past Tuesday's effort, we are excited to announce the approval to add a new team member as authorized by the cheap-assed Board of Directors.    Think of it as kind of a reverse "American Idol" competition.

Part of the reason for Tryout Sunday is that the misfits can't seem to generate much worth reading; thats why we are always looking for candidates.  As proof, take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past.  I'm sure you will agree we need some new blood. 

See you tomorrow.

To quote the late Alexander Haig, " As of now, I am in control....."

Ah, the weekend is finally here and I have a chance to resume my normal duties here at the Institute.   Though sometimes disheartening, there is a distinct feeling of satisfaction knowing that my efforts to contain these idiots in a single location are appreciated by all people once they observe our team.  A simple, knowing, "Thank God it's you and not me" comment solidify my thoughts that my efforts are not in vain. 

I had some visiting authority from the National Chapter of Dilbertland in town for 3 days and  spent the majority of this week attending to the responsibilities associated with that.  In my absence, the Institute has been fairly quiet. A couple of non-issues: The Institute Olympics idea was quickly scuttled as the Misfits  just cannot master (do not have?) the abilities to assemble in one place to begin the opening march-in, let alone, compete in any meaningful events to determine some sort of "winner";   Freako  Deako is coming back from treatment vacation and has requested a meeting with  Mrs Kfred and me next week to discuss our upcoming visit to  Palm Springs in March (I am considering a satellite location for the Institute); and Dickey the Peap is still in hiding. 

On the horizon, I have been  meeting with the FTI finance department in regards to the preparation of our yearly tax statements.  Our original charter mandated our creation as an agreement between us and our State Attorney General's office as restitution on behalf of some indiscretions a few of our members.   As a result, we agreed to perform community service for an undetermined amount of time at no cost.  The  FTI legal team (whom got their ass handed to them recently by my personal lawyer, Shifty),  however, has questioned that arrangement and suggested we may indeed be liable for taxes.  Note to the FTI legal squad:  We pay you guys to help us avoid taxes, not pay them!  Idiots.

Staff evaluations, leave requests, planning for the Staff Summer picnic, a pending wedding.  All part of my upcoming duties.   Regardless, Mrs. Kfred and I are off this evening to see Goldilocks perform in her newest musical, "The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs" ( It must be good, the producers extended the run and added 4 more shows).   Just remember:  "Thank God, its you and not me".

Jukebox: A great soundtrack from a fun movie

Maybe the community cable access channel has some time to fill

Noting that the Winter Olympics are currently being held in the other Vancouver,  the subject was brought up at our staff meeting yesterday that perhaps we should have our own FTI Olympics for the staff to break up the midwinter "blah's" .  

The problem, however, lies in the development of appropriate events in which  our staff would compete.  The winter snowfall has been very light, so,  the ability to make snow orderlies  is out.  The FTI wastewater treatment facility never freezes over and  is not large enough for short track speed skating.  When notified via email, Dickie the Peap volunteered to take over the concession duties as he immediately saw the opportunity to gouge visitors on overpriced parking, lodging, and food charges as a means to add to his already bulging personal fortune.    In desperation, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, suggested apartment hunting as an exhibition event.  That suggestion was soundly rejected.    

I have noticed a marked decrease in the quality of thinking produced lately and feel some type of mental diversion is in order to help our team.  I am concerned however about our team uniforms.  It will be very difficult to identify one another as the events are happening  because the white jumpsuits tend to blend together.  We already have a hard time keeping track of this bunch as stupidity does not seem to have  a particular standout trait.   During our rehearsals for the opening ceremony, the misfits came marching in  the wrong end of the FTI compound.  This is definitely not a made-for-TV moment. 

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 endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part.  Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful  to the environment)  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.



See you tomorrow.

Time for some quick R & R

Mrs. Kfred and I are going to the ocean for the weekend with some friends. The Institute is located about 2 hours from the beach and since springtime has been darting about lately, I thought I would combine both and enjoy them together. 

The misfits have been behaving themselves and have recently surfaced.  Dickey the Peap is still on the lam, but, has contacted me privately to notify me of his whereabouts.  For the time being, he has chosen to take a room at a transient hotel 1000 miles away where he doesn't need to worry about losing his pants.  Gummo, the Balloon Boy, is out looking for somewhere  to stay as he was recently notified that he would need to move from where he lived before spending time with us.   He has been eyeing various locales and should have a decision between the Kitchen-Aid refrigerator packing box and the  spacious bridge bulkhead under the freeway  shortly.   (Knowing that impulsive Gummo, he will probably shoot the budget and upgrade to the abandoned school bus in the junkyard, instead.)

I have left instructions with the cheap-assed Board of Directors that they are on their own if any problems occur in the next 48 hours as  I will not be returning phone calls or be accessible via e-mail.   Like the staff, I too, occasionally try to break the tether of today's various electronic communication devices.  Unlike the staff, mine aren't wrapped around my ankles. 

But the song is certainly sane

Trade talks are heating up

While certainly having my hands full here at FTI with the present staff, I feel that I can handle the duties of managing and overseeing our collection of bumblers.    Though not a career aspiration that a normal person would aspire, there seems to be an odd infatuation surrounding our organization.  Some people actually DO want to be associated with us.  In the past, we have had some veiled and not-so-veiled  inquiries to joining the FTI network, but, I felt the caliber of thinking exhibited by the individuals inquiring  was certainly superior to our staff and I didn't think they would be a good fit. 

A director at a parallel type of organization, Giacomo, has brought to my  attention a candidate whom he feels would be a good fit here at FTI.  Like me, Giacomo has extensive experience in dealing with odd personalities and inconsistent behaviors, irrational ideas, and  unexplained absences.  He feels his candidate, CrazY, would fit in well and has suggested he be placed here.  I am well aware of the behaviors of Crazy, considered this notion for a total of about 15 seconds, and immediately decided against the same.  C'mon!  CrazY?!  The name alone implies trouble. 

Probably surprising to most readers, FTI is not part of a larger "league".  Directors of various facilities do not sit around and offer to trade staff members on a regular basis.  We don't attempt to measure which organization is more ill-suited for normalcy versus one another.  The only competition we are a part of is to avoid the race to the bottom.  Unfortunately, FTI has been at the bottom of the standings since it's inception and I don't see any imminent change in the near future.   Like our own Freako Deako, we all have  members whom typify our organizations.   We don't need another whack-job.  With deference to my esteemed colleague, no thank you. You keep CrazY.

Never doubt the power of the internet

While doing some deep analysis yesterday in studying the traffic patterns that direct readers  to the FTI website, I noticed a disturbing event that bears mentioning.  

We had a visitor yesterday whom performed a Google search that resulted in their arrival at our site.  This would not normally bear any further mention except for the odd phrase that was used to bring them here in the first place.  The reader (and I am not making this up) searched for the phrase "what do 12 monkeys and flatliners have in common?".   As proof, I challenge our 2 faithful readers to verify  by checking  here.  Right there.  There it is, the third subject down.  (I assume this posting will generate a "hit" as well since I am using those key words.  )

I began thinking:  What DO 12 monkeys and flatliners have in common and why would a Google search refer them here?  The answer:  we do have similarities! For instance, we have a core squad of 6 idiots whom are of basically the same intelligence level as 12 monkeys.  Monkeys are the "clowns" of the zoo; our team are the clowns of the community.  Monkeys scratch themselves in private places in public spaces; so do our guys.  Monkeys are kept in compounds for observation.  We have 2 readers that observe our team of idiots.

The internet has changed information gathering and how we learn in the few years of it's existence.  I only wish I had known about it's power before I arrived here at FTI.  Had I done so, I would have bought a couple of monkeys. 

An alternative Alice in Wonderland adventure

Having served my 10 Day suspension for still unknown reasons, I am now back and resuming full duties as Executive Director here at FTI.  The legal agreement that my lawyer, Shifty, negotiated prevents me from commenting about specifics of the charges in the first place.  I can state, however, that I can continue to make fiscally related budgeting behavior comments about the Board of Directors with no impunity, whatsoever.

Let's review some of the damage that occurred during my absence:

1)  The Friday jukebox franchise was tarnished with the playing of the 1980's Japanese science fiction commercial.  I have no idea what the idiots were trying to promote or display other than the Godzilla vs. Rodan movies of the 50's may indeed have been the pinnacle of Japanese entertainment. 

2)  The Sunday "green " policy, so carefully tended and cultivated, was trampled and uprooted by Gummo the Balloon Boy along with a threat to "pants" a fellow staff member, "that Nancy-Boy" Dickey the Peap.

3)  The Green Comic is flatout not funny.   

4)    The Hayward family's quiet, white picket fence, suburbia enjoying, existence and  anonymity were shattered when realizing life had dealt them  a cruel blow  by being associated with our band of do-nothings.  The stain of idiocy by association will never be cleansed.  I am sorry for you.

and finally,

5)  This site has been characterized as a "Mommy" blog.  Nothing sully's the FTI reputation for cutting edge analysis, observation, and policy direction worse than to be grouped in with writings of cupcake recipes and mini van mishaps. 

An update of the staff: The two main instigators of the damage,  Gummo, the Balloon Boy and Rat Bastard G, are nowhere to be found.  Dickie the Peap is on the lam somewhere fearing he may lose his trousers.  Freako Deako still has 20 treatments days left on his 45 day "vacation", Commando Barney is still pouting over the Minnesota Vikings probable loss of Brett Favre next season, and Marv the Neighbor just  eliminated a potential picnic menu item with less than favorable results by experimentally deep frying  a cat.    (C'mon!  The cat was dead in the first place.)

While I was gone, I met someone whom asked how I would best describe this entire FTI episode.  The best parallel I can think of is that we are something like the World Wrestling Entertainment outfit:  We've got pretty boys and we have villains.   We just don't have feathered boa's.

It's success Sunday!!

After marathon negotiations lasting all day yesterday and deep into the evening last night, I am pleased to announce a breakthrough in the impasse!  The cheap-assed Board of Directors agreed to reinstate me at my old position as Executive Director of FTI.  Our amiable agreement does not allow me to share details of our settlement (those bastards;  I'll eventually expose them for the 2 faced SOB's they truly are!) other than allowing me to express my satisfaction in the effort of both sides.   

In the meantime,  we have re-instituted our "green" policy here at FTI.   Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful to the environment) 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.

See you tomorrow.

Change is in the wind

Shifty, my lawyer, just called me early this morning after an all night negotiating session with the cheap-assed FTI Board of Directors discussing my reinstatement as Executive Director at FTI.  Evidently, they and the Hayward family have had enough  embarrassment and ridicule as a result of the losers trying to run the FTI website during my still undisclosed forced departure that there seems to suddenly be a sense of urgency to make some changes.    Though nothing concrete has been agreed to, he assures me that things are beginning to move.  I can't confirm if he was  talking about the pace of negotiations concerning my return or the desires for  "regularity" by the particpants.  Regardless, there should be a breakout event in the next few hours.

As best as I can determine, there was some  unhappiness with me for constantly referring to the Board with the adjective, "cheap-assed".   A couple of members got in a snit and decided that costs could be further cut by determining that my services were no longer desired and to let the staff takeover running the website.     That plan came to a screeching halt, however, when they realized that once the Weirdo's, Whacko's,  and Misfits took control of the website, the FTI organization not only was subject to total humiliation and ridicule, but also, legal persecution as witnessed by the threatened suit brought forth by the Hayward's attorney.

I have investigated a few changes I can implement in the near future and will certainly become a bit more respectful of upper management and the staff in general.  In particular, the phrases "ass-clown",  "dipwad", and "scumface" will no longer be used by me in describing the staff or Board  ( I have instructed Shifty to negotiate to allow me to continue to use "cheap-assed", however).  During my time off, I have had time for some self-reflection and realize I have made mistakes as well.  After all, calling our staff stupid would be an insult to stupid people.


 

Jukebox: The circus is definitely back in town

The unkindest cut of all

Kfred here and I'm not happy! 

A reader surmises that this site has become a MOMMY BLOG!? What in the Hell is going on here?  You bastard's actually stole someone else's blog material and put it out as your own??!  A nice, sweet family page by the Haywards, hijacked and commandeered, all for the purpose of filling space? 

For the past week, I have witnessed the general deterioration and  utter destruction of the FTI website.  What was once mostly askew is now totally unhinged and rapidly revealing itself to be the true trainwreck I have worked so hard to hide.  I can only imagine the shock and disappointment the Hayward family feels of knowing their posts have been pirated by the caretaker idiots at FTI.   

Though still serving a suspension for unknown reasons, I have a moral obligation to make some apologies: 

To the Haywards:  my deepest apologies.  If I were you, I would seek legal council and sue for pain and embarrassment damages for  being associated with these losers.

To our 2 loyal readers (if you are still there):  Though quality has never been a strong suit of the thinking produced by FTI, I can assure you that had I been in charge of posts these past few days, the level of subject material would be slightly higher.  Without setting the bar at a potentially never-attainable level, I emphasize the adjective, "slightly."

And lastly to the blogosphere community at large: I apologize for having assembled this group of losers and for actually thinking that  they even had the ability to  accomplish these types of deeds.  This is the same team that wears Velcro latched shoes versus shoes with actual laces, for God's sake.  And we haven't even begun to discuss the personal hygiene issues.  These losers are helpless and in need of a bath. 

Shifty is in negotiation currently with the cheap-assed FTI Board of Directors to have my suspension dropped and to be immediately reinstated.  Based on what I've seen in the last week, I think our bargaining leverage will have greatly increased.  For the Hayward's sake, let's hope so.

Hey, this is getting tough. We'll just borrow someone else's stuff.

Hey, The Green Comic here. We are all sharing the responsibility for putting stuff up  here. Of course,  I  have nothing original to add, so, will do what  I do best:  Use someone else's stuff.  Hope you want to learn about Gingerbread houses.

I have always wanted to make a gingerbread house from scratch. I found an awesome recipe online so I decided to give it a shot this year. Isaac helped me make the gingerbread on Saturday. Tony made the templates and cut out the house and we all helped decorate it! I think it turned out great! Maybe this will become a yearly tradition here..

Not quite as easy as it looks, is it?

Ok, so this gig is a little more work than we originally thought , but we can do it.    To prove out abilities, allow me to introduce one of the funniest guys I know.  Ladies and Gentlemen!  The Green Comic!!

"Thanks, Gummo.  Hey, Hey, Hey Ladies and Gentlemen!  Great to be here!    A SALESMAN  RINGS A DOORBELL, AND A YOUNG BOY ANSWERS THE DOOR WEARING A LONG VELVET GOWN,  A STRING OF PEARLS, A BLONDE WIG,  AND HOLDING A MARTINI.  THE SALESMAN ASKS, "ARE YOUR PARENTS HOME"?  THE BOY ASKS, " WHAT DO YOU THINK"?

"OK, OK, how about, MY GIRLFRIEND HAS ANOREXIA. YEAH I'M SEEING LESS AND LESS OF HER!!"

So Green is still working on his material, but, I'm telling you, the guy is hilarious. Hey, Rat.  Any progress on finding that Peap character?  Do we have anyway to track him.  Perhaps, his wallet?  Oh, that's right.  A wallet to the Peap is like a crucifix to a vampire.  Toxic. 

Well, I'm telling you, we can run this site without any supervision.  We're working on it. 

(EDITORS NOTE:  The above was submitted and posted as written.  We are here strictly for grammatical and factual accuracy.  We direct you to leave any complaints concerning quality of content  with the cheap-assed FTI Board of Directors.)

A message from exile

Kfred here.  

I am able to remotely access the FTI site due to the continuing ineptness of the FTI IT department ( the most reviled department at FTI) and it's know-nothing staff.  As noted in an earlier post, our delay in upgrading to Windows '95 on the FTI server has allowed me this opportunity to exploit the on-line security mechanism (password: dillweed) to communicate with you,  the 2 loyal FTI followers.

A quick update on our status to date:  I am rested, relaxed, but sadly, witnessing the complete meltdown of the FTI site for the past 3 days.  I have spent time on  maintenance duties of the Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe as it seized up while analyzing the statements posted by the band of idiots.  Dicky the Peap's comment of support, in particular, caused the electronic marvel to smoke, buzz, and whir until I was able to unplug it.  I do note that the staff portrayal of  him as a "Nancy-Boy, Kiss-ass"  was fairly accurate.  I can only assume the Peap was espousing this type of opinion as he mistakenly thought there would be a pending paid lunch on the horizon.  I remind you, Mr. Peap, the next scheduled  lunch meeting will be on your nickel.  (Dicky the Peap:  the only guy I know who  makes copper wire by playing tug-a-war with a penny.)  Otherwise, he would be back to the regular routine  of character bashing and indifference of my authority. 

My legal council, Shifty, is plotting a strategy for my return with full exoneration.  In the meantime, I thank you 2 faithful readers for your continuing support, encouragement, and best wishes.  One noted reader went so far as to question the seemingly addiction of following this site in the first place.  The only answer I can surmise is that the human curiosity is fickle:  Patterned after our real life inspiration from long ago, when the sideshow comes to town, you gotta go see it.  Ripley's Believe it of Not has nothing on us.   

Look it up yourself

It's Sunday and  we aren't working.   In fact, we might not be back for a while.

And that green stuff?  That's a bunch of crap.   If you want to look something up from the past, look here .  In the meantime, me and the boys are looking for that Nancy-Boy, Kiss-ass, Dicky the Peap.  When we locate him, me and the rest of the squad  are gonna "pants" him.   

We might be back tomorrow.

At least it's not a Mommy blog

Since we are now in charge of Flatline Thinking, we are announcing a new direction for this blog.  There will be no more comments about our abilities, shortcomings, or embarrassing events we've committed.

You might have seen some changes already.  We put up our favorite video yesterday and can promise you more of the same in the future.  Marv, the Neighbor is working on some safety tips for cooking deep fried turkey (almost thawed=bad), The Green Comic has already located some previously told jokes from the 70's that he hasn't posted,  and The Rat Bastard G and I are figgerin' to change the name of this blog so it reflects something else.  We're working on a name that would center around the daily lives of a group of people and their daily existence.    We don't have a name yet, but, before he got suspended , Kfred had suggested  a couple: Little Minds, Big World; Last, and  Weirdos, Whacko's and Misfits, oh My!  Maybe that is why the dumbass got suspended.  What do you have to say for yourself now Mr. Bigshot? 

That's the way it's gonna be around here from now on.  Since nobody but the same 2 people reads this thing anyways, the change shouldn't matter. 

Signed,

Gummo the Balloon Boy

Jukebox: We are in charge now

Will it be a paid leave?

I have been officially notified that I am on suspension as Executive Director of FTI for an indefinite period .    I just received the notification last night and have been relieved of all supervisory duties of the staff until further notice.  I'm not quite sure of the official reasoning, but then, nothing around here makes a whole hell of a lot of sense. 

The largest benefactor here at FTI happened to take take offense at my 60 minutes  posting a week ago where I was able to sit down and "get inside of the heads" of a couple of our members.  Apparently, the interview seemed to be the breaking point as it made our staff  look a little "less cerebral" (the benefactor's words) than what they truly are.  I thought it to be an accurate portrayal of our abilities and had no problem in publishing the results.  (Ironically, this morning, a past affiliate made the national news with his well thought out exploits.  This is the caliber of our team. )  I was summoned to an emergency meeting of the cheap-assed Board of Directors and given the news late last night.

I do value my position here at the Institute and plan to fight this punishment vigorously.  I have retained legal council and look forward to my vindication.    There is no clear chain of command here at FTI other than me because no one else is dumb enough to get mixed up with this tribe in the first place.  I assume the staff will be free to produce and publish their own policy and positions for the foreseeable future.  I do caution the readership, however, that you may be disappointed with the results.   Their last  attempt was to write a note, describe themselves and their various ages, place it in a bottle, toss it into the nearest body of water, and see how far the message would travel until someone contaced them.  Unfortunately, they threw it  in the ornamental FTI wishing well.  To date, no one has responded.

Partly Cloudy with a few sunbreaks

Groundhog Day has turned into one of the Holidays I absolutely dread.  The pageantry, spectacle, store ads announcing rodentcide sales, and the grandeur of the day has been increasingly ruined by the squabbling, hair-pulling,  and petty jealousy exhibited by the staff over who gets to be in the front of the crowd of our own local display to see the little rodent make his appearance.  Additionally, the days leading up to the second day of February are  filled with me constantly reassuring our team that, "Yes, we will go get a milkshake afterward",  or, "Now, now, don't worry. No one is going to try to make a hat out of him".   

In anticipation of the nervousness and anxiety brought on the staff, one of the members of the cheap-assed Board of Directors bought the above training device from a defunct Romanian carnival sideshow 2 months ago thinking that the staff could use it to train in advance and to get a feel for the fleeting moments that the groundhog actually makes his appearance.  It was hoped for that they would be more relaxed when the actual event occurred.  Unfortunately, the unit has been hung up in Customs and yet to clear quarantine.  Thus, the nervousness and anxiety continues. 

I am pleased to report, however, that our full supply of rubber suction cup tipped arrows arrived safely and we are currently  in training for Valentines Day.

Have you seen my nuts?

Desperate times drive people  to  desperate measures. These hard economic times have forced many people to re-evaluate the basics of life and adjust their priorities in order to meet them.  Less consumption, fewer luxuries, more self-reliance;  all methods  used to cope with economic conditions most of us have never experienced. 
Let me illustrate by example:  Mrs.  Kfred is involved on a search committee at her place of employment to find a suitable candidate to fill an opening they  employ.  The position is a low level staff position that requires a Bachelors Degree and 2 years of relevant experience with a salary in the low $30's range plus benefits.  All in all, not a bad job, but not exactly one that is going to make one rich, either.  Yet, the candidates have been pouring out of the woodwork for this position.  People with Masters degrees, Ph.d  levels, doctoral candidates.  The spectrum is endless.   I was naive to think that we at FTI  were insulated from this type of activity.  After all who would want to join us?

In the past 2 weeks, I have been approached by two different individuals hinting about joining our organization.  The caliber of these 2 particular types is certainly superior to the staff we currently employ.  Their presence here would greatly improve and raise the level of analysis we deliver on a daily basis.  Figuring these 2 would be a solid addition to our team, even if it meant for a short while, I approached the cheap-assed Board of Directors over the weekend to see if we could squeeze some extra dollars out of our budget to secure the intellectual properties exhibited by these individuals.  Unfortunately, our normal springtime Intellectually Diverse Intelligence Oriented Team-member (IDIOT)  recruitment drive has been canceled this year.  Apparently, one of the low level staffers deep inside our own FTI bureaucracy "accidentally" authorized the purchase of over 2000 Slap Chop  kitchen tools as holiday gifts and we are now trying to pay the bill off.  As a result, we are in no position to add staff this year. 

I informed both candidates that unfortunately, FTI was in no position to add positions at this time.  Both took the news well, accepted a small token of gratitude from  FTI  for their interest,  and went on their way.  Happy.  Excited.  Fulfilled.  After all, they now know that they just have to add a little onion and celery to some tuna and POW!  Instant tuna salad.