Jukebox: One Bad Mutha'

Dude, try one of these

This is one of the substances Mrs. Kfred has banned here at FTI.

I suppose the fact that he couldn't see straight for days would turn out to be an inconvenience.

"Vancouver! Vancouver! This is it!"

A pause for a little reflection..........Today marks the 30th anniversary of the eruption of Mount St. Helens. Of all of nature's various displays of it's force and power, a volcanic eruption is one of it's most potent. The title to this post is the last transmission of the scientist monitoring the mountain, David Johnston, made to alert his fellow scientists. Johnston died as a result of the blast.

30 years ago, I was living 300 miles east of the mountain and remember the day vividly. The mountain had been rumbling a few months earlier with periodic small eruptions but nothing that was considered terribly harmful. I thought that I lived far enough away that I would not be impacted in any way. Then early that Sunday morning, a radio bulletin announced that a full eruption was occurring. At the time, people had no idea of what the impact would be on anyone.

From 300 miles away, allow me to describe the events of that day. Darkness came at 3 pm as all of the streetlights lit up, the sky rained ash for 8 hours, auto parts stores were swamped with customers looking for air filters for their vehicles, TV news warned that breathing the abrasive ash would be harmful to your lungs (everyone had cheap face mask filters hanging on the rear view mirrors of their cars the next day and for 3 months after). If you have ever emptied your woodstove or fireplace of the ash and realize the mess in that small firebox area, imagine cleaning the entire surface area of the parking lot of your business, the outdoor tennis court, or your small patio at home. Cars were covered, equipment was covered, anything outdoors had up to 3 inches of the gritty ash; your indoor space had a heavy layer of dust; it was a mess. Trying to hose it down with water simply made a thick mud. Trying to blow it out with a blower just made a blinding cloud. There was only one way to clean it up: with a snow shovel and broom. And it was heavy. Yet, everyone knew that this was a rare occurrence and took it in stride. (I threw away the authentic St Helens ash Mrs. Kfred had saved at the time a couple of years ago. I caught holy hell for that one, but, could still easily replace it today by dumping the remains of a cigarette ash tray in to a jar. Ash is ash.)

Eventually, 57 deaths were attributed to the blast and ensuing damage. At the time, the entire area around the mountain was considered a dead zone. Scientists were worried the area would be barren for the unforeseeable future. Nature, however, (being much wiser than man) had other plans. As shown below in these two pictures, much has changed. The mountain is slowly rebuilding it's dome to once again explode in the future, plants and wildlife flourish, and the entire area is a working laboratory for the scientific community. If you ever get a chance to visit, I encourage you to do so. You simply will not be disappointed.

How about this one. Will it work?

The FTI grounds-keeping crew normally does an exemplary job in keeping the compound appearing neat, clean, and well landscaped. They do this at my direction in order to give visitors the appearance that all is normal here and since "the first impression is the best impression," we won't scare anyone off before we can fully explain what our mission here really consists of. As yesterday was Sunday and the staff is off on that day, it was decided that perhaps a trip to the local nursery to update some of the landscaping features may well be in order. Doubling as both the Safety and Beautification Officer here at FTI, Mrs Kfred ordered encouraged me to tag along and confirm any choices she made. While finishing the shopping, I went and loaded the truck and she went to pay the bill. Here is where she got the true taste of what I experience on a daily basis.

While trying to pay for the plants, she attempted to do so with a prepaid rebate card issued to me from Verizon Wireless after having recently bought a new cellular telephone . One of the enticements of the phone in the first place was that a $100 rebate would be extended to me via a debit card. Presenting it for payment, she was told that the card had no balance left on it and that it was being declined. I had originally given it to her to use when I received it and she knew there was still an approximate $50 balance on it having it used it only once previously, so, was puzzled and embarrassed over the whole incident. She came out to the parking lot and insisted that I call Verizon and complain that they were cheating us, not taking care of the customer, etc. I told here perhaps we should try the card elsewhere just to confirm there was a problem. A stop at the grocery store confirmed that, indeed, the card had a remaining balance and we purchased some groceries with no difficulty whatsoever. Obviously something was wrong. A mistake, an oversight, a screw-up.

This same type of description could be listed in the personal biographies of the staff of our Institute personnel directory. Coincidence? I think not.

It's retread Sunday

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

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


The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

You mean Best Buy and Victoria's Secret both stock it?

Leave it to one of our own to further advance the cause of technology:

Marv, the Neighbor has been working on a technology concept that he thinks could revolutionize music as we know it. Far be it from me to stealing his thunder. I share with you the recent email he sent me.

Kfred:

I am working on developing a new product I feel may have mass appeal around the globe and plan on offering it to the Apple Corporation. The concept is basically a breast implant that can store and play music. The "iTit" will cost from $499 to $699, depending on cup and speaker size. This is considered a major social breakthrough, because women are always complaining about men staring at their breasts and not listening to them. What do you think?

Marv, The Neighbor

Hey, our guys actually do come up with some winners every once in a while.

Jukebox: Some Friday Soul

Maybe we ought to offer membership to the Stork

A new little Misfit is on it's way.

While visiting with the various Misfits yesterday, (which doubles as an opportunity to assess each of their individual progress) I was notified by Slateface that Mrs. Slateface is 6 weeks pregnant and that they are expecting a child in January. This is a particularly happy occasion for all of us here at FTI as Slateface is one of our newest members of the Institute. There had been considerable nay-saying among the rest of our staff that he shouldn't have been holding hands with the Mrs. Slateface in the first place. Regardless, after a quick, thrown-together, 6th grade level of basic biology, the rest of the Misfits were satisfied with the explanation of events leading to this milestone and went about their ways.

I congratulated Slateface, inquired whom the father was, and wished him well on the journey to Fatherhood. I began to advise him of the great joys and responsibilities of Fatherhood; that it was a great journey and that he would enjoy it. He stopped me in mid-sentence and mentioned that he had already been dressed as a priest at a Halloween party years ago and felt this was sufficient experience.

We have extended his scheduled departing date from FTI another 2 years.

A note from our HR department

Though I am Executive Director here at FTI and answer to only one higher authority (Mrs. Kfred), until our long term funding is secure, I have to supplement my income via outside sources. Enter my position as a member of a company complete with all of the related bureaucratic policies and procedures including annual employee evaluations. Realizing the value of such an exercise, I have been thinking of trying to develop a type of performance measurement for our FTI staff as well. It's the details that have got me stuck. My problem with creating the "FTI Yardstick of Excellence" program is that our members are more than 2-1/2 feet short in achievement. Consistently down the line in every category of possible achievement, (comprehension, creativity, initiative, ability to identify basic shapes), our losers are consistently categorized as "Needs Severe Improvement". This is troubling if we are ever to achieve the type of renown and reputation we desire.

Until that time, I will have to be satisfied with the "Exceeds Expectations" rating each one of the Misfits earned in one category: Acts of Stupidity Performed on a Daily Basis.

and Free Entertainment, too

Having witnessed the Cirque de Soleil show last night with Mrs. Kfred, I now realize that we here at FTI are at a serious disadvantage with other deep thinking organizations. Of course, our task is not to juggle, balance, leap, or defy death as the performers in that show exhibit on a daily basis, but rather as noted in our original charter, to "offer policy, analysis, and observations" of life events.

Our upcoming membership pledge drive will be a good test of our group. Realizing that our main goal during this event is to find wealthy benefactors to support our ongoing thinking here at FTI, the entertainment portion of our presentation is going to have to be top class. Let's face it, however; people want and need to be entertained. This means a total revamp or our events scheduled to date. For instance, permitting Gummo the Balloon Boy to tie anatomically correct latex characters might not be appropriate. Having Dickie the Peap guessing the weight of our attendees after asking them to empty their pockets of all items, "including any heavy wallets", is only asking for trouble. Marv the Neighbor offering deep-fried cat snacks probably isn't going to attract the target audience we desire.

The Cirque business model is obviously a highly successful one that we could certainly emulate- to a certain point. I don't think the " Rat Bastard G: Its a State of Mind" t-shirts would sell very well.

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.


The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Yeah, but who cleans up after the elephants?

Mrs. Kfred and I are preparing to go to a performance of Cirque du Soleil's Kooza under the Bigtop arena with some friends tomorrow evening. We have seen a couple of their other shows previously and never tire of the performances. It truly is a one of a kind type of show. Among the characters in the show are the Trickster, the King, the Pickpocket, and the Bad Dog. Each of these characters are integral to the show and represent individuals that the main character, the Innocent, encounters on his journey to find his place in the world.

In viewing the advance summary on the show, I have come to realize similarities and actual parallels of my life in dealing with the Misfits as to this show itself. Due to the extreme personality profiles of our Misfits, I can envision our own version performed here at the FTI compound without the high ticket prices and certainly just as entertaining. Easily substituting myself as the Innocent, the coincidences are striking: Gummo, the Balloon Boy could effortlessly play the Idiot, Freako Deako portrays the Nut, Dickie the Peap is hands down the Skinflint, and Kommando Barney is easily cast as a body double for Mr. T. My able bodied assistant, Giacommo, would act as Ringmaster, and also perform a small piece by instructing Crazy to climb a set of stairs, climb into a Vanishing Box, and be gone for the entire rest of the show.

The more I think about this, however, I guess it wouldn't be too feasible. The cheap-assed Board of Directors only authorized the purchase of a 2 man puptent.

Jukebox: Thank God for the Pictures

A rich, rewarding experience awaits you

As part of our ongoing commitment to the community, the cheap-assed Board of Directors have instructed me to explore the possibility of having summer interns placed here at the Institute on a temporary, nonpaid (would you expect anything else?) basis. I have been in contact with the local branches of higher education to offer our facility as a site for placement of young people looking to expand their experience in their various fields of study. To date, we have not received any return calls of interest or inquiry.

Upon reflection, I have been informed by my highly educated assistant, Giacommo, that perhaps our site may not be as desirable as some others for the interns we seek. Competing with the likes of local government, industry, and charitable foundations, our lure and prestige as an organization may not be as great. Accordingly, we have decided to "rebrand" our summary description one could expect to experience as an intern. Something about "Summer at FTI: It's like Costa Rica with Weirdos" doesn't seem to be getting it done.

We're not another "one and done" team

Not only am I the Executive Director here at FTI, but, my duties also include doubling as coach of the FTI Knowledge Bowl Team. Each year a competition is held for various organizations and their associated deep thinkers. As this is our first year of competition, and based on our reputation, the FTI team was granted an automatic berth as a demonstration of compassion, charity, and inclusiveness by the organizers of the event. Based on some of the preliminary questions that were suggested for practice, we may be slated for an early exit. My guess: sometime immediately after the first question of "Welcome. Are you all here?"

The competition itself is twofold: a little friendly rivalry between think-based organizations for bragging rights of intelligence superiority and to offer possible solutions to some of the pressing problems of today. The idea is to collect some of the best and brightest, test them on the needs of society at the moment, and hopefully come up with some alternative solutions. Based on our initial answers to the warm-up question, I have instructed my assistant, Giacommo, to keep the engine warm on the FTI van as I don't think the TEAM FTI representatives will be on the winners podium. Here's the question: "In light of the recent ecological disaster occurring in the Gulf area with the out-of-control gushing oil well, in a simple world, how would you deal with this mess?"


Gummo, the Balloon Boy: "Get some Bounty Towels. It's the quicker picker-upper."

Rat Bastard G: "Dump a tanker-load of Dawn Dish detergent into the ocean. It fights grease and oil."

Marv, the Neighbor: "Is it vegetable or peanut oil?"

Dickie the Peap: "Who else can pay for it?"

Kommando Barney: "Oh, I know this one. The Beatles."


I am seriously thinking of entering our guys into the competitive knitting competition sponsored by the Ladies Aid Society at the local church next month. God help those old bats.

It's Bloomsday Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Bloomsday Sunday (look it up) and Gummo the Balloon Boy should be running today. We're out cheering him on.

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.

................zzzzzzz.......ha-ha.............

This forum is normally one used to relay and re-tell the experiences in my life and the Misfits associated with it. Usually, the Misfits are not cast in a very flattering light as their abilities are, well, less than noteworthy and not eligible to be used as a point of pride. Today, however is different. I experienced something the other night like no other and want to share it.


Among a human's basic needs are sleep, food, and sex. (As I get older, the order of importance changes, but they still remain the same. We can discuss this later. ) Anyways, while enjoying a deep restful night's sleep, I actually awoke literally laughing. You see, in my dream, I was in a hospital room with Gummo, the Balloon Boy. I think I was visiting Gummo as he was in the bed and I was standing talking to him. I don't know what he said in the dream, but it made me laugh so hard that I actually remembering waking from the slumber. I actually also awoke Mrs. Kfred whom relayed to me that she noted I was lying on my back, arms over the top of my head, completely asleep and laughing. The feeling associated with this is absolutely incredible; I have never experienced this before.

When I finally awoke in the morning, the skies were cloudy, the guy on the radio said we were heading for a blistering high of 59, and showers were on the way. It didn't matter. I felt rested, positive, optimistic, and ready to take on the day. It was an amazing feeling. All due to the antics of one of the Misfits. I guess they actually do serve a purpose.

Jukebox: We all Pay the Cost at Some Time

Man on the Moon, Fall of the Berlin Wall, and Now this?

I had lunch with Dickie the Peap yesterday and it truly was a momentous occasion. Ok, maybe not as dramatic as the title suggests, but c'mon, anytime Dickie Boy pays, it is a cause for note. In fairness, I have to be completely honest: Dickie does buy alternately when we go to lunch. It's just that the act of getting him to voluntarily pull out the wallet without having to be reminded is the part that is so amazing.

We usually end up going to a familiar place most of the time, so much that, we are recognized by the waitstaff as, "Oh. It's you two". This is more of a commentary on the fact that they know that it is a complete crapshoot for any type of tip to be left depending on who is going to be responsible for the bill. When I pay, I am not afraid to leave a token of my appreciation and reward for good service. In the past few training lunches we have conducted to get Alligator Arms conditioned to hosting, the concept of an additional amount for the server has never been fully grasped. It seems to be a memory thing.

Regardless, the lunch was good, the beer was cold, and I will schedule another lunch meeting in the future. Of course, at that time, it will be my turn to buy. I've already been reminded. I guess the memory thing was fixed.

Is that craft fitted with the proper number of lifejackets?

Sometimes the best intentions go astray due to lack of proper planning.

This suspiciously sounds like something that one of our guys would do. If I didn't have the ability to run it from such a distance, I would recommend to the cheap-assed Board of Directors that we open a European branch as well since there is an obvious population that would guarantee our existence. I've got my hands full here, however.

Its Tough Relaying Your Message

Most non-profit organizations, like FTI, constantly struggle with the task of developing a message to educate the community concerning the work and results they achieve. The challenge is to make the message viable, concise, and memorable, so the organization is easily identified with the message at the time.


The FTI media relations team has been working for nearly a year to develop a vehicle to publicize our cause. Different methods of relaying our message have been discussed at length with no clear choice ever actually determined. It was initially decided that a simple slogan could be used that would easily identify our cause with our work. The original slogan of "FTI: Doing Good Things With Odd People" was abandoned as it invited the mistakenly repeated scrutiny of our local law enforcement's Vice Department. Another idea was to have Gummo, the Balloon Boy, wear a sandwich board type of sign reading, "Even I Am Employed; FTI-Helping All Types of People." This ideas was shot down as being in poor taste during the recent employment downturn as well as being taunting to people with lesser intelligence. Later, the idea of planting a feel good "news story" in the local newspaper was advanced. The thought was to have a story and picture featuring Dickie the Peap with 2 other of the Misfits at the nearby Taco Bell with the headline reading "Local Man Discovers Joys of Low Cost Value Menu". The story would go on to describe how the FTI team had helped Dickie realize that he could actually host an event in a social setting and not feel that the small expenditure of funds would be harmful to his overall wealth. This idea was scrubbed as Taco Bell would not allow our team into their restaurant.

Finally, discussion turned to creating a TV commercial that would show how we help our members using exclusive FTI methodology and practices. If we could show some of the innovative practices employed by FTI, the resulting boost in the self confidence of our team would be a positive change for the community. Knowing that most media relations teams are staffed with people whom think differently than the rest ( and then, to be on our team on top of that), the cheap-assed Board of Directors wisely stipulated that a trial run be undertaken so we could see where they were going before committing our few precious resources to such a venture. The result is below.

I don't think it will ever hit the airwaves.

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.

Yep. We've got an app for that

Part of our supposed success here at FTI is our ability to stay technologically current and aware of the various tools to transmit our message.  Despite the repeated failures, goof-ups, and outright bungling by the FTI IT department, the most reviled department here at FTI, somehow we manage.   A case in point:  my recent acquisition of a new cellular "smart" telephone. 

The cheap-assed Board of Directors recently authorized the purchase of a Droid smart phone.   With all of the "apps" available, my life can be managed, enhanced, entertained, and made easier all with this small device.  Overwhelmed by the stench at the FTI sewage lagoon and not able to think clearly in order to move elsewhere?   Simple.  Press the app for the compass and map feature and navigate yourself away.  Unsure how to tie a necktie for the upcoming FTI Doofus Induction Banquet/Yard Sale?  There is an app that gives step by step directions for tying both a Windsor or Four in Hand knot.  Or, and this is a biggie, unsure of where the nearest FAST FOOD PLACE IS LOCATED!?  Reach out to your smart phone and it can locate it for you. 

A lot of this seems silly, juvenile, and  a time waster.  I'm talking about the phone apps.  Not this site.

Jukebox: A Post Earth Day Tribute

Give me that thing. I'll show you how it's done.

At our weekly staff meeting yesterday, I was welcomed back from my few days hiatus attending to the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kfred Jr. 1.   The entire agenda here at the Institute seemed to go into a "sleep" mode as nothing was accomplished and all was put on hold.  With that said, I wish to make one last wedding observation and then pledge not to make the wedding  a topic of any future postings.

My basic photographic skills consist of taking the easiest to operate digital camera I can find, find someone I know, tell them to stand still, center them in the viewfinder, and snap the picture.  A professional, however, is an artist.  They see things  as a point of reference, as an accessory, as something to build around.  That's why they command and receive the fees they do to perform their work.  In viewing the advance work of the photographer who worked the recent wedding, I am amazed at how they can take people and scenes and transform them into works of art.    I would love to share some of his work at this time, but obviously, the guy hasn't received his full fee, so I guess you will have to take my word for it.  The guy is good. 

In the meantime I offer 2 examples of my skills.  One is an action shot captured at  the wedding reception and the other an example of my wildlife viewing skills consisting of  the mole I trapped in the backyard.     Do you think I can land a gig?

Sometimes, You just got to go with the Flow

Well, it's all over. The happy couple will be on their way to Cabo by the time this appears, and all in all, things went very smoothly. I didn't mention in last weeks post, that a major glitch almost destroyed  the grand event.  You see, the hotel where the wedding and reception were scheduled to occur, double booked the rooftop space for the same time on the same day. 

Though the kids had signed the contract for the room in advance of the other party, the date of the actual event on the contract  was wrong by 3 days.  Wednesday!  Who gets married on Wednesday?  Subsequently, the later contract signed by the other party had the correct date, and legally, would be the one recognized if things escalated to  a legal dispute.  (The FTI Legal Dept. pored over this document for hours attempting to find any type of contractual error allowing our side to enforce the original date, but had little success.  Attempting to argue before a judge that the contract was written by the hotel staff on lined paper, had numerous meaningless doodles, and that  a jello wrestling pit would not be provided as requested by an anonymous phone call, were not  felt to be actionable offenses that damages could be won over.)   Ultimately, it was decided that a plan B was needed to be devised and  instituted quickly as the photographer, flowers, invitations, deejay, etc had all been ordered and scheduled.  Fortunately, Friday night was available and decided to be used as the day of choice.  The hotel admitted this incident was all their fault and made numerous concessions on fees and accommodations to make it right for all involved.    In the end, the bride was beautiful, the dinner tasty, the reception rollicking, and the evening  perfect.  And yes,  Goldilocks decided to give up her maiden name and  to take her new husband's name.

 Ladies and gentlemen,  I present Mr. and Mrs. Kfred Jr.1.

It's "Post Wedding" Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's post-wedding Sunday. It's 2 days past, we're still cleaning up, and it's gonna take a while.

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.

Jukebox: What wedding reception doesn't play this?

Simply some odd wedding rituals and beliefs

These are all actual traditions, I did not make these up.  (traditionscustoms.com)   I would have suspected some of these actual practices were developed by our team...........

In Greece it is a tradition to write names of all single women at the wedding party on the sole of bride's shoe. After the party, the shoe is checked. Women whose names have been worn off will be married soon.


Rather strange tradition exists at Russian wedding receptions. Those who would like to get married soon should secretly pull the tablecloth. It is also a bad sign if the heel on the  bride's shoes gets broken.


After the wedding ceremony in Australia, guests put satin horseshoes on ribbons to the bride's wrist for good luck.


The date of the wedding of the Daur people whom live in China  is settled in a rather interesting way. The young man and his bride to be hold a knife together to kill a chick. Then they analyze its liver. If it is of suitable appearance the date of wedding is decided. If not, the happy couple kills yet another chick.


The grooms at Irish weddings has to be very careful when dancing with their brides. His feet have to stay on the floor all the time. Why? If he moves even only one foot off the floor the fairies will steal the bride.


At the wedding in Yemen, the father of the groom takes a handful of raisins and throws them onto the carpet. People gathered there try to pick up as many raisins as possible. Why? Raisins are believed to be symbols of the bright future for the bride and groom.

Actually, these all seem to symbolize something.  Our team isn't bright enough to develop anything with this type of substance.

With our Best Wishes

Hurtling rapidly toward the Big Day of Wedding Week, a number of gifts have been arriving for the soon to be betrothed.  Wedding  gifts are a token of affection and symbol of best wishes, happiness, and future success  for a new bride and groom. 

Rather than the traditional types of material gifts, the Misfits thought it might be unique to offer some personalized, from-the-heart, offerings and life lessons that would be of benefit to a young couple. These concepts would actually be real-life methods and secrets to a long lasting marriage that they could each relay.  I have to admit, initially I was quite proud of my little band of stooges and it brought a small tear to my eye.  Knowing however,  that potential disaster is possible and lurking just below the surface on any concept developed by these losers, I  asked that each gift giver  reveal their plans to me  in  advance in order to judge the sensibilities of each of their ideas.  It was then,  after the details were revealed, that I began to realize that the tear in my eye was, in fact,  due to the nauseous feelings I was beginning to experience.

Among the offerings:

From Dickey the Peap: "Dick(ey)ering Your Way to Financial Health" Dickey thought it would be appropriate to teach the young couple how to avoid paying full retail via any method possible including  wearing a shirt until you develop a hole in it and then return it claiming it to be the wrong size; browbeating a clerk into submission over retail pricing at any establishment and  then waiting until they lower it just to get rid of you; and  his self developed classic, suggesting to dine out with friends, then once the menus have been cleared away, gently remind them  that you believe you bought last time and it is now  their turn to buy.

Marv the Neighbor offered: "3 Tasty, Deep Fried, Meals Guaranteed Your New Husband Will Enjoy".  Does this need to be explained any further?

The Green Comic wished to relay the concept of humor and laughter by gift wrapping a copy of  his well-worn,  dog-eared,  edition of "Everyone Else's Best Jokes".  That way, when  the inevitable disagreement between man and wife comes up, they could take a timeout, search the index for the topic at hand, and read one or two 35 year old jokes relaying to the matter to lessen the tension of the situation.  I told him to rather send a blender.    

The intent is definitely there; for that credit is due and given.  It's just that that the result is a bit off the mark.  Kind of like our population. 

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.