This is akin to the discovery of penicillin

With absolute and full credit to Gummo, the Balloon Boy......

As part of our on-going therapy and long term care, independent studies and tests are conducted regularly here at FTI to help the Misfits cope with life's everyday pressures. 

Interestingly, one of our own, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, took it upon himself to develop some alternative, natural type of therapy that would not involve medication and to approach the problem from a "natural and holistic" perspective.  Spending countless hours into research, Gummo tested, revised, and ultimately, developed a marketable concept that is  summarized here.   Ultimately, his own double blind study proved that this method of relieving STRESS does not work and did nothing more than  give him a headache.

A remedial solution of  repeated Johnny Walker Red and water cocktails was developed and appears to be addressing the problem.

Jukebox: I hope they are ready for FTI

Once you leave.....

My recent decision to leave Facebook was an easy one.  Apparently, some people have "withdrawals" and go into a state of depression because they miss the interaction so much.  Me?  Not the case.  I had a total of 37  friends comprised in the following categories:  3  people I wish to speak to on a daily basis, 2 siblings, 6 people I know through Dilbertland, 21 people I knew through high school a million years ago and haven't spoke to or seen since, 4 cyber characters that I have absolutely no idea why they "friended" (is there such a word?) me,  and  the remaining one being The Green Comic.

Green mentioned both directly to me yesterday  and made a comment on this forum earlier  that he wished I would reinstate my membership as apparently no one is paying him any attention.  At this point, even negative attention from me is something he values and craves.  My occasional gentle reminders on Facebook to behave and act appropriately would be constantly met with his signature "HEY PAL!" greeting and then followed with some type of misspelled insult which I always found difficult to pay any attention over.  Still, he is one of our own and everyone needs a lift once in a while. I thought I would make a quick log-in, boost the pity factor on his own wall, and bail out once again.

Anyways,  I tried to  log back in yesterday and repeatedly got the message that my email address was no longer tied to any Facebook account.  I contacted the Facebook help desk and was informed that Green's account had been placed on a "Stupidity Watch" resulting in any present and past emails accounts of persons friended by the Green One were now subject to review, evaluation,  and possible termination for the protection of Facebook's own reputation of relevancy.  Apparently, they recognize idiocy as well and want no part of it at their site.

I wish we at FTI had some type of process to deal with  idiocy appropriately.  Facebook is so large they can cover it by having so many members that it can be hidden.  Our small organization does not have that luxury.   As it stands now, we can identify and recognize it, we just can't avoid it.    I guess I will just ignore it and get back to tending my crops at Farmville.   

The Komen people might want to rethink this whole thing

Yesterdays' staff meeting included the agenda item of this weekend's pending  activities.  Included was one that may be potentially troubleful:  The upcoming annual  "Komen Walk for the Cure Fundraiser" to battle breast cancer that is scheduled for our area.

Being past supporters of this fine event for nearly 5 years now, both Mrs. Kfred and I have participated in the fund raising walk portion of their various events.  This year, due to a scheduling conflict, Mrs. Kfred is going to participate as a booth volunteer at the pre-race instead of as a participant.  Understanding the importance of this cause, the Misfits want to be involved as well and have formed a team, "Rubes for Boobs" and want to walk as well.  My problem is that as Executive Director, my job is to preserve the small amount of dignity,  relevance, and importance of our own organization while  trying to babysit  our band of idiots while they march together in solidarity to help raise money to fund research into this horrible disease. 

Obviously, one of the greatest challenges is to determine a way to keep our group together in the sea of thousands of participants.  Various methods were discussed and debated, but in the end, it was decided that we will line the Misfits up, tie old bras to each of their left wrists,  then tie their free right wrist to the  adjacent Misfit's strapped left wrist and VOILA!  A nylon chain gang ala a bunch of 4 year olds at a downtown crosswalk.  Everyone is linked together, we're in a straight line, and no pushing.  (Gummo!  Hold onto the strap!)

I'm a little apprehensive about the whole thing and unsure of the reaction to our efforts.  Obviously, it takes all types and we want to do our part.  My fear is that some walkers will actually think they are attending a walk for the wrong cure and be confused which event is being conducted.  The "Crawl to Stall Idiocy" is the following weekend.  I am the Grand Marshall. 

Really?? And whom exactly is saving all of this time?

Recognizing the need to remain at the cutting edge of technological  informational advances in today's world, we here at FTI are trying to embrace as many  options available in order to improve our efficiency,  productivity, and save time.   Of course, this does require a fair amount of interaction with the FTI IT dept (the most reviled department here at FTI) which at times can be quite challenging.  Case in point: my attempt to pay the FTI insurance bill on line. 

I received an earlier announcement from the FTI Treasury, (D. the Peap, Miser in Charge)  announcing that an incentive was being run by the bank to shift any payments previously paid via check to a debit transaction.   If we successfully completed 3 transactions in one month, the bank would make a small deposit into our account as a "thank you".   Never one to pass on any type of  free money, Dickie the Peap advised us to be on the lookout for any opportunities.   Receiving a bill from our insurance carrier, I noted the option  to pay on-line and figured this would be a good place to start.    Of course, this requires  setting up an on-line account with the insurance carrier.  I can understand creating an account with your bank, your broker, Amazon, Facebook, or the local mental health support system.  I don't know why you would set up an account with an entity that you interact with twice a year.   Regardless, I begin the process to provide the personal  information  and repeatedly receive the message :  "All information must be EXACT as on your bill to set up your account".  I check the bill 4 times, re-enter the same amount of times and keep getting the same result.  I then realize that, of course, it would be helpful to provide the policy number in the box that I had ignored and suddenly, PRESTO! the account is created.  Total time elapsed:  6 minutes.  Time remaining until computer potentially takes flight out of window:  90 seconds.  Having set up the account, I now encounter the billing screen where I can enter the payment information.  As I don't have the card on me, I have to get up, go get my wallet and dig through the cards to get the right one.  Enter the type of card , the card number, attempt to enter the expiration date.  Twice.  No luck.  Realize that a debit card transaction doesn't have to include an expiration date.  Attempt to enter the security PIN number on back.  Twice.  No Luck.  Same reason.  Confirm amount of payment.  Enter email address for confirmation.  Re-enter for Security purposes.  Send Payment.  "This transaction cannot be processed as a debit card. Return to previous screen and select credit transaction".    Total time elapsed: 4 minutes. Time now remaining until computer potentially takes flight out of window:  5 seconds. 

In the end, I paid the bill and all is well.  I understand the shift to a paperless environment; It's green, it's less clutter for the customer, blah, blah, blah.  I just don't know if I saved a whole lot of time, vs. writing a check, putting  it in a stamped envelope,  and dropping it in the mailbox.  And that saving time pitch?  Well, I don't think it applied to me. 

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.

Never Forgotten. Ever.

The usual mirth, merriment, and silliness associated with our normal observations will be suspended today in honor of the over 3000 lives lost 9 years ago today.

Regardless of your political leanings, interpretation of cause, or assignment of blame, the cowardly acts of that day were despicable. May their be a special place in Hell for those involved with the planning and carrying out of those acts.

Jukebox: But what have I done to deserve this?

Kfred likes leaving Facebook

After a one year foray, I deactivated my personal  Facebook account this morning.    And I don't think I am going to miss it a bit. 

Like a lot of businesses and organizations, the cheap-assed Board of Directors thought that we could create interest and attain new levels of critical thinking by sampling and observing the thoughts of others.  This premise was dismally shot down within the approximate first 20 minutes of activation of our account a year ago.  And nothing has changed in the meantime.   

The facts that you like/are a fan of 1)apple pie, 2)boots made of meat, 3) goats wearing Catholic school girl uniforms, or have a farm and want to share your harvest with me (or any of a number of particular concepts) is actually quite boring to me.  Likewise, I am confident most people don't care of my thoughts of today's weather, where I am traveling, or viewing action photos of the Misfits. 

To paraphrase Betty White's recent observation of Facebook, "It seems like an incredible waste of time."    I agree since after all, why would I want to engage and write about topics that are stupid, mindless, and nonsensical?  That seems like a duplication of efforts. 

Precision at it's finest

A little recap of yesterdays Labor Day celebration:

• Invited to a neighborhood picnic yesterday, Mrs. Kfred and I were assigned the task of bringing some "appetizers".   Actually wanting to expand my comfort zone a bit, I decided I would try to  make some buffalo chicken wings. I have never done so previously, but thought I would give it a try.  Though the FTI commissary is normally closed during holidays, as Executive Director and not fearing raising any eyebrows of our crack security staff,  I was able to climb in through the back window, unlock the delivery door, and give the Colonel a run for his money.   I don't want to brag, but damn, they were pretty tasty for being the result of the maiden voyage. 

• The FTI Drill team's marching exhibition was  lackluster, at best, while performing at the neighborhood picnic.  Though we drill extensively and I thought that we had mastered the concepts of eyes front, right foot, and counting to 4, everything went awry when our unit encountered a small reminder of the presence of horses further up the processional lane that one of the broom boys missed while cleaning.    Gummo, the Balloon Boy, our honorary Drill major, began shrieking like a little girl in surprise and fright after stepping  in the gooey pile and began goose stepping to try to get it off the bottom of his boot.  The rest of the Misfits, trained to follow their leader, immediately began to mimic our lead Idiot, and as a result, began to perform some type of cadence that would best resemble a fire walker whom had never practiced with actual hot coals.  The forced congratulations and offers of condolences by the neighbors were appreciated, but actually, put a damper on the performance.  I would have rather been told, "Boy, those guys need a lot of work".     

BREAKING UPDATE:  I have just received an email from our neighborhood parade chairman whom noted that next year, all parade entries without the proper supervision to maintain order would  no longer be allowed to participate.   Great.  Those damn horses can stay in the barns where they belong.  Reading further, I note that drill teams are not welcome either.  I guess we will just stick with the Macy's parade at Thanksgiving.   

Hey, we're off today as well!

Hey, what are you doing here?  Though we appreciate your interest, today's a holiday.  Go drink some beer, bbq a hot dog, enjoy the last warm days of summer.  This crap will always be here.  Go on!

See you tomorrow.

It's Green Sunday

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

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

It's Labor Day weekend; we get tomorrow off as well.  The weekly struggle begins again Tuesday. See you then.

Best filed as "Oops, wrong number".

HELENA, Mont. – General rule of thumb: when looking to buy marijuana, don't text the sheriff. Authorities said a Helena teen hit a wrong number and inadvertently sent a message to Lewis and Clark County Sheriff Leo Dutton, saying "Hey Dawg, do you have a $20 I can buy right now?"

A detective pretending to be the dealer organized a meeting at a time when the boy knew he and another teen would be at a particular store.

The detective spotted two teenage boys and one of the boy's fathers — who was unaware of what was going on — at the store. He called the phone number three times to make sure he had the right person. Dutton said when the detective showed the teens his badge, one of the boys fainted.

No citations were issued after the parents of the boys, who were 15 and 16, got involved.

Jukebox: Especially this One

Colonel, Captain. Captain, Major. Major, Kfred.

An event in Dilbertland yesterday reminded me of the old M*A*S*H show that highlighted the silliness of appearances. 

One of the upper executives was coming to town for an approximate 8 hour tour and  visit with some key customers.  Involved in his layover was an "inspection" of the facilities and a chance to give the staff a little feel good session, photo-op, and sale of commemorative t-shirts with the dates and cities he has visited to date listed on the back.  (OK, I made that part up.)    Anyways, the amount of cleaning, organizing, straightening, and otherwise ignored tasks to make an operation run efficiently and neatly, was amplified in advance of the upcoming visit.  Like the old M*A*S*H episode, everything was in place, the rehearsal had been perfected and then the phone call came;  there would be a delay.  Suddenly, everything reverted back to normal, routine took over once again, and reality struck home.  A half hour later, MacArthur arrived, looked around, made small talk with a couple of the grunts, mentioned to email him if there was anything that he could do to help, and was again back out the door.  Total time on premises:  10 minutes.

Now I work in a good organization.  It has issues like any other, but, it is basically good.   The real work is not done at the top, however.  It's done down in the trenches.  Everyday. By the little people. On the line. Everyday.   

GQ: Meet FTI

There have been two recent news articles about personal grooming habits of professional athletes that make me glad we have a policy in place here at FTI and reinforce the value of it for the Misfits as well. 

In the first case,  Manny Ramirez is set to join the Chicago White Sox and cut his trademark dreadlocks in order to conform to White Sox appearance policy.  Ramirez has always had a "go it alone" attitude and has used his hair to make a statement reflecting the same.  Now, he is going to have to come into the fold, get a haircut,  and be like the rest of the guys.   Secondly, one of the Miami Dolphins football players lost a 2.5 carat diamond earring during practice and was searching for it later on the practice football field.  The player apparently forgot to remove it before the start of drills and subsequently lost it on the practice field.  The earring was said to be worth nearly $50,000.

We don't allow any type of sharp jewelry, piercings, artistic tattoos, or any type of body art to be worn by the Misfits while they are here  for their own safety.  This safety concern is not for violence, retaliation, or gang affiliation identification, but rather to prevent any 2nd-rate roving circuses to claim a wandering Misfit as a potential sideshow exhibit.  Ripley be damned. 

Idiocy from a female perspective

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

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

Well, they sound alike

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

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

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

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

Our international division is considering this guy for membership

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

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

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

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

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

Jukebox: A little Friday Soul

We're juuussst a bit under our goal

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

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

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

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

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

Yo, youse wanna make some money?

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

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

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

The Idiocy is sometimes in the simplicity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's Vacation Sunday

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then. See you then.  See you then.  See you then. 

Jukebox: Sing it Frank

We'll be back shortly.

Toothbrush?  Check.

Official FTI ID Card?  Check.

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

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

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

Say! Now that sounds like fun!

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

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

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

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

When you need help, consult the professionals

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

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

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

Professionals.  They really are worth what you pay them.

it's Green Sunday

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Isn't this a function of government?

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

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

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

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

Jukebox: I'm Getting There

Will there be a public trial?

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

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

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

I think we can all relate to this guy

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

No doubt he would fit in.

We are in control

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

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

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

It's Green Sunday

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Jukebox: Look Deep into my eyes

An open letter

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

Dear A. Barry,

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

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

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

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

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

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

I sure hope old A. Barry sends a check.

You can never go home

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

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

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

I've got rehearsal down at the club

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

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

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

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

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

It's the Lost Reunion Tour Sunday

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Ringo, I love you.

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

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

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

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

Jukebox: I would be surprised, too

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

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

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

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

Can I count on your support?

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

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

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

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

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

Really, I MEANT to do that

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

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

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

Case Closed.

The real action is out in the field

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

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

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

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

It's Green Sunday

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Now, who can I blame?

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

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

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

Jukebox: A benefit of Summer

Go ahead. Get it out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This economy is affecting us all

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

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

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

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

Will you accept this gift?

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

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

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

It's Broke Sunday. Again.

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Good boy. Here's a banana

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

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



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

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

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

The future really is bright

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

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

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

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

Truly. Shoot the messenger.

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

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

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

It only happens once a year

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

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

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

It's Green Sunday

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Jukebox: On a train tonight

Hey, I am not your Father's Barney Fife

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

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

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

Just describe yourself as an "Attendant"

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

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

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

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

Speak up Sonny, I can't hear you

HURRY! YOUR ATTENTION IS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Jukebox: This is what it's all about

Ok, I'm glad you know

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

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

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


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