It's now starting to go full circle

The good folks in Dilbertland are now beginning to get in the act and I am becoming a bit concerned. A recent mandate came down that I must purchase a  phone in order to comply with some new information reporting software being introduced. My current 6 month old Droid phone apparently is not supported under the platform being used, so, it's either an iPhone or a Blackberry. The catch is that I have to pay for it out of my pocket. No reimbursement, no compensation. $200 out the door, just like that. In Dickie the Peap terms, that's approximately equivalent to 6 months of whining and claiming to be broke.

As much as I have tried, I have always isolated the type of thinking that emanates from our Institute in order to have most polluted thinking isolated within a secure area.  Obviously, there is a leak somewhere on the perimeter and we could have a full blown crisis on our hands shortly if something is not corrected soon.  Or, alternatively, we may be looking at adding one more individual to our group.  Neither scenario is promising.     

Jukebox: What are we waiting for?

Should I stay or should I go?

A non-FTI affiliated observation for today:

I think I would like to open an advanced techniques traffic school.  This would be for experienced drivers whom wanted to further their abilities in normal traffic.  Not to make money.  Simply to educate people on proper technique.  Priority No 1:  left turns into oncoming traffic at an intersection. 

Yesterday, I spent 4 rotations of a green light cycle waiting in a left hand turn lane while the motorist at the front of the line couldn't/ wouldn't/didn't have the proper ability to advance any further.  It's damn frustrating as it is, sitting in line, while traffic  is so heavy that you can't advance.  It is quite another thing when you begin to realize that the reason you are waiting is that the driver at the head of the line is too timid to get into the intersection, wait for traffic to clear, and make the damn turn!  I was third in line at an intersection behind a wide, dual axled, 3/4 ton pick up truck whom (it later was determined) was behind a mini van at the front of the line.  When I arrived, the green light had just turned yellow with a constant stream of oncoming traffic advancing the other way.  My thought was at least I would be in second position on the next  green arrow.  Too my surprise, the light turned red and no one advanced.  I figured the guy in the truck was a  bit shy, but, hey I can wait.   Next green arrow, he doesn't move but there are a ton of cars coming at us, so I figure he will just get out there at the last minute before the light turns.  Red arrow again and now I am starting to get a bit concerned.  The third cycle begins and now I hear a constant horn beginning to blow.  I then hear another 2 horns start honking (honking horns is contagious, isn't it?).  Not wanting to miss out on the fun, I start honking my horn as well.  Three guys from the machine shop on the corner come out of their shop to check out the source of commotion and and start pointing at the front of the line.  The guy in front of  me rolls down his window, gets his  face in the mirror, and gives me the 2 palms up sign.  This is when I stick my head out the window and realize that a middle aged woman is driving a minivan and not getting her ass in gear and getting out of the way.  Finally, at the end of this cycle, she s-l-o-w-l-y eases around the corner and ends the frustration.  Total time elapsed :  4 minutes.

Now my life is not so busy that I can't wait four minutes for anything.   I certainly do not advocate anyone taking unwise chances in traffic in order to make a turn.  There is a mindset, however, that in order to be pleasing to everyone, you need to accommodate anyone.  I don't buy that thinking.  When the light turns green, pull into the intersection, and wait until there is room to make the left.  If no room appears and you are still in the intersection when the light turns red, the cross-traffic will be inconvenienced for about a second as you complete the turn and go on you way.  That's it.

Lesson Over.  We accept Visa and Mastercard.           

Yeah. I will take a combo.

The recent decision by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to ban the practice of giving away free toys with meals has been a lively topic of discussion among the Misfits here at FTI.  Though we are located nowhere near San Francisico and are not subject to this ruling, the Misfits have been very anxious about the ramifications that may result if this type of thinking spreads elsewhere among politicians.  

Personallly, I am relieved.  There  already is enough squabbling among our group while going through the drive-thru.  It is normally a painful experience.  Gummo always has to get a balloon, Dickie the Peap starts whining if there isn't some play money, and The Rat Bastard G is an idiot.  It doesn't matter what he gets.  It has nothing to do with free toys.  He is still an idiot.

I just hope that in the future, the option of small portions of alcohol for the person in charge of the vehicle (Not the driver!) becomes an option.    My meal would be so much happier.   

The Queen is not amused

As noted previously here, our decision to exit from Facebook was an easy decision. I haven't looked back and no one seems to have really cared. That's fine. I like the anonymity.

Now, it turns out that the Queen of England has decided to join Facebook and, within hours, more than 50,000 people rushed to "like" the Queen. Of course, you can't "friend" her or "poke"(?) her, (EDITOR'S NOTE TO GREEN COMIC: enter someone else's cheap joke here) but, you can "like" her. I am quite certain that among those 50,000 people are those whom are intrigued with the monarchy itself, but, have never actually met the Queen. So, why would you waste your time to "friend" someone you don't even know?

I relay all of this as the subject of reinstating our Facebook page is on the agenda of today's weekly staff meeting.  A hardcore contingent  advocates a return to the social setting scene while I am holding out to not bother.  My reasoning?  Slateface, Rat Bastard G, Crazy, Freako Deako, etc.  Nobody actually knows this group.  Why would they want to follow them or "friend" them? 

I can only envision one scenario of actually reinstating our status:  I wonder if the Queen wouldn't mind being classified as a Misfit.

It's all about self-awareness

Among my numerous responsibilities here at FTI are to oversee the direct health and welfare of the Misfits.  After all, the sound thinking and observations exhibited here are the direct result of  proper nutrition, plenty of sleep, and healthy eating habits.  We do engage in a daily exercise routine and calisthenics and dietary analysis , but, for a long time, I have been trying to find some alternative types of help as well.  I recently read an article of the positive benefits of yoga and thought I might introduce a routine  to the Misfits.  Unfortunately, the results were not what I had intended. 

The recent attempts by 2 of our members  posted here are not a display of failure; rather a reinforcement of the caveat that Yoga is not for everyone.  Especially those with limited mental capacity.   I think we may seek some alternative methods of mind awareness.

Jukebox: The stories are in my head

A case of mistaken identity

I am currently traveling out of town on official non-institute business on behalf of the good folks of Dilbertland.  It goes with the territory; I actually like to travel a bit.  It gets me away from the Misfits.   While starting my personal  grooming routine this morning, I noted that my extra razor was nowhere to be found in my travel kit.  I use a manual razor and for some reason it was now not in my travel shaving kit.  I don't know why, but, no big deal.  I will go down to the gift shop in the hotel and buy another. 

Arriving in the gift shop, I  peruse all of the useless souvenirs, sweatshirts, coffee mugs, and key chains and find the personal care shelf.  On the shelf is a blisterpack package of a small 2 oz can of shaving creme and a cheap disposable razor.  I grab it and take it to the counter for purchase.  The clerk greets me with a smile and asks me if there will be anything else.  While doing this, I note she is looking at me in a funny way.  I assume it is simply because I am not clean shaven and think nothing of it, but, she persists.  Now, I am beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable over this attention and ask if she is OK.  She said "You look kind of familiar.  Are you that guy that deals with those weirdo's?  What is it? Fathead Thinking?"  Now, I think to myself, "Fathead Thinking!?  Are you kidding me!?  Is this what we have become?"    The better than one year's effort of my carefully cultivated image building, the tireless pursuit of excellence, the dogged dedication to rooting out the truth, and the unswerving goal of dealing with society's losers in a central location in order to spare others the misery and burden of having to do so.  And she describes it as "Fathead Thinking"?

I am growing a beard.  It should minimize the appearance of my large skull.

Oh well, there's always next year

Trick-or-Treaters   8
Misfits                        0  (F)



In the second matchup in their short existence, the FTI Misfits once again came up with a valiant effort, but, all for naught in a losing effort to the visiting Trick or Treaters, losing 8-0. 

The Misfits were befuddled all night by the swarming attack of the Trick or Treaters led by 5 year old "Fairy Princess" and the 11 year old, "Koltar, He-Man of the Universe".   Relentless pressure from outside and the continuing cowering of key Misifts including the Rat Bastard G and  The Green Comic contributed to the poor overall effort by the FTI Misfits.  Said FTI player/coach Dickie the Peap, "I take the blame for our lack of aggressive play this week.  I have been busy counting and recounting my money and I just didn't have time to properly prepare our squad.   I guess I should have diagrammed better greetings than thinking of new ways to avoid paying for any  meals."  An unidentified FTI source seconded the Peap's analysis with a terse,  "No truer words were ever spoken", comment.

The Misfits will be in action again next year and hopefully respond with a better effort. 

It's Sunday Brunch

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. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch. Every time one of the Misfits say, do, or think something stupid, they have to put a dollar in the jar. We call it our Brunch fund. And as far as I can forecast, there's going to be a lot of Sunday meals.

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

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

I know there's a hydrant around here somewhere

Probably the fault of the new guy.   

Think of it this way:  Now they can teach the kids there is an extra exit point out of the house when a real fire occurs. 

Jukebox: You have a choice this coming Tuesday

I'm Kfred and I approved this message

EDITORS NOTE:  THE FOLLOWING IS AN UNPAID COMMENTARY.  NO ACTUAL MONEY, GOODS, OR SERVICES WERE EXCHANGED IN RETURN FOR THIS CONTRIBUTION.

I have returned my 2010 election ballot to my county elections officer and am done with the whole process.  Good riddance. 

As oft stated here, the official FTI party line is that we trust no politicians.   Regardless of party affiliation or stated goals, these individuals have extremely short memories and suddenly forget their promises once they gain office.  The old saying that "I hate all of the Representatives except mine" is not  valid around here.  If they currently hold office, as far as I am concerned,  the count on them  is currently 0-2 with the next pitch called to be an unhittable fastball coming down the middle.  Honestly, I'm looking for the guy (or gal)  on deck to rescue us.    

With that being said, however, I do reserve the right to support any representative willing to go out on a limb and support the services we so desperately need here at FTI:  Fully subsidized adult daycare, drool bibs for the asking, and continuing monies to study the causes of idiocy as housed here.    Now, those are some causes I believe in.    

OK. Now put that thing away.

Mrs. Kfred and I are invited to a Halloween party this coming Friday night.  I am always amazed how adults have hijacked this innocent night of kid's celebration  into something for themselves.  I don't remember all of the adult centered events when I was a kid.  It just seems like the adults have stolen this day as an excuse to party in drag.  Kind of like the Green Comic's audience when he starts singing karaoke.  Anyways, my task was to develop a costume.

Now, most Halloween parties have the obligatory couples with the his and her theme:  Superman and Lois Lane, Adam and Eve, Bill and Hillary, Ziegfried and Roy, etc.  Mrs. Kfred was about to have no part in a couples themed get-up, so, I was on my own.   Trying to think what men wear to these type of parties,  I realized  there are the standard men wearing womens clothes, Surgical scrubs, soldier fatigues and the like.  I wanted to do something edgy, something different.  I have been told that my ceremonial Executive Director's regalia is splendid and very costume-like and that I should wear it.  Of course, the solemnity and reverence of that garb is nearly spiritual-like and that  wearing it to a common Halloween party would be tantamount to blasphemy.  Besides, I wouldn't want to get it dirty before I compete at our yearly FTI  BBQ Ribfest and Catfish Fry  Smackdown.   No, I needed something a bit different. 

After a few days of quiet meditation, careful consideration, and considerable planning, it came to me: I would be the Genie in the Bottle!    Unable to locate my 90's era MC Hammer pants, nor, my Mr. Clean Bald Skullcap, I realized some quick improvisation was in order.   Patterning specifically after Disney's Aladdin character, I was able to throw the garb pictured below together in short order. 

I feel confident about the costume.  I'm just not sure how I am going to be able to steer the car. 

I don't think Peter will be classified as a faithful reader

Preparing to describe and recount the events concerning the selection of my costume for an upcoming Halloween bash, I was surprised when I sat down at the computer this morning. 

I purposely take the staff out on Sunday for Sunday Brunch as a means to rebuild team spirit and to give us a day off.  It's the least I can do for the Misfits.  I also note this fact in our normal Sunday posting.  Imagine my surprise, then, when I received a comment from Peter in Sweden whom posted a poem plus links to some of his other works in yesterday's Sunday comments.  Not only does he want to post his poems, but, he also bribes me with a promotion link offering to  "advertise you indefinitely" while stating he "will follow you in return" if I promote his website as a blog I follow.  A cursory review shows that Peter follows approximately 435 different blogs.  I have a feeling he probably can't keep up with all of them.  I have a small embedded measuring device that tracks the time spent here at Flatline Thinking.  Peter spent a total of 21 seconds cutting, pasting, and posting his comments to our site.  Our background and charter amendments specifically state that we offer no bribes to follow this site or write insightful poetry/haiku pieces.  Apparently Peter didn't use his 21 seconds wisely to review these key tenets. 

Like many a wine gone bad, our site looks fine on the outside.  It's when you sample it that you realize even the fruit flies stay away from the shit.   Holding our near daily recitations in a much higher regard, however, I do  understand that it is definitely an acquired taste.  (Our two faithful readers were obviously imbibing when they stumbled upon us in the first place and continued to over indulge and now not only follow us, but, also have the neighbors whisper behind their backs about "their problem".)    Regardless, Peter you seem to be a great poet.  It's just that our readers aren't going to know it. 

Tomorrow:  My Halloween costume

It's Sunday Brunch

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. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch. Every time one of the Misfits say, do, or think something stupid, they have to put a dollar in the jar. We call it our Brunch fund. And as far as I can forecast, there's going to be a lot of Sunday meals.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow.  See you then.

The Delights of Autumn

Mrs. Kfred and I are headed out today with Marv, the Neighbor and his wife on a little fall excursion.  To date, it has been a great fall with above normal temperatures and some glorious sun.  I do think, though, that extended  bad weather is lurking around the corner, so, now is the time to get out a bit. 

We are going to take an approximate 60 mile journey to enjoy the local harvest in the vicinity near the compound.  The Fruit Loop run is a tour of local farms and wineries to sample and buy various seasonal produce, wines, textiles, crafts, and baked goods.  When this idea was initially floated last weekend, Marv and I thought it was splendid idea as we were both highly confident the community where we are headed would have plenty of bars where we could drink beer, watch college football, and ogle the wives and girlfriends of other men  forced  also agreeing to participate in this exercise while the women shopped.  That concept was immediately vetoed without any discussion (which is actually a violation of Roberts Rules of Order, so technically, this trip should not occur at all, but I don't think the appeals board will allow this objection) so, off to shopping for handmade earrings made from peach pits we will go. 

Hopefully, we may find some apple cider moonshine along the way.

Jukebox: Why Wait Until Then?

We'll see you in 6 months

I am scheduled today for a session with a guilty pleasure I indulge myself every 6  months.  As this is an anonymous blog, I am not afraid to discuss it.

You see, every 6 months my fear breaks down, my primitive urges take over, and  I visit my dominatrix.   She is an attractive little vixen;  approximately 30 years of age, long blonde hair, and an outwardly friendly demeanor.  Well spoken and well groomed, she is always glad to see me and always greets me with a knowing smile.  10 minutes later after our session begins, however, things take an ominous turn.  There is considerable questioning by her, blank responses from me, and then another dose of pain administered in response.   I am 6' 1" tall and weigh 200 lbs.  She is approximately 5' 4" tall and MAYBE weighs 110 lbs, and yet, she can bring me to my knees in seconds.  And I gladly pay for this treatment.  Sometimes she even brings in a partner to help or on occasion, another man.

I have had this on my calendar for 6 months.  The people in Dilbertland know I will be showing up late this morning.   Most all my friends know of this predilection of mine.  After I am through with her, I am sore, upset with myself, and have feelings of guilt.    And yet, I look forward to my visit again in 6 months.  To Colleen.  My dental hygienist. 

 

.   

Wait till we start tree trimming



Unidentified FTI staff member "riding the wave"



Alternative thinking and solution finding is, of course, our stock and trade here at FTI.  I am proud to share an example of our latest example of groupthink pictured above.  It truly is a crowning achievement. 

Having finished all of the basic fall clean up and beautification processes here at FTI , over the weekend  the last remaining task for the FTI Physical Plant/Landscaping dream team was to trim the hedges that surround the compound.    Deferred yearly maintenance trimming had resulted in a hedge that was taller than our staff could safely access via a ladder.  A number of alternative ideas were proposed and judged to be unsound including Gummo, the Balloon Boy balancing the Green Comic on his shoulders with an electric trimmer in an attempt to mimic an act from a 2nd rate traveling circus featuring a couple of Eastern European Brothers with a chain saw.   Dickie the Peap thought perhaps whacking the bush with a golf club might be appropriate as it would give him additional practice with his golf swing  in order to attempt to rescue his pathetic golf game.   Ultimately, Slateface came up with the idea of the day:  Why not mow it with a tractor?   Logistics were an obvious hurdle, so, the Misfits had a major brainstorming session dedicated to surmising a solution.  A total of 3-1/2 hours later, a plan was hatched.   

Under the watchful eye of our Safety Director, Mrs. Kfred, a plan was devised and executed to sheer perfection.  Fearing that any one of the Misfits might actually attempt to put the tractor into gear, I had a member of the landscaping team ride the tractor as it mowed the 16  foot hedge to a pristine, even cut.  Our work was so impressive that members of the local Japanese Gardening Society came  by, took pictures, and asked if we were available for consultation in regard to some of their bonsai plants.  I guess enthusiasts even recognize sheer brilliance when they see it.   

I know I am saving money, but I don't need 6 of them.

I was standing in line waiting to pay for my purchases at Costco the other day when one of their employees came up  to me  and greeted me by name.  Knowing that I did not have my official FTI identification card around my neck, nor, wearing the brightly decorated,  ceremonial Executive Director's toque (which is worn during only the most solemn of FTI events), I was a bit surprised how this guy knew me.  After all, we strive to work in total anonymity here at FTI as  a cover story in explaining the low readership traffic we experience here on a daily basis.  Regardless, I digress;  this individual noted that I had spent x amount of dollars in the last year and that I could earn cash back on all of my purchases if I chose to get a Costco/American Express card.   Now, I already have an American Express card and was not interested in the Costco brand card and politely declined his offer.  I was surprised, however, how he knew my name.  He replied that the small scanner in his hand was used to  "shoot" my card while it was on top of my purchases as it ran up the conveyor belt at checkout.  Instantly, he had my name, address, purchase history, etc.  I inquired which aisle this device was located, but was met with a puzzled reply of "They are not for sale" and to "Have a nice Day".  The guy walked off. 

My thinking is simple.  (* Rim-shot.*   Cue all of the wise assed commenter's:  Your comments are welcome, but, please do not write "How many times have you heard that before?"  Our sophistication level at this blog is a bit higher than that.)  If I had such a device that I could point at the Misfits and immediately document their stupid actions, comments, and deeds, my life would be exponentially more efficient and leave me more time to do the things I really want to do.  Like waiting in line behind a bunch of kids and oblivious shoppers for a sample of tasty, restaurant quality, lasagna bites on sale today for $7.99.   

It's Sunday Brunch

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. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow.  See you then.

Jukebox: But you can't make him drink

Excelente, Chile

I have nothing to add to this.  Simply look at these pictures.  (It may take some time to load, but is well worth it.)

Is that organic?

It seems than in today's "green" society (which we here at FTI are are huge supporters of with our regularly scheduled and observed Green Sunday feature), one of the newest ideas gaining traction is an age old one.  Developers and landowners wishing to clear lots, hillsides, and any other coveted areas for use are forgoing the use of herbicides or gas powered weed whackers and are returning to nature.  That's right: they are renting the services of  goats to clear large areas of ground of unwanted vegetation.   Goats have a very strong digestive system which allows them to eat most weeds that other foraging animals wouldn't eat.  In addition, the digestive system of the goat actually causes the seeds of the weeds they eat to be sterile, so, in following years, there are not as many weeds in that same area. 

The hillside surrounding the FTI compound is comparable to the ground that is described above.  Thistles, weeds, and deep underbrush seem to be the norm in this area.  The FTI Physical Plant/Landscaping department  suggested this method to our rotating Executive committee during a recent meeting to clear the vegetation in preparation for the construction of our brand new  bocci ball court.   Everyone seemed fine with this idea and a motion to  go ahead and contract with the owner of some local goats for this same type of service failed, however, to generate a second one  to be carried.

I guess the FTI commissary staff doesn't want to lose their garden to a bocci ball court.

Time for a new Lawyer

In a slam-dunk, short agenda,  you have got to be kidding me,  meeting conducted by the cheap-assed Board of Directors over the weekend, I have been easily reinstated and my Executive Director powers restored  here at FTI.  Honestly, I expected nothing less. 

As a recap to our potential lone, drop-in reader, I review:  My duties and responsibilities were stripped last week after describing our  same  aforementioned cheap-assed Board of Directors as "idiots".   Shifty, my legal representative, correctly pointed out that my use of the  word "idiot" was protected under my First Amendment rights and, though not tastefully used,  was used  a substitute for the more hurtful words of:

airhead, birdbrain, blockhead, bonehead, bubblehead, chowderhead, chucklehead,  cluck, clunk, cretin,  deadhead, dim bulb  dimwit, dip, dodo,  doofus [slang], dope, dork [slang], dullard, dumbbell, dumbhead, , dummkopf, dummy, dunce, dunderhead, fathead, gander, golem, goof, goon, half-wit, hammerhead, hardhead, ignoramus, imbecile, jackass, know-nothing, knucklehead, lamebrain,  loon, lump, lunkhead, meathead, moron, nimrod [slang], nincompoop, ninny, ninnyhammer, nit [chiefly British], nitwit, noddy, noodle, numskull  oaf, pinhead, prat [British], ratbag [chiefly Australian], saphead,  schnook [slang], simpleton, stock, stupe, stupid, thickhead, woodenhead, yahoo, yo-yo.

Our negotiated settlement allows me for the continuing use of the word "idiot" when signaling my displeasure with the Board.  In return, the Board gets to continue to refer to me as the sole Executive Director here at FTI. 

I thought the lawyer was supposed to be looking out for my best interests.   

It's Sunday Brunch

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. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow.  See you then.

10 Quick bulletpoints

Fully expecting to be reinstated and to have my Executive Director duties restored before the end of the  weekend, I have spent the last 48 hours in deep thought.  Some Random observations I wish to share: 

1. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

5. Was learning cursive really necessary?

6. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on # 5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

7. Bad decisions make good stories.

8. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

9. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

10. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

And here's a freebee:  Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

Jukebox: What I think I may do

Oh no. Not again.

Once again, I find myself in a precarious employment position.  I just don't understand.

After yesterday's honest attempt to be a part of the much vaunted "International Outreach" effort, apparently my description of the staff and cheap-assed Board of Directors as "idiots" hit a sour chord.  A full 8 months after the first time, I have once again been suspended and relieved of all of my duties pending a full review of my actions.

Times are tough.  People are jobless.  No one is hiring.  I get it.  As my duties and responsibilities are highly specific, I may indeed have trouble landing another gig.  Competitive institutes are not hiring.    Our few remaining peers have upgraded their thinking above ours and, as a result, have no need for my services.  I'm worried.  Where else could I go and be a part of a do-nothing organization? 

I guess there is always government. 

And they say Love is the universal language

Constant  observation and analysis by our idiot FTI IT team (the most reviled department at FTI), of our readership and demographics has created a new quandary  for me that I must now address.   I have a feeling this one has "trainwreck"written all over it.

Apparently, while taking a break from their assigned duties, one of the dweebs noticed that our readership includes a number of foreign readers whom choose to translate this shit into their own native language.  Google has a translation tool that allows phrases and websites to be easily converted.  (Why anyone would take the trouble to find this site, translate it into their own language to understand, read it, and then feel that they have accomplished something is beyond me.)  Now, the meddlesome, cheap-assed FTI  Board of Directors has gotten wind of this and want me to spearhead an "International Outreach" program in order to broaden our literary footprint and to create a global presence.

I tried to reason with our Board that with all of the discontent, upheaval, strife, and conflict currently engulfing the world, it makes no sense to me that we, as Americans, would want to inflame the passions of others any further.  Especially with this daily drivel.  They, of course, have a different view of our purpose here and would have no part of my argument.  Beaten into submission, I relented and told them that I would create a posting touting our skills, abilities, and to offer a description of our entire organization.  Noting that a recent reader had used the Bulgarian language translator to view this site, I offer this analysis for that simple minded reader somewhere in Eastern Europe.  This one is for you, pal.

Те наистина са идиоти

You can do it yourself here or I can translate:  They really are idiots.

We are here acting as your mental placebo

An odd concurrence of events have resulted in an unusually high volume of calls and inquiries into the FTI switchboard over the weekend.  I initially was not sure exactly what was going on, but,  now can relay how our membership and reader comments tie the whole thing  together. 

After Thursday's posting of a note received here at FTI of the  interest by a new website, Videojug.com, (their tag line is "get good at [fill in the blank]") inviting us to begin an affiliation with them, I thought nothing more of it.  I viewed it as a random, meaningless, email from one of the many crackpots whom contact us on a frequent basis.  Friday's random, unrelated posting of our Jukebox selection that was  intended  as a simple dedication to Mrs. Kfred  in marking our 29th Wedding Anniversary then generated the typical misspelled, all capitalized , response from the Green Comic whom, while well-meaning, seemingly comes across as an angry wing-nut.  Beginning Saturday morning and continuing all the way through 9 pm last night, however, the FTI switchboard became inundated with calls, inquiries, and requests by Videojug users asking how soon our contribution would be on their site.  Our under-skilled switchboard representatives had no idea what was going on and immediately summoned me from the Executive Director's quarters here at FTI to help determine what was going on.  Even I was at a loss.  What the hell are these people talking about?

It wasn't until last night that it all came together.  Fielding another call inquiring about how soon we would have a post up, I asked, "Excuse me madam.  What are you talking about?  What can we offer?  Why do you want to see  us on Videojug?" She replied,  "Research, I'm doing research.  I'm trying to find someone who is good at idiocy.  That Green Guy is a perfect example.  He has gotten good.  I always thought it was an inherent trait, but, I am trying to see if it can be learned."

Videojug and FTI: a marriage of reference and authority.   

        

Calisthenics FTI Style

Hey Kids! 

Here's a great way to act like one of the Weirdo's without causing Mom and Dad the shame of admitting your are housed at FTI.  Perform this great physical ability challenge and you will immediately be mistaken by others to be one of our team. 

The challenge is easy:   Without anyone watching you and while sitting at your desk in front of your computer, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.  Now, while doing this, draw the number '6' in the air with your right hand.  Your foot will change direction.   Better yet, ask Mom and Dad to try and then laugh with your friends when you see how dopey they look. 

The calorie loss is not due to the exercise but rather, the amount of energy used to repeatedly shake your head in disgust. 

Jukebox: 29 Years and counting. Happy Anniversary, Dear.

Are You Really Sure About This?

I received an email yesterday from Jemma  Clark, senior editor over at a new website, Videojug, whom is   searching for a select group of writers and bloggers to become Founder Members on Videojug Pages.  As she explains it, "Videojug is a powerful new self-publishing website that helps people with unique know-how & expertise (i.e. you) connect with our knowledge-hungry audience. I am searching for a select group of writers & bloggers to become Founder Members on Videojug Pages. I came across your blog - '(n) Flatline Thinking' - and was really impressed. I'd like to invite you to join our growing community of writers."  She also wanted to entice me to join by offering a "coveted Founders Badge" to prove I was part of the organization.  Of course, I didn't tell I already have the only one that matters. 

As flattered, impressed, and awestruck as I am by all of this newfound attention, I don't have the heart to inform Ms. Clark that, for the success of her new website,  I probably won't be joining her organization.  Based on the readership of this published daily struggle, apparently (and rightly) there is no huge demand for knowledge of our efforts here at FTI.  Our 2 faithful readers drop by periodically to trade verbal jabs with me and then are not tracked again for a couple of days.  Additional extensive analysis has shown that the other handful of readers here are a result  of a misdirected search engine query of individuals inquiring about the phrases "pocket-lint creations" and "blogs resembling fatal accidents". 

Ms. Clark:  I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.  I hope you make a million dollars as you move forward.  I hope you become the knowledge/resource site of the masses.  I am just not sure if our contribution will push you to that level.    We've contributed to 3 similar organizations in the past; none of them are still around.  Something about lack of content. 

Sensitivity Class is upcoming

Our group of Misfit's tend to behave themselves fairly regularly, and other than their frequent bouts of stupidity, normally act in an acceptable manner most of the time.    Our rules and code of conduct are strictly enforced.  A recent incident here highlighted the need for continuing reminders of these rules.

The Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe, is a highly sensitive, finely tuned, precisely calibrated instrument for determining the truth and is not a toy.  Each of the Misfits has that fact drilled into them on a regular basis, and I tolerate no deviation from this policy.  I was taken back a bit, then, when Dickie the Peap came up to me surprised, excited, out of breath and explaining that he had something to tell me about our mainstay marvel here at FTI.  Now, our 2 loyal readers know that the short-armed one is a frequent, (and might I add,) very easy target for ridicule.   I expected this to be one of those moments that we would all roll our eyes over what ever piece of wisdom I was about to receive.    Instead, Dickie explained that he  had been testing the accuracy of the Truthometer Deluxe with basic test questions and statements which he knew the answers to in order to confirm and chart it's accuracy.  One particular statement caused our mechanical marvel to buzz, whirr, and emit a small amount of smoke, which  caused the Frugal One to panic and immediately exit the room where the Truthometer is stored.  Dickie was worried that as he had left it in a precarious position, and had not followed the proper steps in shutting it down, the result might be some long term damage.  After investigating and determining that no actual damage had occurred, I immediately suspended Dickie from any group activities for the next week and admonished him to never do such a stupid thing again.  As of now, I consider the whole incident over.

Looking back, I shake my head over how much supervision these idiots actually need.  I tell them and tell them and tell them not to touch the Truthometer Deluxe.   It's like baby-sitting a bunch of little kids.  All of this to determine if an actual piece of equipment is working or not.  Can't they see?  Of course, it works.  

Dickie's test statement? 

"Two women were sitting quietly together, minding their own business."

That's what Friends are for

At our weekly meeting yesterday, I was informed of some displeasure and dissension over my posting and creation of  yesterday's pocket reference guide comparing the Misfits to Zombies.  The prevailing thought that I was a bit harsh, unflattering, and a bit mean spirited in doing so.  Upon further reflection, I suppose it was a bit biting and, as a result, I immediately issued an  apology.   The Zombie representative accepted my apology and that was it. 

To follow-up in that direction, I note that one of our 2 faithful readers seems to be having a blue, introspective period.  Having extensive experience in dealing with, and recognizing situations requiring, harsh interventional  tactics, I immediately  reminded this reader of steps we here at FTI can take to correct such feelings.  In no uncertain order, they include: 

1. When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.

 2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you finally got laid.

4. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about  how much worse it could be until you quit whining.

6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.

7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are  well again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall -- I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.

These are basic tactics anyone would perform to help a friend out of the dumps.  One other observation I have made is that a good friend would bail you out of jail.  A true friend would be in jail beside you. 

And people say there is no compassion left in the world anymore.  Ha!

Clip it Out and Save it

I recently received as a gift for my Birthday the book, "The Zombie Survival Guide".  I don't know what to make of it as it just reads a bit oddly.  I think the reason I am so confused is that it is obviously a humor piece, but, is written so cleverly and factually that you think it is serious.  Anyways, as I thumb through it,  I do see some reasoning for giving it to me in the first place.  The giver of the gift is aware of my position here as Executive Director of FTI and thought I might use it as a desktop reference on those days that I am feeling my situation seems a bit confusing.


As I was perusing it, it became clearer to me that there are several striking similarities between the Undead and the Misfits.  I have constructed a small, handy pocket reference guide belows.  Feel free to contact us here at FTI and we will rush you a free laminated  pocket sized replica for your wallet or purse to help you identify if you are actually dealing with a Zombie or have encountered one of the Misfits. 

Zombies	Misfits	Difference
No Intelligence	Low Intelligence	Minimal
No Language abilities	One of our guys can actually burp the "Star Spangled Banner"	Significant
No Social Dynamics	Our team set the World record for the Team Nosepicking Relay Race	We're still working on all of the words to "Kumbaya" presently.  We should be ready to perform at our Christmas Gala.
No Financial  Abilities	3 Words:  Dickie the Peap	Case Closed
Awkward Physical Coordination	Gummo the Balloon Boy can ride a bike and tie a balloon at the same time.  Blindfolded.	Useful when we conduct our off-site "Once-in-a-Lifetime/Everything Has Got To Go" vehicle disposal Sale

EDITORS NOTE:  Though this posting appears to be a helpful gift by the author for the good of the readership, full disclosure dictates this is actually the result of the state mandated once a year commitment for Community Service to be performed by the Flatline Thinking Insititute as part of their original Charter Agreement. 

Any advice given here should be taken in light of the disclosure made above.

It's Sunday Brunch

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. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow.  See you then.

Even though they are crooks, they are very similar to our team

TIRANA (Reuters) – Two would-be Albanian bank robbers were arrested Wednesday as they tried to drill a passageway into a bank vault from a shop they had rented above it, police officials said.

In an aborted heist echoing the plot of the Woody Allen film "Small Time Crooks," the two men were caught after the noise from their drilling between the upper floor shop and the bank vault alerted the authorities.

"We moved in when they were in the last stages of finishing the tunnel," Tirana police chief Tonin Vocaj told reporters.

Jukebox: And we're not talkin' Kenny G

We all have a purpose

The Summer FTI Roadtrip "Quest for Normalcy" tour has been completed and I can now start focusing on other tasks at hand.  I have scheduled a meeting with my able-bodied Assistant Director/Trustee, Giacommo, for a full review of activities during my absence later this afternoon.  A cursory review of our daily Stupidity log indicates nothing out of the ordinary; of course, with Giacommo on watch I would have expected nothing less.  Regardless, I am prepared to deal swiftly and decisively should  anything arise. 

The final leg of our tour took us to Tulsa, Oklahoma in support of activities of Dilbertland.  As noted earlier, Dilbertland is overall fairly sane, though I can see some potential for unbridled stupidity lurking near the surface.  One of our 2 Faithful readers questioned the need to go to Oklahoma in an earlier comment: What? Tulsa? You are in Oklahoma, seriously? Who comes to Oklahoma ? to which I would reply in the same vein in regard to this site: What?  You are reading this stuff, seriously? Who reads this shit?  Not wanting to appear snarky or condescending, I gently remind our 2 faithful readers that if not for their unwavering periodic reading of this drivel, my work here would devolve into something equal to  the anonymous toiling away of an obituary writer for the weekly community newspaper. 

Upon further reflection, I just realized that at least that guy was writing about someone whom actually had a life.  The idiots I am surrounded with have never had one.

Get the roadies to hurry up

A quick update before I am out of here:

The final leg of the Summer FTI Roadtrip "Quest for Normalcy" tour kicks off today.  I am off To Tulsa, Oklahoma for a related function of Dilbertland activities and meetings.  Dilbertland is, by and large,  reliable, predictable, and dependable,  Lately, however, some actions and decisions have left me scratching my head to make me think perhaps this may actually be a preview for our fall FTI  tryouts scheduled for later in the season to add new members to our cast.  If so, I may have more ahead of me than I originally planned, 

Regardless, the environment should be target rich and the activities similar to what I experience on a daily basis.  I will try to make some remote broadcasts,  otherwise, a full report will be here on Thursday morning.   

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.

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.