It's labeled "ON"

I have been out of town doing work on behalf of the good folks of Dilbertland and, as a result, did not bring my computer with me.  I am now back, but, am now experiencing other difficulties which are resulting in some transmission difficulties. 

Having arrived at the compound in the early evening from completing my duties, I immediately headed for my Executive Living quarters (aka the FTI Nerve Center) and discovered that we were without power in that area of the compound.  I am currently posting from my auxilary backup laptop in order not to break the continuity of the excellence in thinking, not withstanding our recent 2 day absence.  Regardless,  the well rounded Executive Director that I am, I immediately began the electrical investigation routine so common with most people:  I wiggled the plug at the wall.  Nothing.  Waiting for another 5 minutes and thinking that something must reset in that time, I repeated the step above.  Same result.  I quickly realized that I would most likely have to move to second level diagnostic tests and hearkened back to my training when I was a youngster under the tutelage of my Father, an electrician by trade and our Emeritus Executive Director, in  Memoriam.  This procedure consists of the collection of various electrical tools, a volt meter, some baling wire, and psyching myself into a mindset that usually involved a bunch of swearing.  (I never did know what the wire was for, but, that man could fix most things with baling wire.).  Having none of these tools except the ability to swear, I went to the panel box in the utility area of the compound, removed the framebox and located the appropriate circuit breaker labeled "Nerve Center" and flipped the breaker.  Nothing.  In the meantime, Mrs Kfred is ably assisting me in the task to get in the swearing mood by repeatedly yelling "Nope, Nothing's happening!" while I run  through the diagnostic checklist.   Having spent approximately one half hour with no positive results, I am throwing in the towel and calling a professional out to look it over. 

In the end, I suspect I have a bad breaker.  I noted there was no spark when I pulled the breaker in question and re-attached it into the panel box.  Nothing that, I'm sure, a $100 service call can't fix.  I do find it odd, however that the original electrician in question chose to label this area as the "Nerve Center".     Should we ever suffer some sort of sabotage by members of a competitive thinking organization, this would be the logical place to attack first.  Normally, most organizations think of their members as their most valued parts and see losing them as the most damaging thing that could affect their abilities to compete.  Should some other organization try to lure away Gummo the Balloon Boy or Dickey the Peap to think for them, logic would dictate that this single act would bring our work to an end.  Not so.  Just flip the switch on the Nerve Center Breaker.  Everything stops.     

 

Ah, I see you have a reservation

I by no means think that the recent news of the killing of Osama Bin Laden indicate that the "good guys" immediately win the war on terror. It does, however, make a lot of people feel much better. And I am one of them. Couldn't happen to a better guy. And now,  back to our regularly scheduled programming:
_____________________________________________

 Marv, the Neighbor sent this one along.  I thought it was pretty good.  I can tell it with no fear of retribution as Mrs. Kfred is a "Cat-Lick" and she thought it was pretty good. 

Sister Mary Katherine entered the Convent of Silence.


 The Priest said, 'Sister, this is a silent monastery. You are welcome here as long as you like, but you may not speak until directed to do so. '

Sister Mary Katherine lived in the monastery for 5 years before the Priest said to her, 'Sister Mary Katherine, you have been here for 5 years. You may speak two words.'

Sister Mary Katherine said, 'Hard bed.'

I'm sorry to hear that,' the Priest said, 'We will get you a better bed.'

After another 5 years, Sister Mary Katherine was summoned by the Priest. 'You may say another two words, Sister Mary Katherine.'

'Cold food,' said Sister Mary Katherine, and the Priest assured her that the food would be better in the future.

On her 15th anniversary at the monastery, the Priest again called Sister Mary Katherine into his office. 'You may say two words today.'

'I quit,' said Sister Mary Katherine.

'It's probably best,' said the Priest, 'You've done nothing but bitch since you got here.'

Jukebox: It doesn't always Fly

It's a long time coming









A disappointing announcement came through yesterday that just seems to defy all type of logic.

The 2011 FTI Dopes Trial has been postponed for another month due to, according to the administrative clerk of our county, "circumstances beyond our control". I have no idea what that means. Did our retiring judge choose to upgrade to the "premium" package and opt for an additional 7 days on his retirement cruise? Has the idiot defendant once again gamed the system? (I find this scenario unlikely as I am sure Shifty, my lawyer, would be all over this one.) All I know is that we are now out one more month, the first week of June, to once and for all settle our wee bit of controversy.

I assigned the idiot members of the FTI IT Department (the most reviled department here at FTI) to create some type of countdown clock to post on our page (if, for nothing else, my own satisfaction and as a reminder to how long justice truly takes in our society). So far over 24 hours of brainstorming, they have come up with the brilliant result pictured above. I summarily rejected this idea and demanded something a bit more high tech, but, allowed it due to our pressing publishing deadline this morning. I cannot, however, fault them for their description of the measurement of time.  This description truly portrays a long, long time.   

Oh, It's that kind of Trunk Organizer

Apparently not thinking our cause was worthy or having read our letter a scant 9 months ago explaining so, I got another request from A. Barry Rand, Executive Director at the AARP, in the mail yesterday to once again join his organization. I thought my well reasoned, clearly thought-out, succinct letter spelled our position in detail that anyone could understand.  Alas, A. Barry, even your bribe of the FREE Trunk Organizer is simply not enough to pony up the annual $16 to be a part of the Old Folks League.  I do,  however A., want to  introduce you to a fellow whom also sent me a request to join his organization as well yesterday.  Perhaps the 2 of you should speak with one another.  Really, the fact that your 2 letters arrived in my mailbox at the same time was kind of interesting.  Anyways,  he won't bite.  His name is John.  John:  A. Barry.  A. Barry: John.

John's request was a 2 page letter that didn't offer me anything as cool as the FREE Trunk Organizer.  He was also much more aggressive in asking for money. 3 times in his message he implored me to send $25, $50, or $100 to his organization to help them meet their goals as well.  He buttered me up by calling me a leader, explained his goals,  and then thanked me for all I have done and for what I continue to do.   Our work here at the Institute is fairly non-descript and so I was a bit surprised that he even knew of it, but, there it was.  In writing.  On his own personalized stationery.  A letter from John thanking me for my efforts and asking for some money.  I tossed it as quick as I tossed old A. Barry's request.   Someone always has their hand out looking for money.

It's funny.  We have been toiling here on a very modest budget since our beginning.  I actually have been thinking of applying for a government grant to continue the fine work we do here.  Knowing the current budget process is trying to identify as much unnecessary and wasteful expenditures, I guess I would have to make a strong case in order to receive any  of this money.  I would have to have an "in" with someone; I would have to "know" someone at the top that could streamline the process and cut through the bullshit. I went back to the garbage and pulled John's letter back out and then it hit me.  I do know someone.  I know John Boehner, the Speaker of the House!  He wrote to me.  We're pen pals. 

I wonder if I will get a piece of real ivory if I send money. 
  

It's Easter Sunday

It's the Holiest of Days in the Christian Religion.  And just like our idiots seem to celebrate their own type of  religion, we take time to pause and celebrate as well.  I'm taking the staff out to Brunch.

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.

Easter Bunny Go Home

For only the fourth time in what seems about 2 months, it is actually bright, light, and a sunshine filled morning today. I intend to get outdoors and plant some new vegetation that has suffered over the winter.

I have suspended our normal FTI Easter Egg Hunt/Beer Garden Plaza Event after the results of last year's fiasco.   We didn't get all of the chicken legs collected and the resulting rotting of meat attracted wild animals  and produced a horrible smell which was initially mistaken as emanating from  the FTI wastewater treatment facility.  Regardless, it's a new day and a new beginning.

For his sake, I hope the Easter Bunny doesn't think he needs to stop here.  There is enough make believe going on.  We don't need any more. 

Jukebox: Now where is that bunny suit?

A Funeral for A Friend

I am having lunch with Dickey the Peap today. 

We had originally scheduled to have lunch tomorrow, but, a change in date of an event  for Friday altered our plans, so, today it is. I believe it is the little miser's turn to buy and that in itself should make for a joyous day.   In making our plans, however, I discovered that  the Frugal One is burdened with a heavy heart.  It seems that the recent passing of a very close friend (whom I have never met) of our boy and the very odd friendship these two shared has made his attitude blue.  I understand. These things are painful and, for Dickey, this one hits home fairly hard.  In wanting to give him some comfort in realizing these things occur, that death is really a part of life, and truly wanting to help, I asked Dickey if he would share a  copy of the eulogy with me.  My intent was maybe I could add my own thoughts as well.  Here is what he gave to me: 

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life and pay homage to the passing of an old friend.  Though I know that none of you never knew him, he certainly knew all of you.  Some of you even better than others.  Regardless, no one should leave this earth without a small remembrance.  And that, my friends, is why we are here today. 

The Bible tells us that if we work on behalf of the Lord's Glory, though, we may not earn riches here on Earth, our reward will be bountiful in heaven.  Fortunately, the Lord did bless our friend with many riches and abundant blessings during his time on earth.  And yet, with all of God's graces showered upon him, his sharing of those riches, by intent,  was extremely limited.   Never once, was he first to offer his help, share his treasure, or host the event.  No friends, this concept was a foreign one to him. 

You see friends, his  place in life was always the same:   He knew where to remain.  Hidden.  Obscured.  Away from the Action.  Whether it be left behind in the car,  hiding away at home, or just remaining in plain sight and not moving a muscle, our dear friend steadfastly refused to join and get involved.  No amount of coaxing was about to move him.  And now, he is gone.  Forever.  For never more.

And so it is, ashes to ashes and dust to dust.    From this earth you were formed and to this earth you will return.  Good bye, dear Friend. 

Thinking that this special relationship that Dickey shared with his dog must have been one of a kind, it almost brought tears to my eyes.  I was just about to say that  you can never replace a loyal dog and I would understand if he waited a bit before getting another one.  Then, after reading all of this, it hit me!  Dickey never had a dog. I know what he is doing on Friday afternoon!  He is going shopping. He has to get a new wallet. The old one died. 

A bit of Faith restored

Talk about impeccable timing!  No sooner than I had chronicled the  experience of our upcoming Trial of the Century, the 2011 FTI Dopes Trial, than I receive an email yesterday afternoon from my lawyer, Shifty, that the preliminary appeal by the idiot defendant had been denied by the appellate court!    This opens up a huge door in our case and effectively blocks the other side from advancing their idiotic positions  any further, not to mention saving us valuable time (and dollars!). 

We have waited over 2 and one half years to get to this point and many times I have wondered if this struggle is worth it.  Many sleepless nights of worry, anger, and frustration have occurred due the greedy actions of one individual that never had to come to this point.  Mrs. Kfred, myself, and our fellow plaintiffs have only wanted nothing but one thing in this whole affair: to be treated fairly and evenly.  This isn't about money.  It's not about power.  It's not about control.  It's about doing the right thing. Unfortunately, we have had to sue to have the right thing done.  I know I am talking in code and I have not revealed what this is all about, but,  it will come out shortly. 

And believe me.  There will be a big blowout when this is all finished.  I think I hear the band warming up.   

Our temporary leave is over

Our normal production of meaningful analysis and commentary has been interrupted a bit over the last couple of weeks due to our involvement with the FTI Legal team for the upcoming trial of the century (instead of the landmark 1925 Scopes Trial, this is to be identified as the 2011 FTI Dopes Trial). The Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe® is now safely back here at FTI having been loaned out to our lawyer, Shifty, for his use and assistance in actually finding the truth.  The FTD® was put through the most demanding of analytical trial periods that even exceed what the manufacturer had ever intended the mechanical marvel to perform and it functioned brilliantly.

During legal discovery, a number of statements, documents, scenarios, and possibilities were examined and judged to be anywhere on a scale of , "Well, thats kind of how it happened", to "Nah, that's Bullshit".  (Most of it was on this lower end of the spectrum).    I will discuss the trial once we get underway, but, can't before we actually begin.  I can offer one teaser however: last week, the idiot defendant got frustrated during depositions and called Shifty a "chump" on the record.    The  FTD® registered nary a hiccup over that statement. (OK, that was a cheap lawyer joke.  Shifty is a good guy and I am glad he is pushing our case for us).  I guess when your defense starts to unravel before you own eyes, it can't be a comforting feeling, and you get a bit frustrated.   

Anyway, we're back, the Dopes trial is a mere 15 days away, and I am once again determined to offer the truth as only we can present it.  A final note:  at no time during our intellectual absence was anything published here that did not meet out strict adherence to a policy of complete accuracy, forthrightness, and openness.  After all, if I lied about it, it would actually improve out reputation.

It's Palm Sunday

It's one week before the Holiest of Days in the Christian Religion.  And just like our idiots seem to celebrate their own type of  religion, we take time to pause and celebrate as well.  I'm taking the staff out to Brunch.

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.

Oh, that explains it

An actual study conducted on our behalf succinctly, accurately, and fairly,  pretty much sums up my position here as Executive Director.

I commissioned this study by an outside affiliate whom has increasingly displayed the tendencies to become a member of our staff and, as a result, will be recommending him for induction during our next membership drive. In the meantime, I display his work for your review.

Jukebox: I'm anklin'

FTI Math

Part of the intellectual pursuit/behind-the-scenes struggle occurring last week included a small subset drama over my personal compensation.

Though clearly enunciated in the "About FTI" tab at the top of this page that states "we have agreed to perform this community service for an undetermined amount of time at no cost", a small (think Dickey the Peap meal tip type of small) caretaker fee is given to me on a monthly basis. Having performed this service for the past 2 years with no adjustment whatsoever, I quietly approached our Cheap-Assed Board of Directors in the hopes they would address this issue. When the intellectual disagreement issue came to a head, though, my stipend issue was quickly moved down the list of priorities and it was tabled by the BOD. Now, that the intellectual content matter has been settled, I am pleased to announce that an agreement to increase my stipend by 2.5% has been reached.

Let see, I think I can do this one in my head: that's, uh, this times .025, carry the 9, bring down the 7, move 3 decimal points to the left, and add 2. Got it. I am now at officially at the US Government's Poverty level. God, this is a great gig!

It's Reconciliation Sunday

An agreement has been reached and a major crisis resolved:   we're gonna be able to produce the continuing stupidity some more . Due to the grueling negotiations, however, we are taking today off and enjoying our normal Sunday brunch. 

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: Our claim to Normalcy, that is

We are definitely at an impasse

We are currently facing a stalemate of epic proportions as to the direction we wish to pursue in the future here at FTI.     I can't seem to get the 2 factions of our intellectual debate  to give enough of their respective positions in order to find a common ground.  Alas, we may be in for as shutdown if some type of agreement is not met shortly.

As noted yesterday, I had the "Chump Chatter" faction submit an example of the type of material they wished to pursue.  Still liking the art idea that the Chump Chatter group advanced, yesterday, I asked the other side to produce a piece of art they would offer in  alignment with their stated policy direction.   Fully expecting a highbrow, clearly defined, intellectually advanced piece of work, I was sadly disappointed with the example offered:

I was uncertain of the relevance of this offering and asked  how the Whacko, Weirdo, Misfit faction would describe this lovely velvet painting.   I was told this piece was symbolic of  a man whom walked on water, changed lives, and was misunderstood by most people  during his short life here on earth.  And  "we haven't even begun to describe Jesus' life experience."  

I have already notified the utility company to prepare to suspend service to the FTI compound for the foreseeable future. 
    

Could this argument shut us down?

Ripped from the pages of today headlines, a battle is brewing here at FTI that is similar to a battle being currently fought in the public arena.  Fortunately, it has nowhere near the complications involved. 

At our normal Monday staff meeting, a chasm was revealed that could result in a shutdown here at FTI unless some sort of compromise is not reached. Unlike the Federal government's battle between political parties about government spending, our differences emanate over a battle of intellectual pursuit. On the surface, I know that sound like an oxymoron, however deeper investigation shows an argument vigorously defended by both points of view. On one side, there is an element that supports our original charter and purpose to (as noted in our "About FTI" tab at the top of this page)"offer policy analysis, event commentary, and recount observations as generated by the same staff that mental health professionals have identified as Weirdos, Whackos, and Misfits." Seems straight forward enough. The other faction wants to take our purpose in another direction resulting in nonsense, drivel, and a daily feature known as "Chump Chatter" that basically highlights questionable investments, 20 year old jokes, balloon tying tricks, and examples of "art".  I, as Executive Director, have stayed above the fray, but see myself increasingly getting drawn into this mess. Being the Broker of Peace that I am, I summoned both factions to the Executive Suite here at FTI to facilitate some type of negotiations. I am familiar with the side that wants to keep our purpose status quo, but, was interested in raising our intellectual angle and thought the art idea was interesting.   I decided to ask the other side to submit some type of example that I could study so I could make a recommendation to the cheap-Assed Board of Directors for their consideration.

The resulting submittal speaks for itself.  I hope our mission suffers no interruptions. 

Family Secrets

I received an email from Dickey the Peap over the weekend.  It's always a good thing to get an email  from him.  Although you can't tell it from some of my thoughts posted here, I do enjoy his company.  (A lot of the time it is more for the comedic relief than anything else, but, hey that's OK.  He knows it as well.) Anyways, he followed it up with  a phone call  where he tells me of his various past activities in the week including now cornering the market in his latest venture which has produced MORE untold riches for the little miser.   I digress, however, back to the email.  It seems  the Peap read  our post concerning family memories, was intrigued by it, and wanted to add a personal highlight of his own.  After reviewing and discussing his submission with him, I only shake my head in wonder.  Why someone would submit a photo so personal and humiliating as this is beyond wonder.  I asked if he might want to reconsider and share something of a less personal nature.  "No, it accurately reflects my life and this is how I want it shared."  Not wanting to add more misery and disappointment to the little dwarf's existence, I post it here for your review.  I am unaware if Mrs. The Peap knows he submitted this or not.    

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. 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.

Jukebox: My everyday goal

Some reconstruction of Memory Lane

Kfred Jr. and Goldilocks gave Mrs. Kfred a belated birthday gift while attending the FTI Open House event over the weekend. It was only belated in the fact that he didn't forget, rather, they couldn't get the gift on time  for her birthday in January.  Regardless, it's one of those gifts she will always have.  They converted old video tapes onto digital disk.  And we will have it forever. 

During the formative years of both Kfred Jr's. 1 and 2 during the 90's, we had a video camera.  Starting with the initial rental of the 2-piece, 10 lb monster with the  battery pack you wore on your hip (does anyone remember those in today's age of miniaturization?) to a simple 8mm hand cam we later owned, we documented our families life and events.   Birthday parties, Christmas time, plays, game, etc.  It's all there.  And wow!  The weight was a bit less, the hair was a bit darker, the clothes were a bit different, and the memories were completely forgotten.  But it was (and will always be) fun to go back in time and relive the experiences. 

Mrs. Kfred actually cried during a couple of scenes.  From  the joy of seeing 2 little boys whom have grown to fine men to Grandma and Grandpa still being with us and marveling at "that thing" to the people and events of our past suddenly recreated and visited, it's all there.  And of course, so is the embarrassing stuff.

I know that Kfred Jr. made copies of all of the disks for his own enjoyment.  We plan to make a set for his brother as well.     Obviously, it only means anything of value to our family.  I think the cousins in Colorado might take notice, though, as they might be appearing on a video snippet on Facebook in a less than flattering light.   Hey, it's all in fun.  And I can go back anytime.

It's not easy being me

After a brief hiatus from my official duties as chief correspondent here at FTI, I am back and ready to go. Perhaps, a little bit less enthused for the moment, but, certainly ready to go.  What a weekend.

Let's start in the beginning:   After spending a full weekend on Saturday working with the FTI legal team and hosting an open house yesterday here at the compound, I was busy.    All of Saturday was spent with the FTI legal team scanning and reviewing documents for use in  our official upcoming Kangaroo court appearance and testimony.  The FTI legal team is populated with some of the legal professions brightest minds and I am confident that a the end of the day,  justice will prevail.  Then yesterday,  I missed the "How to remove Moles from your Yard" seminar at the local nursery as it is apparent one of our alumni are in charge of the reader board there. Previously in the week, the sign advertised the event as occurring at "11 am Sunday, the 26th". The careful calendar observer will note that unless they are thinking of November 26, 2011, the date for March is inaccurate.  As I show up at the appointed time yesterday, I note there are only 5 cars in the parking lot and chalk it up to a rainy Sunday morning. I then am informed that the event was actually held the day before, Saturday, the 26th, and was well attended by over 100 people.  All I got for my efforts was a lousy tri-fold pamphlet basically designed to sell mole traps.    Idiots.    In the meantime the little bastard and his ilk are raising havoc in my yard.

Then last night, after wrapping up the open house here at the compound at 9 pm, I note a failed electric circuit including the one routing the FTI nerve center from where this drivel is produced.  Immediately dispatching our multiple FTI electrical engineering teams with instructions to report back to me on an every 5 minute interval basis, I note there is a  void of any useful information coming in.  Observing one of the teams in action, I note their activity consists of a single member, repeatedly flipping a switch at the panel box with no apparent result and summarizing with the statement, "I dunno, nothing seems to be happening".    Realizing that perhaps this member is actually mistakenly deployed to the wrong assignment and would be better suited placed on our critical Analysis and Policy Direction  (APD)committee, I try to intervene.  In the end, a request to re-route an entire circuit, with the accompanying infrastructure buildout, obligatory  overtime labor charges,  and accompanying parts was submitted to me.  Carefully reviewing the request and budgetary liabilities, I immediately vetoed this idea and handled the situation personally with a time tested solution:  A long extension cord to another circuit with a 6 plug power strip to handle all items involved.  Problem solved.

It's Monday,  A new day.   A new week.  I just hope I don't break my neck tripping over that damn cord. 

Jukebox: This is directly adjacent to the edge

It's how much?!

This eerily sounds like the behavior of you-know-who when the check comes after lunchtime.  Perhaps, not to this level of anger, but, the outrage and shock are surely identical. 

SAN ANTONIO (Reuters) – A Taco Bell drive-through customer who became enraged because of a price increase on Beefy Crunch Burritos fired a BB gun through the window at a manager on Sunday, police said.

No one was hurt from the shots fired by the man, who also waved a pistol and an assault rifle in the parking lot, Police Sergeant Chris Benavides said.

As the restaurant's employees and customers hit the floor, the manager called police, and when officers arrived, the angry patron fired several shots at the police cars, Benavides said.

The man then barricaded himself inside a nearby motel room, sparking a standoff that lasted until police lobbed tear gas inside and the man surrendered.

Benavides said the burritos had been sold for 99 cents each as a promotion, but the man was apparently angry that the promotion had ended, and the price had gone up to $1.49.

The easy way never works

This past Saturday I decided I would cheat the pain and loss of sleep associated with my standard weekend exercise regimen of rising at 5:30 for the 45 minute regimen, and instead opt to sleep in and do some yardwork instead. Thinking that a couple hours of less intensive work would be a good substitute instead of the high energy workout route, I slumbered merrily along without a second thought.

One key factor in my calculations which I failed to address was the fact that the yard work entailed pushing around a 250 lb. lawn roller to flatten the lawn where those little bastard moles have created havoc in my yard. 2 hours later after pushing and pulling that thing around, I had completely soaked/sweat through 2 shirts on a day where the recorded high was 49 degrees. Today, 2 days later, I feel every muscle in my shoulders and upper body. And they ache.

Next time, I will set the alarm clock.

Jukebox: While we are on the Subject

It must be in the genes

Forgive me for a little self-reflection this morning. Much like the old Ann Landers advice columns, today's post is a "Personal To:" type of submission. It is only meaningful to a specific person. Feel free to exit now and come back tomorrow; you won't hurt my feelings.

Besides Brother Eddie, I have a younger brother, Ace. Ace and I have grown closer over the years and share many of the same traits and values. He got the money, I got the brains, and the looks are a toss-up. We speak to each other 2 -3 times a week, normally about nothing very serious, but, we aren't afraid to ask each other for expertise in our various fields of interest. It is a good relationship and has strengthened as we have gotten older. Like I, he takes life as it comes and doesn't allow it to control him. Yesterday, he experienced some medical procedures with some slight unforeseen consequences out of the ordinary. We spoke yesterday and he will now proceed with plan B. No big deal. Had this been experienced by Brother Eddie, however, a dramatic production would have unfolded. A fully ready intensive care medical team, complete with world quality testing equipment surely would have been at the ready on a moment's notice. To reduce the drama, Ace simply relayed, via email, the seriousness of his situation, the potential and probable excruciating pain associated, along with the certain extended time needed for full recovery back to Brother Eddie to minimize any unwanted advice as to how to proceed. It was a classic message, with skewering points, and yet, completely informative at the same time.

Our lineage can be traced to our father, (whom I have named as Executive Director, Emeritus at FTI as I am sure he would enjoy this exercise if he were still here) who possessed a key wit and wry sense of humor. It's good to know that this key trait was passed on and I am not the only smart ass in the family.

Ace, Well done. Well done, indeed.

RE: 8

As evidenced by the mindless exchanges with Dickey the Peap, we here at FTI are thoroughly willing to engage our reading audience on a regular basis. Most of the dialog is based on  my observations of acts by the little, short-armed, miser committing some type of act to avoid meeting basic financial responsibilities. I use this forum as a vehicle to point out the obvious and hopefully shame the little dwarf into doing the right thing. He then replies to adjust the public record on his own behalf.  To date, I have been wholly unsuccessful, but, that will not deter me from continuing to do so. Now, it turns out, one of our 2 faithful readers is getting in to the act.

I received an email Saturday from one of the 2 with the subject line of "Re:8". That was it; nothing else. Opening the email, I found  one sentence: "Nothing is impossible" and an unknown link to another webpage. I had no idea what this was about. Was this site being ranked 8 out of 10? Were we finally going to be awarded the highly coveted recognition we so richly deserve here at FTI? Was this message a note of encouragement to continue ahead when faced with the daily realization that the dunderheads, dolts, and dopes inhabiting our population are merely the burdens we bear when producing this crap? Excitedly thinking of the possibilities, I clicked on the link: I was immediately directed to the Canadian Health and Care Mall website which prominently advertised Viagra, Cialis, and Levitra on the front page along with other mail order pharmaceuticals.   I think this suggestion was a bit over the top, highly intrusive on my personal life, and, to say the least, misdirected. 

I am not totally put off, however.  I do note that Seroquel, a drug used in mental health therapy, can be had for $3.86 per dose.  Perhaps, all is not lost.

It's Clock changin' Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's clock changin' Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think on time. Plus, 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.

Water? Check. Blankets? Check. We're good to go.

The recent earthquake in Japan was a terrible tragedy and our thoughts and prayers go out to all people affected by this phenomena regardless of their location in the world. Obviously, Japan took the brunt of the powerful destruction, but damage  (and a few cases of loss of life) in Hawaii, the Western US ports, and elsewhere in the Pacific was noted.

This event also served as an example for Mrs. Kfred, our Director of Institute Safety, to remind us here at FTI to make preparations for the coming "Big One". Initially, I thought this might be raising the alarm factor a bit high, but, I have since become "persuaded and educated" on the wisdom of this mindset. I immediately sent a memo for each of the Misfits to plan accordingly and offer suggestions we may implement in preparation.  The results were less than impressive:

• Gummo, the Balloon Boy, offered that we have extra tanks of helium on hand to inflate "get away" balloons should the need arise.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that this type of solution is only useful in cartoons and  comic strips.  He is currently unaware of any imminent danger and is presently tying balloons to his bicycle to double as an alternative all-terrain vehicle should the need arise.  Touch down to the ground and pedal away. 

• The Green Comic immediately formulated the definition of a cow in an earthquake is more commonly known as a "Milkshake".  Welcome to 8 year old comedy.

• Dickey the Peap totally ignored our request and has not been heard from at all.  I assume that he is deep underground in his protected lair, a concrete-lined stump, which he has steadfastly maintained and  expanded over the years. This location also serves as the area where he  repeatedly counts and logs all of  the money he has squirreled away.  Good to know that at least one of the Misfits will survive regardless of what happens in time.    

I don't know what will happen when the"Big One" hits.  From the suggestions given to me, I am quite confident we won't make it anyway.   

Jukebox: Much like everything written here

OK, give me all the ... oops, just a minute

I found this piece of video and am trying to see if he was, in fact, an alumni of our organization. I don't think he was as we certainly do not condone criminal activity, however, his thinking process is eerily familiar.

And headlining next week..........

The Green Comic called me yesterday to inform me that he will be opening at his newest venue on Friday.  I wish him a long successful run and am sure he will do well. 

Green is the type of Comic whom will assume any persona and  shows up in full costume ready to perform on a moment's notice.  Recently playing for tips only  has forced him to suspend internet service which robs him of the ability to search for previously used jokes to employ in his act.  As a result, his material has taken a decidedly old detour through the 50's with stolen  "re-worked" material from Shecky Greene, Bob Hope, and other comedians from 2 generations ago.  

Though, I have noted his mean streak previously, he is a good sport as he takes a fair amount of ribbing from me and never truly gets spiteful back.   Planning is already underway for this summer's Lost Reunion Tour 2 event in which I plan to  visit the library with him to find material that is truly in the public venue and which does not violate existing copyright laws.  It will be a brand new experience for him. 

Lose 5 pounds in a single afternoon: go shopping

My weight reduction program is moving smoothly ahead with tangible, visible results. Despite the nay-saying, smart-assed, observations from the little, short-armed, tab-ducking, Warren Buffet wannabe, I have clocked in at a hair over 5 lbs lost in 75 days time. Nothing earth shattering, but, I will take it and I really haven't changed my lifestyle much other than exercising fairly regularly.

As noted elsewhere, I have, however, discovered an easy alternative method to have friends and co-workers comment about your recent weight loss and boost your self esteem.  In addition to the grinding 5:00 am workout routines, commitment to fitness, and occasional monitoring of alcohol intake to achieve weight loss, you can get those same positive comments.
"Gee! you look great. Have you lost some weight?"

"Nah. I just bought bigger clothes."

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. 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.

Mea Culpa

Increasingly being accused by one disgruntled reader for the sharpness of tone at this site, I would like to pause to give credit where credit is due. Feeling constantly picked on and, yet, having a lackey do his bidding for him, I want to acknowledge the success of Mr. X for his recent stock picking prowess.

I received an excited phone call from Mr. X recently in detailing his latest success in picking a profitable stock (though insider spies indicate that Dickey the Peap's on-loan-out dart throwing, stock picking, guru/primate Irving the Peap, was actually responsible for the exact choice of company) investment. X finally found a company that earned him a tidy small 4 digit  profit within a few days and he wanted to share his success with me. Of course, me being the generous, happy, magnanimous, correspondent that I am, I am more than happy to relay this success and want to tout it to the world.

I guess that now he no longer has to be ashamed (as we noted earlier) of operating Anchorline Investing: "We drop immediately and never get off of the bottom".

Jukebox: This is just good advice

Will you need help up to your room?

The FTI travel department is currently engaged in a feverish search to find Mrs Kfred and myself reasonably priced and suitable accommodations in New York City for our pending visit later this spring. The results to date are such that even our most fervent skinflint, Dickey the Peap, may have met his match.

We want to stay in midtown Manhattan as it is centrally located to most of the big name tourist attractions.  Note, I did not say the better attractions.  There just is so much to see and do that you have to prioritize your visit. One can stay further outside and save some money, but taxi fares into Manhattan  will just eat you up financially and I have no intention of renting a car to be driven in New York City. I am adventurous; I am not manic.   Suggestions of staying at hotels with shared baths to inquiring at hostels or using the Peap's method of browbeating an elderly desk clerk  to a 60% reduction  to get rid of him are just not my style. Using Priceline's "name your own price" method is a bit scary as you don't know where the actual hotel is until you have paid for it. 

Part of the problem is that I have insisted upon booking the suite options befitting my status as Executive Director here at FTI.    While inquiring for space, our staff was told there would be no problem.  Twice while making inquiries, however, our travel department has detected hesitation on the part of reservation clerks when being told the name of our organization and suddenly glitches occurred.   Excuses were prevalent:  Suites  suddenly rented;  Blocks of room not previously filled suddenly disappeared;  Prior cancellations magically re-booked; a no goat policy was in effect.       

I get the distinct feeling there is something going on.  I will find suitable accommodations.  I just am not sure that I am willing to attend the morning prayer service in order to get a cot. 

They are kind of skimpy with the cheese aren't they?

I think this one is taking competition for customers  just a bit too far

PHILADELPHIA (Reuters) – The owner of a suburban Philadelphia pizza shop was arraigned on Tuesday on charges he schemed to plant live mice in competing pizza parlours in hope of putting them out of business.

Nickolas Galiatsatos, owner of Nina's Bella Pizzeria in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania, is accused of putting bags of mice at nearby competitors on Monday afternoon, according to Upper Darby Police Superintendent Michael Chitwood.

The owner of Verona Pizza watched Galiatsatos go into his restroom carrying a bag but emerge empty-handed, and alerted two patrol officers who were in the restaurant, Chitwood said.

The officers found a bag of mice and footprints on a toilet seat, suggesting someone had been trying to reach the ceiling tiles, he said.

The officers then found Galiatsatos near another pizza place, Uncle Nick's, where he was seen putting something in a trash can. There, police found a bag containing five mice, Chitwood said.

"This guy planted them to put these guys out of business," Chitwood said.

"I've been at this for 47 years, and I've never seen mice used as a criminal tool," he added.

Galiatsatos claimed his shop had been infested with mice, and he blamed his competitors for the problem, he said.

Chitwood said that Galiatsatos told police he bought the mice at a pet shop for $10.

He faces misdemeanour charges of cruelty to animals, criminal mischief, harassment and disorderly conduct.

You are getting sleepy.... sleepy....slee.....

Awakening from a dream this morning, I had some real mixed feelings.

I had been restfully sleeping and drifted off to a surreal experience where I was informed that I was going to be laid off from work. I couldn't believe this was happening and began to panic not realizing what I was going to tell Mrs. Kfred to keep her calm or how I was going to meet my monthly obligations without a job. It was all so real. I tried to convince the messenger that it was a mistake and that they should keep me, but, I was told the decision had been made and that they were sorry.

I don't remember what else occurred but, did finally wake up. It took me a few minutes to come out of the fog and realize it was all a dream and that nothing had changed. The good news: I still have a job. The bad news: It wasn't my job here at FTI they were eliminating; it was my position in Dilbertland.

I think I will go back to sleep.

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. 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.

It's Ironic you got a hold of us here

A couple of recent events have made me become increasingly worried about our reputation here at FTI.

In the last 24 hours I have received both a phone call on my personal Executive Director's secure line and an email from 2 different people I do not know inquiring into issues that I know nothing about. The phone call involved an inquiry and request to call back concerning the "Camry" I had available on Craigslist. I have never owned a Camry before.  The second incident was an email from an individual wanting to know if I was "under a gag order" as I hadn't responded to an earlier email. The sad thing is I never received an earlier email.

As relayed above, in both cases I have no idea what these people are talking about.   I find Craigslist readers to be a bit strange and the site itself is nothing more than an electronic want ads site. I don't peruse there any more than I would the ads in the newspaper. If I'm not buying, I'm not interested. NowI have used Craigslist to sell small items before but find that most of the respondents want you to pay them to take stuff and then never show when they state that they  "will be right out". As to being under a "gag order", I don't even know where to start with that one.

Obviously, I am proud of the work here at FTI, but certainly don't trumpet it very loudly for fear of ridicule, shame, and embarrassment.  For the Misfits. Not me.

Jukebox: I'm not quite this lively when drinking wine

And now, a word from our Sponsor

I received an email yesterday from "Jason" at Blogflux who informed me that they have "been quiet for a while, but there is a lot going on in the background and new tools are coming." Jason also informed me that a new tool they would like to offer was a widget called the Daily Deals Widget. For our 2 faithful non-geek readers, a widget is an embedded tool put onto a blog much like our readers globe or the Stupidity Knows No Borders reader meter. Anyways this tool is designed for those living in the US, Canada, UK, Australia, or New Zealand, and is added to the site to show our users the latest daily deals in the local area.

Immediately suspecting this was nothing but another ploy advanced by Dickey the Peap to enjoy another free lunch, I tested the tool to check it out. Thankfully, there were no offers for free lunches for freeloaders, though, I did notice the 60% off savings offer on Waxing services at Bare Down There Waxing.  

I know there is a joke there somewhere. I just can't seem to identify it. 

Talk about procrastinators

I noted this news item from this past weekend; this past President's Day weekend, February 20, 2011! 

WASHINGTON (Reuters) – America's National Christmas Tree came tumbling down Saturday in a windstorm that battered the U.S. capital.

The 47-year-old, 42-foot-high (13-metre) Colorado blue spruce, which the president lit each year to mark the Christmas season, snapped near its base on the Ellipse near the White House.

"We're glad that there are no injuries," said Bill Line, a spokesman for the National Park Service.

"We're glad that it took place at a time when people were away from the tree and we are saddened that it has happened," he told Washington TV station WRC4.

Line said a new tree would be up in time for next Christmas.

Is it a wonder we can't get a budget together on time? Hell, we can't even put away the Christmas decorations until after Valentine's Day.

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. 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 Dream. The Impossible dream

As part of our on-going "Quest for Excellence/the Unattainable Goal" initiative here at FTI, there is great pressure to succeed on our entire staff. Especially troubling is that a new component has been introduced this year.

Slated for vigorous discussion and debate at this Monday's staff meeting is a conversation over a requirement that all staff members pass a core competency test. The fact that our staff IS our staff would seem to negate this hurdle in the first place, but, our cheap-assed Board of Directors have insisted this be measured at well. I don't understand the nervousness surrounding this event as there seem to be no consequences for failure. After all, what's going to happen? If Gummo, the Balloon Boy's services are no longer needed here, what competitive group will need an individual with actual Balloon experience? Does anyone really think that Slateface's abilities are in demand? And other than being a spokesperson for either the Dollar Store organization or as a posterboy for anyone holding an elder abuse workshop, would Dickie the Peap land somewhere else? I think not.

In th end, I know the outcome: the losers here will remain. It's just our way.

Jukebox: As told to me this week

Anyone have any questions?

I currently am on the road on non-Institute business on behalf of the good folks of Dilbertland. I am scheduled to speak this afternoon to a small audience and am looking forward to it.

Initially invited months ago, I was a bit apprehensive as I thought this might actually be a cover for an intervention session. Further investigation showed,this group is unaware of my shadow duties here at FTI and that this invitation was just a, "no, we want to hear about some of your stuff and have you pay for lunch while we do it", type of gathering. I am completely at ease with this type of meeting as this is exactly the same type of attitude that Dickey the Peap employs whenever he calls a similar meeting: I want to invite you, but you are going to pay. Not only is love the universal language, so is cheap.

Regardless, I expect some follow-up questions afterward and all topics will be open for discussion, save one: Any FTI items. I want to be invited back some time.

If you want the best, you have got to get the best

A big shout out is due the wizards of the newly developed FTI fiduciary underwriting control klatsch-usury panel section. Their dogged determination and perseverance in detailing our financial position over the weekend to the US government has netted the Institute a small 3 figure refund on our 2010 taxes. Needless to say, this is a welcome bit of news in an otherwise dreary economic landscape.

Our team was recently hired as there is a multitude of financial talent in the marketplace presently. Knowing that ours is a destination organization for some of these bright minds, reviewing some of the names of organizations from which our team hailed was a pleasure: Enron, Circuit City, Lehman Brothers, and Jedi Mind. These were huge players in their fields and I feel fortunate to have snagged key employees of each to help prepare our FTI return.

I am confident the return will withstand any type of possible scrutiny given to it by the IRS.

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. 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.

Hardly a historical uprising

Like the recent events in Egypt, I was alerted to some continuing noise and clatter outside the Executive Living Quarters here at FTI yesterday. Sending my staff trustee (and  assistant executive director), Giacommo, out to investigate he found Gummo, the Balloon Boy, Dickey the Peap, the Green Comic, Rat Bastard G, Mr. X (and his toadish tag-along, Friend of Mr.X) milling about the compound square mumbling something about change and threatening to disrupt the calm we enjoy.  In an apparent attempt to conceal their true identities for fear of reprisal, the group of dimwits decided to exchange clothes with one another so as not to be recognized.  So, seeing the Green Comic holding a collection of Balloons, the Rat Bastard holding the Friend of Mr. X's hand, and Dickey the Peap holding on to a nickel (somethings don't ever change), I was hardly unaware of whom was involved in the whole matter.  Fortunately, calmer heads prevailed with Giacomo's negotiated offer of settlement: a bowl of 3 day old popcorn and a mug of Ovaltine for each. 

Give Peace a chance. 

Jukebox: Dedicated to Mr. X

I'm thinking of a number

I thought that the continuing  cockeyed investment saga of Mr. X was over with the recent postings of ineptness.  Instead , the story gets better. 

Mr. X called me yesterday excited about his latest venture.  Having earlier in the week fleeced a senior citizen out of a couple of hundred bucks in exchange for some manual labor around the old geezer's home, X is now setting his sites on cornering the market of ESP by investing in a company known as Jedi Mind (To our 2 faithful readers:  truly,  I can't make this stuff up.)  Once again, extensive analysis, raging greed, and blind unawareness,  has led X to a stock of a company that develops software for thought-controlled technologies, allowing the user to interact with the computer and other machines through the power of the mind.   TRANSLATION:  Give us your money, you will never see it again.  Having now taken a position on  60,000 shares, I mentioned to X that I would think that he would now be a member of the Board of Directors or at least part of the Executive team.  X replied that since share were only worth .01 cents each (that's right, one penny!) his $600  stake probably wasn't going to sway many decisions made by the company. 

Now I, for one, hope that X hits it big with this one.  I don't know, though. Apparently he missed this warning sign.  Regardless, all of this has cemented my choice for tomorrow's Jukebox selection.  I encourage you 2 faithful readers to return tomorrow and realize the connection.   

A not so super Super Bowl

Is it me or were all of the commercials during the Super Bowl yesterday, lame? 

And the movie trailers?  Daniel Craig in Cowboys and Aliens!?

If I didn't know better, I would suspect that a number of these ad agency types were alumni of FTI. Their work certainly resembled it.     

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. 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.

Jukebox: The CRAP vehicle is something like this

Gee. this is roomy

I am off to the car dealership today to deal with a recently discovered problem with our year old FTI Central Research, Analysis, and Policy (CRAP) Vehicle. Routine maintenance performed by an outside competent mechanic discovered a problem that our members of the FTI motor pool team failed to recognize:  a potential failure that could incur the total replacement of the transmission.   This on a vehicle that is just 13 months old!

My problem is not with the vehicle itself, but, rather the dealership's reluctance to accept the vehicle into the shop. Oh, they have no problem doing the work; it is just that they requested I bring it in under cover of total darkness.  Apparently our FTI logo emblazoned on the side was the source of  worry and ridicule by some employees and adjoining businesses.  (Obviously, our work is known region wide.)  Regardless, I have to bring the vehicle in before sunrise in order to get the necessary work done.

For my efforts, however, I did extract one concession from the dealer:  they will give me a loaner vehicle while mine is being repaired.  Apparently it is some type of trade they just took in.  Clean, Well-maintained.  Low miles.  Room for 12.  The prior owner:  Ringling Brothers.

When Mr. X says "buy", be sure you sell

Having thought that we had earlier fully covered the ineptness and foibles of Mr. X's stock picking abilities, I was under the impression that  under no circumstances would it ever become an issue again.   Unbeknownst to me, it turns out that X had solicited the FTI  charitable arm division  in the hopes of guiding the Institutes's portfolio. As our charitable arm division is  a separate division that is unrelated to our work at this site, they were unfamiliar with X and his epic history of failure in regards to picking successful investments.  Case in point:  his latest wealth building choice.

Known for his diligent research, keen insights, and savvy insider abilities, X's latest choice of maddening riches beyond his wildest dreams was a small medical devices firm.   Relying on multiple sources including the firm's own web page, Mr. X ignored statements including the words "troubled firm", "debt-laden", and "highly doubtful this shit can work".  Of course, the statement  in the "Careers with Us" soliciting candidates for a person whose duties included, "turning off the lights after we fold like a cheap suitcase" didn't seem to register as a warning, either.  Regardless, X bought a substantial position in the company early  in the morning only to  discover the firm had filed bankruptcy by noon.  Sorry Charlie.  Ala-hoo-ay-a-zer.     

Fortunately, our charitable arm here at FTI was wise enough to evaluate Mr. X's promises and statements by processing them through the Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe via a reciprocal agreement we have with one another.   Realizing that an alliance with X would not be profitable and also a source of shame and embarrassment, they politely declined his offer.  We wish Mr. X a speedy recovery from the financial shellacking he seems to be suffering lately.

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. 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. 

Offensive? Maybe. Funny? Definitely.

With credit to Marv the Neighbor


A man was sitting on a blanket at the beach. He had no arms and no legs.

Three women, from England , Wales , and Scotland , were walking past and felt sorry for the poor man.

The English woman said "Have you ever had a hug?"
The man said "No," so she gave him a hug and walked on.

The Welsh woman said, "Have you ever had a kiss?"
The man said, "No," so she gave him a kiss and walked on.

The Scottish woman came to him and said, "'ave ya ever been fooked, laddie?"
The man broke into a big smile and said, "No".

She said, "Aye, ya will be when the tide comes in."

Jukebox: And I think I am Falling

Stay with it; You can do it!

A bit of odd recognition surrounds our activities here at FTI and I am torn whether to celebrate or be despondent. 

An unsolicited phone call was received here at FTI by someone purporting to be part of a contest  derived from the "Biggest Loser" TV show.  I thought that my continuing workout sessions on the Christmas Wii present must have drawn some attention to my dedication and steadfastness to drop a few pounds.   Immediately, however, I realized that my 15 lb. weight loss goal, though memorable, is not exceptionally meaningful to the producers of a show that profiles people losing upward of 150 lbs. of weight.  As I asked a few more questions, this individual started to explain that No, they weren't looking to profile people whom had lost weight.  They were looking for Losers.  Actual Losers.    Somehow, they had gotten our number and wanted to profile a couple of our members.

The Rat Bastard G begins filming next week. 

Advice for the Forelorn

  
Much like Dear Abby in the local newspaper, our new "Dear Kfred" initiative here at FTI is increasingly becoming a popular feature of the work we perform here for the community.  Here is an actual letter:

Dear Kfred: 

My husband (I'll call him "El-Cheapo") told me today that he didn't get me anything for my birthday because everything was too expensive.  What should I do?

Signed, Mrs. Peap El-Cheapo

Dear Mrs. El-Cheapo,

It's ironic that you write in as we had a very similar scenario here at FTI.  One of the Misfits relayed a story to me when he told me he had his feelings hurt while considering a gift for his wife's birthday.  Apparently our Misfit  thought it would be nice to buy his wife a little gift for her birthday and went to a department store. "How about some perfume?" he asked the cosmetics clerk. She showed him a $50.00 bottle.


"That's a bit much," he said , so she returned with a smaller bottle for $30.00. "That's still quite a bit," he complained.

Growing annoyed, the clerk brought out a tiny $15.00 bottle. "What I mean," said , "is I'd like to see something really cheap."

The clerk handed him a mirror.


Just be thankful he is cheap and doesn't try to squander your life savings on losing stock tips. 

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. 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. 

Jukebox: How cool is This?

You are eligible for an upgrade

Speaking with  Gummo, the Balloon Boy, yesterday during his daily verbal therapy, we discussed a range of topics:   needless insignificant trivia,  the recent passing of Don Kershner (let's see how many of our 2 faithful readers know that name!), the legalities of driving while talking  on a cell phone, etc.   The cell phone issue  is a hot topic  as the Latex Kid recently got a new smart phone and is utterly baffled by it's operation.  Wishing to revert to the simpler model he had been using so successfully earlier, he has scoured all of the phone stores to locate a model with no luck.  Technology has simply passed the point from which his old one operated.  Yes, I understand the new phones are a bit more complicated.  Yes, I know that they have a shorter battery life, but honestly, walking around with the backpack model that looked like the one used from the radioman of the old 60's Rat Patrol TV series  probably would interfere with most daily activities.     

Never the less, as a service to a friend in need, I am posting a picture of the preferred model of choice.  I urge both of our faithful readers to scour their attics, basements, and dead  grandfathers WWII belongings to see if they  have a comparable model.  If so, please contact us here at FTI for placement to a grateful individual.  It would mean so much.   

The official travel partner of FTI

Already thinking ahead and trying to plan to the best of my abilities, I scored a minor victory yesterday  that makes me a bit happy. 

Kfred Jr. 2 begins his 5 year journey with the US Army as a 2nd lieutenant upon graduation this spring.  Obviously, graduation is a big deal with all of the related events and hoopla.  We've known about the date for around 6 months but I never got around to buying some airline tickets.  2 weeks ago, a window of opportunity opened in which I could buy round trip tickets from the FTI base here on the West Coast direct to Newark nonstop for $279 per person.  That's a bargain!  Unfortunately, the window slammed shut by the time I sauntered up to the electronic ticket window a day later and suddenly prices had leapt to $386 each.  Immediately reverting to the type of behavior I have observed in Dickie the Peap, I started forming a plan to whine, moan, complain, browbeat, and badger to the best of my abilities, anyone on the end of the phone line into giving me the previous price.  Obvious, my skills are not as highly refined as his as I got nowhere fast.  Realizing that competition in the airline industry is cut-throat and ongoing, I figured if I waited  and kept checking the website, I would score a deal.  Yesterday, I check in for my daily ritual, note that the price has dropped $135 per ticket, reserved 2 of them, and walked away with the exact seats I had wished for 2 weeks ago and  an extra 270  bones in my pocket to blow in New York City in the springtime.  Badda-bing, Badda-boom.   

The website I used? Why, it's the one that Dickie frequents whenever he travels: CheapoAir. (this site is so cheap that their website is down as I am writing this post. I sure hope they get me the airline tickets.)

It doesn't take much to help

Because we normally have our hands full here, at FTI we try to stay away from any meaningful social policy that would be of note. NO, we are not trying to be lazy, but again, herding the Misfits on a daily basis is enough. A man has his limits. I did become involved with one organization recently, though, that is kind of fun and different.

Kfred Jr. 2 and his wife, Golidlocks gave me a present for Christmas that I activated yesterday and I am glad they did. I received a donation/giftcard in my name to an organization known as Kiva. Simply, from their own website, Kiva's mission is to connect people, through lending, for the sake of alleviating poverty.   Currently, I am a lending partner to a man in Uganda who is running a small market to sell fruits and vegetables in his village.  His total request was for $900.  16 other lenders read his story and decided to help him in his enterprise and loaned him various amounts totaling the $900 to get him started.  He has approximately 18 months to pay back the loan at which time I can then turn around and loan it to someone else.   The beauty of  the project is that the small donation I make is basically nothing to me, but, is a ransom to someone in a poor country trying to survive.  I feel good about helping someone else while knowing that somewhere on the other side of the world, someone, regardless of race, color, or religion is being assisted to get out of poverty.  I think it's great. 

Now, I have go work on my business plan that I am about to submit to Kiva.   I would think that  the FTI story would generate a ton of donations; if for nothing else, simply out of a sense of pity. 

 

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. 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. 

Jukebox: For MLK. Thanks, G-man.

Say, Is that REAL Bling?

The sharp eyed reader will notice a new feature I have added to our page.

Hearkening back to our post last week of the investing travails of Mr. X,  immediately below the "About Me" section in the column of the right side of this page, I am posting the closing price of the particular investment in question as a demonstration and fun way for our 2 faithful readers to track the utter failure of X as he attempts to rebuild his lost fortune.   X bailed out on Zales to take a small profit to only watch a monster run-up in value yesterday that would have easily netted him a solid 4-digit profit.  Instead, the timid one went weak kneed and missed out on a golden opportunity.

Until our idiot IT department (the most reviled department here at FTI) learns how to track the lost opportunity on a  real time basis and add it to the tally as well, I will continue to track it manually and post it regularly.  In the meantime, just remember that in shopping for jewelry, in Mr. X's case, every kiss does NOT begin with Kaye.      

January 27, 2011 UPDATE:  Having displayed ample evidence of the complete lunacy of this choice, I am suspending the practice of tracking this embarrassment.  Mr. X will have to live with the knowledge that stock picking is not his forte.     

Life imitating Art

I got off of the phone earlier this morning and have discovered a new troubling revelation that defies normalcy.

The Rat Bastard G informed me that immortality is his goal and that he intends to become the ageless wonder  similar to the character in the novel "The Picture of Dorian Gray." The novel tells of a young man named Dorian Gray, the subject of a painting by artist Basil Hallward. Basil is impressed by Dorian's beauty and becomes infatuated with him, believing his beauty is responsible for a new mode in his art. Dorian meets Lord Henry Wotton, a friend of Basil's, and becomes enthralled by Lord Henry's world view. Espousing a new hedonism, Lord Henry suggests the only things worth pursuing in life are beauty and fulfillment of the senses. Realizing that one day his beauty will fade, Dorian (whimsically) expresses a desire to sell his soul to ensure the portrait Basil has painted would age rather than himself. Dorian's wish is fulfilled, plunging him into debauched acts. The portrait serves as a reminder of the effect each act has upon his soul, with each sin displayed as a disfigurement of his form, or through a sign of aging.

Unfortunately,  in the case of the G-man, the aging process is not accelerated with sinful deeds, but rather, through acts of stupidity.   And right now, he looks like this. 

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. 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. 

How many Fingers am I holding up?

An unfortunate incident has required me to invoke emergency powers here at FTI. 

Our Safety Director, Mrs Kfred, suffered an unfortunate fall this morning on her way to the FTI Sanitation Receptacle/Misfit Monument as some unseen ice had formed overnight and she slipped and fell and suffered a bruised back and slight blow to the head.   I happened to hear her gasp and the subsequent fall  and immediately sprung into action to investigate.  Finding her slumped on the ground, I helped her to her feet, and immediately rendered first aid.   Fearing that her analytical abilities may be compromised and testing her mental faculties, I  suspected something may be wrong as she  gave incorrect responses to the first 3 of the 4 baseline questions I had formulated including: 1)  the correct atomic weight of chromium, 2) the value of pi to the 6th decimal point, or 3) if CarrotTop was truly a funny comedian.    Only on the 4th question of who was the biggest well known  skinflint that her mumbled answer of "Dickie the Peap" make me realize there would be no long term permanent damage.  Regardless,  I immediately assumed duties for the time being and  know things will be OK on a long term basis. 

Thank God for some absolutes when conducting these type of tests. 

Jukebox: Some Blue Eyed Soul

Pssst. Hey Buddie. Wanna stock tip?

I received a phone call last night from ...well, let's see, this is kind of delicate.....um, he's a little bashful.......well, lets just say that to protect his identity that he is an individual whom we have discussed

about earlier concerning his involvement with an eerily similar sounding venture to our organization.   Let's  just call him call him, "Mr. X".  

Now "X" is a decent kind of fellow; fairly intelligent, definitely more than a bit quirky, but overall a guy that you can count on for sound advice and information on most topics, except one: Finances, specifically, stock picking.  At that point, "Mr. X" falls off the rail and you might as well invest everything you have regardless of loss, cost, or value in any company that exclusively manufactures VCR's, horsewhips, or wall crank telephones. I can assure you that your financial position in any companies in these types of industries  would return more than what X has done with his analytical picks.

"Mr. X" originally hired a second cousin of one of the Misfits on an interim basis to act as an intern of his organization. The resultant failure of this experience made me realize that though X is still one of my confidants, he certainly will not be my financial adviser. Anyways, X was bemoaning the fact that he had a particular investment that he had been holding for a period of time and decided to take a small profit from it and immediately put an order to his broker to sell it all the next morning. Sure enough, the next morning, the investment opened to the downside, further shrinking Mr. X's profit, but, hey, a profit is a profit. Then just as quickly, it reversed course and went up a full $1.25 a share before settling higher for the entire day. As a result, Mr. X watched $6,000 float by his greedy, grubby, overcharging, whining, little meathooks without snagging any part of it.

I feel sorry for X.  Instead of the Midas touch, he has something else.  I think it resembles the short-armed touch. 

From barbells to dumbells

I have begun to take advantage of a new Christmas gift that showed up here at the Institute during the past holiday season. It is designed to help improve my health, balance, and weight and I am having fun doing it.

Santa brought Mrs.Kfred a Nintendo Wii Fit Board and game for Christmas, and I must say, I am impressed. Having requested one last year, at the time I thought Mrs.Kfred might have had made another an unauthorized entry into the FTI infirmary and gotten into a bit extra of the healing spirits we keep here for medicinal purposes only (and when Marv the Neighbor comes over to socialize).  Instead, the Wii Fit has turned into a fun way to exercise without realizing it.  You are doing physical activity and balance exercises without the boring repetitive counting while burning calories along the way.  Make no mistake, the weight training part is not a game and is no picnic, but, since you choose your own level of difficulty, you can certainly control the level of intensity. 

So impressed with the Wii board, that I sent of an e-mail to Nintendo praising them for their fine work and explaining my duties here at the Institute.  I described our population in great detail and offered to collaborate on a new instrument they may be interested for developing, measuring, and recording the numerical equivalent of  the degree of thought process and intelligence quotient in individuals similar to our population here at FTI.  I was subsequently informed that the thimble has evolved to also serve this purpose. 
   

It's New Year's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's the first Sunday of the year and tough enough to get this group to think during the entire last year let alone start eliciting anything meaningful from them now. 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.