Jukebox: For my Friend, Nancy

Understood in all Languages

The recent effort by the cheap-assed Board of Directors to "raise our level of exposure" here at FTI has taken another twist.  A member of our Board directed the MIS staff (a subsection of the FTI IT Department, the most reviled department here at FTI)  to study and make an analysis of our readership to glean some statistics for further review. 

One trend  found  is our steadily increasing viewing by foreign readers outside of the US, particularly  Southeast Asia.  As evidenced by our Flag Counter feature on the side of this blog, one can easily ascertain the location of viewers.  The Board member inquired into the ease and effort needed to translate our site into the native languages of those readers. 

At the risk of further damaging  the perception of the US and Americans, in particular, I cannot understand the desire to inflict further humiliation on the residents of these areas any further.   These people do not need to get to know about our slack-jawed staff. Why further damage US interests in this part of the world?

I understand that civil punishment in this part of the world is usually of a public nature to discourage others from engaging in the offending behavior.  The offending party is paraded through the street for display to foster shame and embarrassment.  Should this type of  event ever involve our staff,  the results would be counter-productive: the only emotions generated would be sympathy and pity.  The people would know who is suffering daily.   Me.       

You pay extra for THIS??

Our 2 regular  loyal readers are aware that my various duties here at the Institute are far and wide ranging.  Among those responsibilities are my oversight of the  FTI motorpool.  After consultation with our independent mechanic and running various "what-if" scenarios through  the Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe,  I  decided to  replace the FTI CRAP vehicle   and did so this past weekend.    Our needs were very specific:  safety, fuel economy, visibility, and ability to keep the misfits secure when loaning them out as attractions to  various circus sideshows during the summer.

As you may remember, I was  entertaining the idea of a retired police cruiser as this would be a familiar sight to the majority of our staff.  Ultimately, however I decided on a new  SUV manufactured by Ford that is a bit smaller and less of an affront to society than we have previously enjoyed.  It came delivered with a  host of features, many of which I have no idea how to use.  In particular,   the vehicle has a feature that I find a bit troublesome: a bluetooth device that I can synchronize to my personal cell phone.  Working with our IT department, the most reviled department here at FTI, I am now beginning to understand the features of this device and also why computer geeks band together:  they speak in tongues.  Regardless,  the problem is that after pairing the cell phone and this device, I now have the car speaking to me and actually asking me if I want to place a phone call to any one of the misfits.  The fact that I now have to deal with this type of experience in the one place where I can actually find refuge during the day is scary.  It is a bit disconcerting to have an electronic voice robotically announce  "Calling Freako Deako" or "Calling Dickey the Peap;  Work or home?" when I think I am finally done babysitting the Doofus Squad at the end of the day. 

I am planning on taking the vehicle back to the dealer to adjust the various things I find unacceptable after 30 days.   This is definitely one of them.

Do you really think so?

It "might be indicative of a larger issue".  No truer words were spoken by a government official. 

My recent jihad against American Airlines has finally made someone wake up at the FAA.  Though I can't take credit for this latest decision for added oversight, the new scrutiny over landings should extend to other areas of this airline's operations as well.

Do you think I am still a little exercised over this one?

Hangover? No, this is how they always think

Hey c'mon, it's New Years Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week, let alone the fact that I gave them this weekend off.   

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

The misfits are scheduled to be returning this evening to start the brand new year tomorrow.  See you then. 

Day 1, Threat 1

It's barely the New Year and already the lunacy begins.  Yesterday's Jukebox choice symbolized (and I quote, "It's only the Beginning,  it's only just a start) the launch of a beginning, the first step, the commencement of a new chapter here at FTI.   Ominously, an event occurred that is not a positive first one.   Gummo, the Balloon Boy, has threatened the Institute, and me personally, with legal action for invasion of privacy.  I find this threat meaningless, groundless, pointless,  (EDITOR'S NOTE: The author included 5 other words ending in -less that  have been removed due to space considerations)  without any merit, and moreover, the actions of an (EDITOR'S NOTE 2: the term "assclown" is unknown to any of us.   For the sake of further potential legal action, it too, has been omitted). 

The alert reader will refer to our earlier post of 2 days ago of Baby New Year 2010.  I posted a picture of Baby New Year to signify the re-birth, the hope, and the potential of the coming year.  I do admit that the face of baby New Year is that of Gummo in his early years, but, would only be recognizable to the rest of our staff and affiliates.   Certainly, the 2 faithful readers we retain would not recognize this individual today.    Gummo countered, however, that the posting  had caused him embarrassment, shame, and ridicule, and was threatening to pursue damages against us.  The FTI legal team determined  that the standard of judgment is what a "normal" person whom knew  Gummo would ascertain from the image.  I am pleased to announce that those people,  in no uncertain way, would confuse him with potential or hope.  After all,  that is why he is on our staff. 

One day in and this is what I get.  Oh, the joy.   

Jukebox: And the start of a new decade

2009: It can't end quick enough

I think it is safe to say that none of us can get rid of 2009 fast enough. With that being said, thank you for your support, comments, and readership. I appreciate the loyalty of you 2 faithful readers and hope 2010 will bring happiness and prosperity to both of you.

To the band of Weirdos, Whacko's, and Misfits here at FTI, I don't see how the future could be any more dismal than the present you currently endure.  It is my fervent hope the governor grants my plea to have each of you placed at a more secure facility for the good of society.  One can only hope.

Order from the convenience of your own home

The cheap-assed Board of Directors notified me yesterday that they have taken it upon themselves to hire an independent, outside consultant to help them explore different ways to "raise our level of exposure" here at FTI as we move forward into the future. I have always worked under the assumption that we wanted to bring no added attention to ourselves due to the level of idiocy found here, but, apparently not. 

This clown convinced our Board to explore unique avenues that no one else has previously ever explored. One idea was to develop an on-line store of official FTI merchandise. We don't even have an official logo, and yet, we're talking about merchandise emblazoned with our name that someone would have around the house that remind them of us during use. At first glance, one would think "that's not very unique. Everyone has printed stuff. What's so special about that type of concept?" Ah, but the devil lies in the details. We're not talking about T-shirts, key chains, bookmarks, or ball caps. No. We are thinking stuff along the lines of FTI Doggy Pooper-Scoopers, FTI Chair Donuts for people whom suffer from hemorrhoid difficulty, and my favorite: an authentic, official FTI pencil,  actually previously chewed by one of our staff. Now that is a unique thing! Anyway, as any good consultant does before meeting with a new client, he did some advance research and produced a sample item I have displayed above. (I am considering my own legal challenge to this item as the use of this picture in my younger days is actually an invasion of privacy.)

Our reviled  IT Department has been given the task to set up all of the details of how people will order, pay, etc., so I don't expect anything meaningful to happen anytime soon.   If we ever do get up and going however, remember this one wise caveat:  Buyer Beware.

Some end o' the year housecleaning

Well, it's getting down to that time of year again.  Time to get rid of the old and bring in the new.  Time to implement some new policies,  procedures, and methods designed to assure our 2 faithful readers  that, yes indeed,  though this website is indeed a waste of bandwidth over the internet, maybe there's a glimmer of hope that something useful will eventually surface here.   

Like most major news outlets, I thought it would be good form to review some of our highlights (low points?) of the past year.   Though certainly accessible on our weekly Green Sunday random results tool, I draw your attention to these particular posts  for their ability to demonstrate the properties of what occurs here on a daily basis:  planned stupidity.  Hopefully, we can avoid these type of events in the future.  With that in mind, here are  a couple of examples:

* Pete Barbutti is our adopted musical inspiration here at FTI.  After viewing this, you will know why.

* Dicky the Peap is one of our staff members whom was unfortunately born with this affliction. Chalk this one up to simply "Life isn't fair."

* The staff picnic was the summer highlight for our team at FTI.  Gummo, the Balloon Boy, failed to heed the 30 minute swimming rule after eating and as a result ended up with cramps. Gummo, Mom is always right.

* Mrs. Kfred is highly regarded by both the staff and obviously, myself. She's on her own on this one, however.


* And lastly, our hoped for theme song as we move into 2010.

One bit of 2009 sad news that needs to be passed along:  Our local State Attorney General has informed us that we will be required to continue to perform community service for an undetermined amount of time.  The Institute's orignal charter was envisioned to be based  on need on a short-term emergency basis, but,  has now bloated to a cumbersome bureacracy.  Despite my best leadership efforts, the incompetencies continue.  Oh,  the humanity. 

Our After the Holiday Sunday Clearance post

Hey c'mon, it's Clearance Sunday.  We get a day off too, you know. 

 Consider yourself lucky. We have our ENTIRE STOCK (!!) of past thoughts on display for reading.  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. 

It wasn't me

Well, the big day has come and gone.  The weather was perfect,  the gifts were generous, and the prime rib was perfect.  You couldn't have asked for a better day.  While giving the staff  the weekend off to celebrate, the continuing Flatline experiences continue with or without our staff around.  I didn't realize that it would come from within my own immediate family, however.    

Joining Mrs Kfred and myself for the holiday were Kfred Jr. 1 and his fiancé, Goldilocks; Kfred Jr. 2, home from college for the holidays; and Brother Eddie.  Brother Eddie is the member of the family that is in his own world.  A lifelong bachelor, he marches to the beat of a different drummer (one resembling the skills of a beginning player in the 4th grade orchestra).  Regardless, he is family and one of us.  He does, however, possess a certain attitude of superiority that, at times, can be a bit arrogant.  As a result, if I get a chance every so often to bring him down a notch or two, I immediately seize the opportunity. 

After dinner last night, Brother Eddie had been gone for a few minutes.  Shortly thereafter, he comes down the stairs and bellows "Kfred, Kfred".  I answered and asked what he wanted.  He replied, "come here".  In a low, quietly discrete voice, he mentions, "It wasn't me, but, the toilet upstairs needs a plunger".    Now, right away, I recognize the opening I knew that would eventually be forthcoming at some time.  My job was to simply wait for it, tee it up, and swing it over the fences.  Did I?  No, I quietly got the plunger, took care of the task at hand, and considered the incident over. 

He and I both know that I now have my own little comeuppance with him for the  rest of my life.    It's a great spot to be in.  And all for the lack of a high fiber diet. 

Jukebox: Merry Christmas to You from us at FTI

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all ‘round the ‘tute
The dimwits were sleeping, the sight is not cute.
The restraints were hung by the chimney with care,
It’s for their own safety and general welfare;

The misfits were locked in their dormitory with beds,
They’re really no more than slow-thinking pinheads;
And Mrs Kfred in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
He’d be the one to visit our mentally sick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called the dimwits by name;
"Now, Freako! now, Gummo! and Dickie the Peap!
Wake up you slow whacko’s; you need no more sleep!

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
He knew of these idiots I suffer each day,
He couldn’t believe I had chosen to stay.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
Some brand new straightjackets he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Replacing the restraints with an all knowing smirk,
He knew the great burden I constantly bear,
Sometimes I think, I’m in a giant daycare,

"Now Kfred," he boomed, “Don’t Worry, Don’t fuss,
All people know they ride the short bus,
Most readers know they are mental midgets,
Their collective IQ is one single digit”,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“I’m glad I’m not you, none of those idiots seem right!”

(with profuse apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

Oh, the weather outside is frightful

Adhering to the Boy Scout principle to always "Be prepared", I have always strove in both my personal life, and, here at the Institute, to make sure that any unforeseen emergencies will be dealt with appropriately. 

During yesterday's staff meeting, we were talking about winter preparation and the need to have a plan for inclement weather.  True to our ways, I left the meeting with my head shaking and wondering what in God's name was the type of atrocious act I committed in a previous life to be placed with this band of misfits in this life. Previously, Dickie the Peap has spent some time  in the meteorology/weather forecasting field and relayed the incident that led him to being dismissed and placed here with us  at FTI. 


A new Indian chief located nearby where Dickie was located was unsure if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild. Since he was a chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets. When he looked at the sky, he couldn't tell what the winter was going to be like. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members should collect firewood to be prepared.
But, being a practical leader, after several days, he got an idea. He went to the phone booth, called Dickie at the National Weather Service and asked, 'Is the coming winter going to be cold?'
'It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold,' Dickie admitted.
So the chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared.
A week later, he called Dickie again. 'Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter ?'
'Yes,' Dickie again replied, 'it's going to be a very cold winter.'
The chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find.
Two weeks later, the chief called  Dickie again. 'Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?'
'Absolutely,' the Peap replied. 'It's looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters we've ever seen.'
'How can you be so sure?' the chief asked.
Dickie replied, 'The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy.'

Circle takes the square

We received a pre-Christmas gift here at the Institute yesterday that I think is appropriate for our staff. The gift is a board game called "Smart Ass".  Players are asked various questions and, based on your answers,  you progress on a board to the final destination. 

The whole concept reminded me of the old Hollywood Squares TV quiz show.  The set was a  giant tic-tac-toe board where various celebrities were seated and  would be asked random questions.  Two contestants had to alternately determine if the answers were true or false and based on their correct determination, the contestant would win the square.  Some of the greatest one-liner smart ass replies came from this show.

With full credit to the celebrities and writers: 

You're a 71-year old man who has lost interest in sex.  Does your doctor have anything to help you?
Charley Weaver:  No, but his nurse does. 

True or False.  Experts say there are only seven or eight things in the world dumber than the ant.
George Gobel:  Yes, and I think I voted for them. 

In a survey of teenage mothers, most of them said they were listening to this when they got pregnant.  What is it?
Paul Lynde: A pack of lies. 

What are 'Do It,' 'I Can Help,' and 'I Can't Get Enough'?
George Gobel:  I don't know, but it's coming from the next apartment.

Paul, what is a good reason for pounding meat?
Paul Lynde: Loneliness!

I'm sure our group, being as dimwitted as they are, will never match the clever answers listed here. Perhaps though, they will use it as a form of inspiration.

Our green holiday policy

Hey c'mon, it's the final Sunday before Christmas and we've got some shopping to do.  What would you get as a gift for this band of weirdos?

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed an alternative holiday "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.

Yep. We've seen his kind before

This guy is exactly the type of member that our HR department chooses when we have an opening here at FTI.

If anyone knows him, please advise him that though his credentials are impressive,  we currently have no openings that match his skillset. 

Jukebox: Here is what Rat Bastard G listens to

Holiday Greetings

I haven't sent any Christmas cards out this year.  Though they are nice and fun to receive, I believe the whole concept is rapidly becoming unnecessary.  With the advent of cell phones, instant messaging, Facebook, web cams, etc., a person can be on another continent, up in space, or underwater on a submarine and still contact their family and friends to let them know they want to share the Christmas spirit with them instantly.  Christmas was always the time of year of re-contacting long lost acquaintances or distant family members to let them know you were thinking of them.    With these new types of technology, I can forsee the day when actual card exchanging will go away.  You will just exchange electronic greetings, instead. 

I received 2 different Christmas greetings yesterday.   One was sent via the US Postal Service; the other via e-mail.  Both conveyed the message of wishing me and my family  holiday greetings and that the sender was thinking of me.  Let's compare the two greetings I received:  The card via the Post Office was sent by an elderly aunt whom I keep in contact each year at Christmas only.  Here is the message:  "Wishing you a Merry Christmas filled with Cheer, and many warm wishes for the coming year."  Nice, right?  Pleasant, cheerful, well-meaning.  The Christmas greeting I received via e-mail was from American Airlines.  Here's their message:

"Words. They can have a profound impact.
As 2009 comes to an end, we would like to take a moment to share simple words of gratitude with you. Your business is deeply appreciated and gives us more reason to celebrate and look forward to the fresh beginnings of a new year and the promise and potential 2010 may bring.

From all of us at American Airlines, we wish you a very happy holiday season. And most of all, we’d like to share two more words with you.

Tough Luck. "