It's now starting to go full circle

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

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

Jukebox: What are we waiting for?

Should I stay or should I go?

A non-FTI affiliated observation for today:

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

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

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

Lesson Over.  We accept Visa and Mastercard.           

Yeah. I will take a combo.

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

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

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

The Queen is not amused

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

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

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

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

It's all about self-awareness

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

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

Jukebox: The stories are in my head

A case of mistaken identity

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

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

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

Oh well, there's always next year

Trick-or-Treaters   8
Misfits                        0  (F)



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

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

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

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch. Every time one of the Misfits say, do, or think something stupid, they have to put a dollar in the jar. We call it our Brunch fund. And as far as I can forecast, there's going to be a lot of Sunday meals.

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

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

I know there's a hydrant around here somewhere

Probably the fault of the new guy.   

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

Jukebox: You have a choice this coming Tuesday

I'm Kfred and I approved this message

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

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

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

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

OK. Now put that thing away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomorrow:  My Halloween costume

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know. I'm taking the staff out to Brunch. Every time one of the Misfits say, do, or think something stupid, they have to put a dollar in the jar. We call it our Brunch fund. And as far as I can forecast, there's going to be a lot of Sunday meals.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow.  See you then.

The Delights of Autumn

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

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

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

Jukebox: Why Wait Until Then?

We'll see you in 6 months

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

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

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

 

.   

Wait till we start tree trimming



Unidentified FTI staff member "riding the wave"



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

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

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