Jukebox: Raise your hand, brothers and sisters

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Occupy? I thought you said Apple pie

Strolling around the local Occupy Wall Street protest in my vicinity, I was surprised to find Dickey the Peap camping out and protesting with the rest of the unhappy people of the world. Now, I am all for some serious tax reform, closing of loopholes, and a general "reset" of how taxes and financial issues are developed, applied, and spent. I do not, however, think that camping out in a park for weeks on end and developing policy via a unanimous consensus is really very practical. If you want to make some change, take the protest where the policy has been implemented all this time: Congress. Not in the local park. If you want to be part of a campout jamboree, join the Boy Scouts. Otherwise, contact your congressman.

Regardless, upon spying the little miser, I asked him what his beef was. After all, as a card carrying member of the 1% club, I thought he would most definitely feel out of place in the middle of the common folk. Dickey replied that since he could partake in the donated food being served without having to pay for it directly, it was worth his time to be down there.

With this type of logic, I am glad I am part of the 99%. I think.

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know, so,  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".

See you tomorrow.

Jukebox: How could I have missed Jukebox Friday?

You can't escape the long arm of the law

I opened my Yahoo mail acct. yesterday and was surprised to find an email notification from the New York State-Department of Motor Vehicles informing me that I was "IN VIOLATION OF NYS V AND T LAW". I was accused of "speed over 55 zone". Now, I was a bit confused on this whole thing as I had visited New York in May of this year and rented a car while attending Kfred Jr. 2's graduation from West Point, but, I don't remember having any contact with any of New York's finest. I then thought perhaps this was a camera ticket and perhaps they had caught me on film.

Inspecting a bit further, I became a bit more suspicious. The ticket was from "Police Agency, New York State Police". The offense was dated July 2, 2011 at 7:25 in the morning and there was an attached zip file for me to open with all of the rest of the relevant information. I was just about to open said file when I looked again at the return email address and noted this message came from an email address of "infoyanol@nypolce.com". Gosh , that's not real professional. The police department can't even spell Police correctly and instead of a .gov suffix they have a .com suffix. Summoning all of my intuitive skills (and with a strong assist from ASK.com), I realized this is just a scam to get into your email address book once you download the zip file. I summarily moved this to the trash file and forgot about it.

I am not going to let these scammers get off the hook so easy, though. No sir-ree. Because of the severe time crunch I operate under, I plan to text them while driving on my way into Dilbertland. They don't know whom they are messing with.

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know, so,  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".

See you tomorrow.

Jukebox: How can you can Hank?

For Better or worse

To my Loving wife,

Today is our anniversary. 30 Years of being Married. Wow. I can hardly believe I am old enough to be married for 30 years.

As time goes by, a person beings to change; the weight starts to hang around, the skin starts to hang, the reactions begin to slow, and the endurance begins to weaken, among others. Even the memory begins to fade a bit. But, for me, the one thing that hasn't deteriorated is my love for one person. It has gotten stronger. Oh sure, some times I snap at, poke fun a little to far, and sometimes am just "out of line" towards you, my best friend and loving partner. (When I am over the line, I get stopped cold with one question: "Would you treat your friends this way?" Of course, the answer is no.)

When I think of though, who is my biggest supporter, my rock solid foundation, and who is glad to see me every evening when I come home, it's one person: you. Now of course, we have had our differences over the years, the raised voice arguments, the 2 day long quiet phases, etc. And yet, I have never once, ever, been told to sleep on the couch, or been asked to leave. We both know that we have an equal part of responsibility to self and an equal responsibility to each other. When we started out, we realized we had the same type of goals, ambitions, and dreams in life, and that by combining our efforts into one via marriage, we may have a good shot at attaining them. For the most part, I think we did.

So, here's to you, dear. Thank you for being who you are and for all you do. I am quite confident I wouldn't be where I am today without your love and support. I couldn't ask for a better wife (or life).

Love,

Your husband

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know, so,  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".

See you tomorrow.

Jukebox: Don't you think we should?

That's a good number

My faith in the legal system has been restored. Somewhat.

The ongoing FTI Dopes Trial is slowly winding down. At a hearing yesterday, the judge awarded the good guys a base amount of $118,000 plus some other fees to be determined in 2 weeks. The reason for the ambiguity is that our lawyer, Shifty, submitted a bill of over $170,000 which was objected to by the other side. Of course, both sides have to argue back and forth, which does nothing but make the lawyers richer, but, hey, that's the way the game is played. Regardless, it is significantly more than I thought we would ever receive and certainly more than Shifty thought we would get.

It's one thing to be awarded money. It's another thing to collect it. In the end, though, I think we are going to come out of this OK. I may have to wait a bit, but, the judgment does come with a 12% interest charge tacked on it as well.

I've waited 3 years for justice. I think I am beginning to see it rise over the hilltop. It's a good day.

What's going on here?

Gas Prices are down.

Osama bin Laden is Dead.

Women can now vote and run for office in Saudi Arabia.

And I was awarded attorney's fees in the FTI Dopes Trial.

Why don't I feel things are good right now?

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know, so,  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".

See you tomorrow.

Jukebox: One way to Live

My Wall Street experience

Among the myriad of pieces of mail received here at the FTI compound are the usual anonymous hate letters, mistaken notices of pending eviction, solicitations/testimonials for curing male pattern baldness, and the like. One interesting piece did come through yesterday that is an actual godsend.

Nearly 10 years ago, I took a small position in  some Washington Mutual stock and sold it a couple of years later resulting in a small profit.  Thinking that my stock picking prowess was better than most, I decided a bit later to get back in and bought 200 shares to make some more money off of this "winner".   Previously priced in the high $40 range, I got in at a mere $2 a share, this thing is going to go up!   Of course, this decision was made in September of 2008, a mere month before the total collapse and forced insolvency of Washington Mutual.   It was highly speculative and I knew it.  I got greedy and gambled and lost.  Game over.

Now, yesterday, I receive 30 pages of small print explanation explaining that I am eligible for some compensation due to a class action lawsuit that was filed alleging fraud and mismanagement.  Thinking that, by golly, I might recover some of my lost  $800+  investment, I started to wade through all of the gibberish.  Buried deep in the middle of the brochure was the statement that at this time no one knows what the participation rate of past losers investors will be, but, I could probably expect to recover $ .07 a share. $ .07 measly cents!  Immediately springing into action based on my longtime observation of our resident stock picker and investment guru, Dickey the Peap, I  realized that this $14 windfall was simply free money waiting to be claimed and I would be foolish to simply ignore this opportunity to cash in.  I have dutifully filled out all of the necessary paperwork and am scheduled to mail it this morning.

My confusion over this incident stems from the fact that we here at FTI had, in fact, been discussing issuing our own IPO to raise additional capital.  With our pending $14 cash infusion slated to arrive anywhere within the next 12-14 months, I have developed a budget that should negate our need to go  public.    No public oversight, no unnecessary SEC regulations, no mad shareholders.  Just the same bunch of idiots.

The liquidation sale beings next Tuesday.

It's Sunday Brunch

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know, so,  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".

See you tomorrow.

JUKEBOX: The mantra for many

"Laaaaadies and Gentlemen, It's time for our Main Event!"

Last night, I watched a 2 hour documentary tracing the history of Wrestling from the late 1800's to it's present form.  Starting out once as an exhibition of strength, balance, and athleticism, wrestling has involved into a form of entertainment for it's customers.  The actual activity has moved from one of an athletic event to a type of soap opera with a complete cast of characters including good, evil, pretty boys, and the like.    As spoken by one of the players, "If you don't believe it, there is no explanation possible.  If you do believe it, no explanation is needed."

I can relate to this whole situation as we here at FTI have the same type of scenario occurring.  My role is like that of a promoter: hyping, exhorting,  and trying to keep some sort  of semblance of order on the whole circus while acting as if everything is normal around me.  The illusion of chaos is simply your mind playing tricks on you.

My problem, however, is that we are missing any of the good guys.  Oh sure, we've got plenty of "heels" (wrestling slang for the bad characters):  Gummo, the Balloon Boy;  Rat Bastard G, the Green Comic, Slateface, etc.  Dickey the Peap might come closest to personifying good, but  I think he is re-inventing himself into the alter ego of Cheapo, the Magnificent.

I think I will just make sure that I replace the metal folding chairs with soft pillows at our FTI conference table.  It would seem to be a bit safer.  

Let's get the man on the Street's perspective

A couple of weekend observations:

• I don't think the  FTI Dopes Trial will ever end.  This past Thursday the judge postponed, again, for 2 weeks, a hearing to determine costs due to me and my fellow plaintiffs.  Though disappointed, I am not surprised.  The efficiency of the court system in our country today is very poor.  Never, ever, ever get involved with the court system if you can avoid it.  It is expensive, time consuming, and ultimately, wasteful.      

• Be careful when bidding any outside craftsman work on your behalf by outside tradespeople.  I had the chance to observe an exclusive behind-the-scenes look into the sordid, tawdry, world of bidding practices as described by our own Dickey the Peap over the weekend.  I am finalizing the editing and compilation of hidden camera recordings detailing in his own words the gouging, manipulation, and outright shyster-like tactics employed by the little miser foisted upon unsuspecting senior citizens, neighbors, and inexperienced homeowners when   offering to do work on their behalf.  The details will be explosive, the fees outrageous.  One viewing of this video will convince most people that the Saturday Do It Yourself clinic at the Home Depot is time well spent.  
• I know better, but, I don't want to believe it:  Fall is on it's way.  Both weekend days were mid-90 degree days, but, by 8:15 pm, it is pitch black out and the nights are cooling substantially.  I like the change of seasons.  I just got cheated out of summer and now it is already leaving.  That kind of sucks.    

I call 'em as I see 'em.

It's post Dickey the Peap Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's "post Dickey the Peap" Sunday and I am tired.   We get a day off too, you know.  I had to argue, wheedle, plead, and beg the little miser to pony up a couple of dollars while visiting yesterday to pay for Sunday brunch once in a while.    All to no avail.

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".

See you tomorrow.