Hey 2012, thanks for dropping by

With 2012 headed out the door, I welcome the impending arrival of 2013. Though 2012 has actually been pretty good, I look forward to a fresh start and new beginnings the new year offers. Before 2012 exits completely, though, I do remember a small list of 2012 posts and memorable thoughts.

Trying to lose weight via the Gummo, the Balloon Boy, method of weight reduction is more harmful than good. No exercise should include a life alert alarm. The pending global warming issue has certainly not been settled in any fashion during the year and this contribution from our FTI scientific division did nothing to help the cause. Never ones to rest on their laurels, the FTI IT department, (the most hated and reviled department here at FTI)did create and implement our ongoing Example of Greed feature on the righthand side bar. It truly does serve as a reminder of what greed can eventually cost you. Lastly, the epic golf struggles of one, D. the Peap, were immortalized by this single event on a nice last summer afternoon. Oh sure, I lost a couple of rounds here and there, but, this is what it is all about. Added to my outing this past Saturday (yes, golf in December)and it's easy to see that the little miser's game is going to appear like he is playing with his hands in his pocket instead of the club when we resume again this springtime. On further analysis, he apparently is so intent on holding on to his wallet, that he does play with his hand in his pockets!

2013, welcome to my world, I can't wait to get going with you.

Merry Christmas

CHRISTMAS

The tradition continues

'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 old tethers 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 have seen them aboard the short bus,
Most readers know they are all mental midgets,
Their collective IQ is but 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)

Jukebox: Well, sure it is

We interrupt this posting

After studying the Mayan calendar, meteorologists here at FTI have issued this urgent updated weather forecast. All readers should take the appropriate measures of preparation.

Why?

I don't feel very much mirth today. The shootings in Connecticut simply do not make any sense. Obviously, mental illness makes no sense and, in my mind, gun control is a waste of time. There does, however, have to be an answer of balance between these two. These incidents simply cannot continue to occur.

COMING MONDAY: A recap of my annual Christmas luncheon with Dickie the Peap.

Jukebox: Christmas getting your boogie on

Times are tough

Credit where credit is due: The Green Comic's alter ego came up with this one. I think it is pretty good.

It's a Costco thing

Just in time for the holidays, I paid a visit to Costco and noted some things that really tend to kind of piss a guy off. I might as well get them off of my chest now before Christmas, so when Santa asks me if I have been a good boy lately, I can certainly honestly answer him affirmatively.

During the holidays, Costco is a very popular spot. I actually hate going to Costco. I don't like fighting the crowds and a lot of times I feel like a salmon swimming up stream, but I digress. First things first. Anyways, I pull in to the parking lot and start scanning the parking aisles close to the door. (Hey, I am no different than anyone else.) I see one aisle with 3 stopped cars. Apparently, someone is waiting for someone else to exit a parking spot. I figure, "ixnay" on that choice and move on. I find a spot 3 aisles over further away meaning a sprint in the pouring rain, but, so what, it goes with the territory? As I am on a low speed shuffle toward the entrance, I see that the offending lane plugging car is just now pulling into the spot and now 5 cars are backed up behind them. Apparently, it's better to wait for that one spot and inconvenience 5 other people, than to pass up a spot, save yourself some extra minutes spent shopping, and get on with the rest of your afternoon. We've all been there and all done it. I don't do that anymore. No parking lot is so big that I can't walk to the door. My time is worth something. Offense #2 sends me into vapor-lock even further: The "If-it's-free-I-am-going-to-have-some-and-I-don't-give a damn-about-you-mentality." Completely abandoning any pretense of political correctness, I say this: It's usually fat people in motorized scooters who are the worst offenders. The demonstration cook at the end of the freezer section has a small toaster oven sampling chicken nuggets. (INSIDER FOOD GUY NOTE: Chicken "Nuggets" are not the same as chicken tenders or chicken breast strips. "Nuggets" are the sausage of the poultry industry. Beaks, feathers, claws, and whatever scrap meat left over from a processed chicken are pressed together, breaded, and then frozen and marketed as a great after school kid snack.) Invariably, some old bastard wearing a baseball cap emblazoned with "Korean War Vet" or a 70+ year old woman with bleached blond hair weighing around 240 lbs will aim their motorized gurney straight to the plate on the table, block the aisle, take 10 minutes discussing how they like these better than the pizza rolls they featured last week, then feign deafness when they are repeatedly being told, "Excuse me, excuse me". My experience is that more often than not, this is just a cue for the offender to grab another free sample and linger. A close second is the shopper who passes by, takes a second look and decides they want some, abandons their cart in the middle of the aisle, and expects everyone else to just navigate around their cart. "The freebies are for the shoppers; I'm a shopper, it looks good, I want some, What's the big deal?" Idiot.

There I feel better. Santa, please do me a favor: If we meet in Costco, please don't waddle over to the free cookie samples, OK? We both know you have no intention of buying them.

Jukebox: Christmas over the Rainbow

Jukebox: Some Christmas Cool

Meanwhile, back on the Legal front........

I got a bit of clarification yesterday from our co-counsel in our FTI Dopes Trial. It really does make one wonder how we function as a society, yet, also reinforces that right trumps might.

I had contacted this new guy for just a bit of "inside baseball"info as to what we could expect moving forward. We won the Superior Court trial, have submitted our brief in response to the idiot developer's weak-ass attempt at appeal, and should be collecting our dough. "Nnnnotttt so fast", says Perry Mason 2. He then lays out the nearly 18 month possible scenario timeline how both the Appeals court, and possibly, Supreme court would operate. "I had a prior client that endured a trial, two court of appeals and one Supreme Court appeal—7 years in all. The good news is they would have settled for just under $1M in the case, and at the end, received $3.2M (with all of the accrued interest and attorneys’ fees)." That's all well and good, but honestly, I don't care. I want this mess to be done and over with now. Doesn't look like that is going to happen. Oh, well.

In the meantime, I guess the Example of Greed meter just keeps spinning upward.

Ain't technology grand?

Recently speaking with Dickie the Peap, it was obvious to me that the short-armed one is all atwitter with his new "smart" telephone. Like Gummo, the Balloon Boy, earlier, he too has ditched his near WWII field model clamshell cell phone he previously had been using for something a bit more updated. The new phone has all of the "apps", and bells and whistles that the little miser finds useful. Especially of intrigue is the "TableBuster" tipping app that automatically calculates the appropriate 7.5% amount of any restaurant bill for ease and convenience, the "wallet excuse" app that generates an easy to repeat excuse of why one can't buy this particular round, and the ever useful "haggling" app that coaches one to grind down any stated price of an item to offer half of the stated amount and then whine, bitch, an moan about the price until the other side simply figures it is better to cave and meet the price than to spend time trying to argue over terms. After all time is money.

Shaking my head in amazement and disbelief, the short armed one did reveal an additional  feature of the phone that, I think, even he didn't realize was so "smart". Apparently, if you speak to the phone and give it a voice command, it will search the web for the appropriate image related to that command and return it on the screen.  It really is kind of neat.  He mentioned that when you call out "Rover", it pictures a dog.  Say "movie snack" and a bowl of popcorn appears.  I suggested he enter his name, "Dickie the Peap".    He excitedly agreed and said, "yeah, do you want to bet it will show a handsome, middle aged man?"  The conversation suddenly went silent and I heard a soft, "oh, that's odd.  Hmm."  I asked "What's the matter?"  Dickie  replied, "well, it doesn't seem to recognize given names and just returns gibberish.  I have put my name in 3 times and it comes back with this same woodworking type of image.  I guess I will have to return this phone to the store".     I said, "Send it to me.  Let me check it out.  Maybe I can save you a trip."

Of course, when receiving the image, I simply nodded my head in amazement and wonder of the ingenuity that man possesses when designing electronics.  They simply think of everything. The image related to the entering of his name is obvious: a Cheap Screw.

Jukebox: What is Thanksgiving without Alice's Restaurant?

Well at least there is room for the turkey carcass now

It currently is 4:50 am.

 I normally do not post at this hour of the morning. Am I posting because today is Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday? No. Is it because I was so excited about the turkey, the bountiful dinner, the football all day, and time spending with relatives and friends in a relaxing atmosphere?  No.  Then what could it possibly be to make one throw off the covers, fly out of bed hobbling across the room to get a pair of shoes, struggle for some pants and a shirt, while ignoring Mrs. Kfred repeated half awake questions of, "What's wrong?  Are you OK?" and fly out the door with the immediacy of running to (from?) a fire?  Why that's simple:  Its the grinding of gears and roaring engine of the passing garbage collection truck as he passes by my house.  Normally, the guy comes around 11 am in the morning, but today, Thanksgiving, I guess he wants to spend some time with his family and enjoy the holiday as well, so, he started early;  before half of the neighborhood even had put their garbage out.   I am certain he will get done early today, if for nothing else, as he only collected half of the cans on the route because THEY WEREN"T PUT OUT!

My solution was to simply put my can on the other side of the street with Marv, the Neighbor's, and then they could pick them both up together on the return pass down the street.  The truck in my neighborhood is automated and only uses a single driver.    I noted through the window that the mechanized arm on the truck made only one dump when it finally arrived across the street.  Marv's gonna be pissed.

Happy Thanksgiving.

This is hardly Shakespeare

Part of the ongoing burden here at FTI is battling the continuing perception that our best and brightest simply are losers with poor personal qualities, odd behaviors, and borderline hygiene habits. People say they are not "good enough". Oh sure, most of time the Mistfit's embarrass themselves and besmirch the brand I have so mightily struggled to build, by their actions, thoughts, and deeds. Yes, Dickie is a lousy golfer and a cheapskate. Certainly, the Rat Bastard G is obnoxious. It goes with the territory.  I get it.  I am normally a strong person. Not much fazes me.  Once in a while, though, just every so often, their pathetic efforts actually bring tears to my eyes as I realize that these morons will never achieve any type of greatness. We simply have been dealt the losers from the bottom of the deck.

 A recent competition from the local literary society inspired me to assign our staff a quick, fun, writing exercise. My hope is that it would provide them an outlet to do something a bit different and still compete with normal people on an anonymous basis. After all, their sheer appearance wouldn't disqualify their efforts or to be immediately be discriminated against as "idiot looking." Anyways, the contest was to write a small poem using the word "Timbuktu". The society offered an example and encouraged writers to create their own. Their example is published here:

Slowly across the desert sand,
Trekked a lonely caravan;
Men on camels two by two,
Destination Timbuktu.

My immediate reaction was of inspiration. To be challenged to combine the skills of written prose, iambic pentameter, and geography in a single exercise would be an accomplishment. Much like playing with a ball after an accident can be a form of physical therapy for a child. my thought was "here is a task that can be fun without realizing it is actually strengthening their brain".  When announcing the task, they immediately groaned and complained that this was too hard and they didn't even know what Timbuktu was.  I told them to do some research and find out of their own and to use their own brain power to do so.   After much discussion, I allowed them to work on this task as a collaborative effort rather than individually as none singly can even determine the correct side of a piece of paper to begin. The result is here:

Me and Tim a huntin' went,
Met three whores in a pop up tent;
They were three, and we were two,
So I bucked one, and Tim buktu.

So much for the creative writing thing.

Pre-Black Friday clearance post thoughts

Getting ready for the upcoming crazy day on Friday, I hope one of our 2 faithful readers can take these thoughts and make some sense of them:

How come "Jail" doesn't have it's own personal Facebook page and map location for people to "share" with their friends?

Has everyone forgotten that the world is supposedly going to end on December 21st of this year according to the ancient Mayan calendars? I haven't hear much about that lately. Personally, I have to believe there is some secret link to the end of time and the demise of the Hostess Twinkie.

Wouldn't it be easier for Best Buy to simply offer a complete in-store turkey dinner along with low priced flat screen TV's? That way you can eat and shop without waiting in line in the cold.

Will the sport of football be eventually banned? The amount of concussions experienced by players is almost epidemic; past players have a class action lawsuit against the NFL because of them, the rules are changing to reduce the chance of them, and yet, the sport continues. Don't get me wrong; I like football. I think though, like putting Christians to the lions, I may very will witness a day when the game is no longer played.

I have a few more that will probably hit the clearance post after the holidays. Go ahead and take those now. And don't forget our low price guarantee: We'll double your wasted time back if you can find these thoughts more succinctly anywhere else.

Jukebox: I swear this was written for me

That sounds right

Have you seen the TV show What Would You Do? It's a program that uses a hidden camera to record ordinary people and their reactions to actors portraying ordinary people doing or saying things that most would object to. These uncomfortable, unethical circumstances are used as a background to observe regular peoples behavior.  Marv, the Neighbor, came across a situation and I share it here:

A  man returns home a day early from a business trip. It's after
midnight.  While en route home, he asks the cabby if he would be a
witness. The  man suspects his wife is having an affair, and he wants
to catch her in  the act. For $100, the cabby agrees.

Quietly arriving home, the  husband and cabby tip-toe into the bedroom.

The husband switches on  the lights, yanks the blanket back, and there
is his wife in bed with  another man!

The husband puts a gun to the naked man's  head.

The wife shouts," Don't do it! I lied when I told you I  inherited money:
HE paid for the Corvette I gave you.
HE paid for  our new cabin cruiser.
HE paid for your season Pittsburgh Steelers  tickets.
HE paid for our house at the lake.
HE paid for our country  club membership, and
HE even pays the monthly  dues!"

Shaking his head from side-to-side, the husband  lowers the gun.

He looks over at the cabby and says "What would you  do?"

The cabby replies, "I'd cover his ass with that blanket before he catches cold."

It's always been important; it just means a little more now

It seems to me that yesterday's America's observance of Veteran's Day amounted to not much more than support by each of the NFL teams saluting our troops and a couple of mattress store event sales. Most of the population doesn't seem to get it.

The act of Veteran's Day commemoration is simple: A celebration to honor America's veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good. Sadly, today and until next November 11, it will be forgotten by most people. And, in the past, I have been guilty of forgetting as well. But no longer. Now, I have skin in the game.

I know various feelings that are broken into categories. On one side are the feelings of worry. Of apprehension. Of fear. I really know them; they are constantly with me. On the other side, though, I do know and have seen the feelings of confidence, preparedness, and sense of right. They aren't always with me. Yet, everytime I summon them, the first set of feelings slink away in cowardice and shame. Oh, they do come back when not challenged, but they are defeated every time. Every time.

Godspeed, my son.