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Tuesday, August 5, 2014

We'll give you whatever you want; Just don't harm the dog!

Recognizing the power of numbers, the militancy of our 2 , no, 3 faithful readers (murmurs abound that there may now be 3; we'll go with it), and the sheer weight of influence this  occasional struggle commands,  I have blatantly ripped off an old National Lampoon gag from the 70's for todays posting to exhort you to action.  As the picture notes, effort on your part will  result in a joyous result for this dog.  If not, I'm not sure of the outcome.

I received a message last night from a friend that his dog, Fiona, is entered in a national online photo contest promoted by Garden and Gun magazine entitled 2014 Good Dog.  I don't know the judging criteria, I don't know the prize, and I don't know what is in it for the owner.  (EDITOR"S NOTE:  Demographic studies of our readership indicate that  publications with names like Garden and Gun, Feet Monthly, and Spank It, rated the highest and were classified as "very willing to subscribe to" based on title interest.  That's unfortunate.)  Regardless I know the mobilization of our 2 3 loyal readers can make a difference and move the needle.

At the current time of publication, Fiona has over 100 votes; the leader has a couple of thousand.  You can only vote once per day from the same device.  I exhort the 3 of you to vote from your computer, tablet, and phones daily for the next week to create a tidal wave of interest to propel this dog to the top of the standings in the contest.  Rudimentary math indicates that 7 days of voting x 3 voting devices x 3 rabid voters should have this dog in the mid-hundreds vote count by the end of the contest.  This is probably not going to be enough to win,  but,  you can sleep soundly know you have done something useful today.  For the majority of our readership, that will probably be a days worth of work.

Vote here.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

I guess this means no pocket watch, huh?

Scrambling to the top of the FTI compound yesterday, dodging the nesting flying-ratlike Western Starling population  while still maintaining some type of footing on an approximate 45 degree slope, I was able to adjust the hand-crank driven communication satellite receiver to an approximate 53 degree azimuth in relation to the horizon to provide a communication linkup with Giacommo, my  able-bodied assistant from the past,  located across the continent.  Normally, this type of task is relegated to our FTI IT team (the most hated and reviled group here at FTI), however, since they were once again deeply absorbed in a continuing virtual firefight with some wizard priest sloth-monkeys from Zoltar 7 via their gaming consoles, they couldn't be torn away from their screens to help.  I figured I will just go make the adjustment myself.

My pride and proud association with Giacommo knows no depths.  He has surpassed me in leadership and advancement opportunities and appears to be genuinely satisfied with his current position at an alternative organization.  Our conversation was borne from my early post this week about CrazY and our shared amazement and wonder of how such people can remain viably employed when only caring about themselves with no regard for others.    During our conversation,  should CrazY ever be relieved of command from Dilbertland, Giacommo stated he would personally deposit something on his lawn similar to what a bear leaves in the woods in appreciation for all of the support he afforded both of us during our tenure.

I like to think of this as the green alternative to traditional retirement gifts.      

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

You know it's true: Sometimes the truth hurts

I had a talk with an insider from Dilbertland yesterday that confirmed my decision to leave was the right one. I never had any doubt, but this just seemed to reinforce it.

For the past 4 years or so, this effort has meant to be pointed, edgy, and yes, mean-spirited in order to showcase things  I think are wrong.   That's the beauty of this whole exercise.  If you don't like the content, quit reading.  Don't like my angle of thought?  Go align yourself with other minded people.  I don't care. I have, however, never  used actual names of people I am talking about.  Sure, our 2 faithful readers know the subjects I am describing.  Dicky the Peap gets roasted on an almost daily basis and yet he knows, HE KNOWS, I have never revealed his legal name. Which brings me to my topic of today:  apparently I hit a tender (very tender) chord when introducing CrazY to this forum.  While still affiliated with us, my able bodied assistant Giacommo noted the similarities between our organization's staff and CrazY's personality.  I wrote about it and politely declined to include him as I thought I had my hands full with the idiots I am surrounded by in the first place.  I needed no more.  CrazY reportedly recognized himself and my slide to banish-land started.

Looking back, I wouldn't have changed a thing.  Some people are simply not going to change. It's not my job to change them.  It's not my job to report them.  My job (which I have chosen) is to simply write about, describe, and mock them in an anonymous fashion while at the same time driving home my point.  I do it anonymously not because I am afraid to confront them; rather, to protect their honor.  After all, how would you like to be described as CrazY?      

Monday, April 14, 2014

Springtime: A period of renewal

Springtime brings a period of transition.    A time to awaken.  A time to refresh  A time to start anew.   I'm there.  And the world really looks much different.  

I just returned from a weeks worth of training and new orientation at a position with my new company.   I will not disrespect them to refer to them as Dilbertland v.2 as I would have if they compared previously to Dilbertland.  I have been treated completely different.  I am viewed as a valued member of their team.  They want and will help me to achieve success for my self and them.  They recognize that if I am happy, they are going to be very happy with the results I produce which make them more money. Every company has their core values, but too often they are only trotted out once a year, reviewed, and then put back in the drawer, within the bowels of the HR system.  This company, though, is different. You feel it.  When they talk about partnership, commitment, and entrepreneurship (entrepreneurship!  what company encourages employees to be  entrepreneur's with in their own organization?), it's not random words.  Dilbertland actually gave me a wallet sized Vision card that stated (and I am not making this up) that it's purpose was to "Create a proper return for our shareholders by increasing profits..."    Gosh, I really want to bust my ass for those folks.

It doesn't matter; the past is the past.  They went their way, I went mine.  It's a new season, a time to grow and bloom.  I know I will.  The soil is right, the sunlight ample, and the plant food plentiful.  Stand back and watch the spectacular flower.       

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Time to take flight



I gave my 2 week notice at Dilbertland the other day and it is liberating.

After 12+ years, I decided it is time to move on.  I'm not bitter, angry, or apathetic.  I'm just tired; really tired.    Tired of the complacency, the games, but, really tired of weak management.  Now those reasons might sound like complaints coming from someone with an axe to grind,  But, they are not.  Let me explain.      

When I entered Dilbertland over 12 years ago, I had no practical experience in the industry.  I was embraced,  however, for my enthusiasm and was actually valued because of my lack of experience would afford me to be trained in the mold of what Dilbert wanted.  To me, it was fun.  I like to learn and I like to change things up.  I wasn't intimidated at all.    And, along the way, I learned and actually got to be fairly proficient at it.  I still don't have all of the answers, but am not afraid to admit so, and when I do get posed a question I don't know, I research, find the proper answer and relay it cheerfully in the interests of the customer.    Anyways, I did observe some things gradually  that I did think as a bit odd.  There became an evident message of "Do as I say, not as I do", type of mindset: "You know boys, the budgets are very tight right now and we can't afford any more resources. What's that, honey?  Oh sure, bring another bottle of both white and red  for the table and roll out the dessert tray, but, keep it light.  I can't spend more than $800 for this dinner".   OK, I get it:  let's eat well tonight because the sample budget is going to be lean for a while.  Sounds kind of like a funny way to run a company.  Or, "We recently enjoyed our best quarter ever with an increase in both top and bottom line results.  We anticipate a successful quarter ahead and forecast even greater numbers in line with industry expectations."  During the annual spring evaluation and review season, however, the message is that "the current tough economic climate, though improving, limit us to offer a modest 2% cost of living wage adjustment."  I think the light finally went off when I got the missive from corporate, though, when discovering that the guiding principle is to "return a fair value to the shareholder". The shareholder?  What about the customer? The employee?  Or maybe the product?   I'm a shareholder through the retirement plan and I sure as hell know my return on investment would be substantially higher if they focused on the customer instead of focusing on me.  I'm not buying anything.  I'm collecting.  And I would collect a whole lot more if people bought a whole lot more.  I am not idealistic to think that no company has warts.  I'm sure my new employer has some things I find a bit odd.  I know how they have treated me so far and I am not even on the payroll yet.  After accepting their offer, I received 3 phone calls in 4 days asking,  "how are you doing, how was your announced resignation received, do you need anything?  We are super excited to have you join our team."  Thank you very much. I've seen enough.

Wikipedia defines Stockholm Syndrome as  a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with them.  I was not a hostage, Dilbertland was very good to me, and I am grateful to them for the past 12 years.  I do know of people who are experiencing the Syndrome, however.  I didn't want to become one of them.  Fortunately, I caught a rising updraft. And I am going to soar.  

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

That's a lot of Green; and we're not talking about beer


The incident reports are not totally finalized and a few are missing, but a clearer picture of the events this past weekend indicate that the Dickey the Peap/St. Pattys Day Blowout  resulted in a huge financial gain for the short armed one; and only we have photographic proof of it all! 


Initially called to the location over neighbors complaints of loud, raucous noise, police and elderly advocates were surprised to find a disturbing sight of overturned wheelchairs, a pair of women's Depends hanging in a tree branch, and most curiously, a single set of false teeth on the front porch of the residence where the blowout was being held.  Upon entering the party, authorities observed most party-goers in a state of complete and total sobriety in direct contrast to their expectation due to the noise involved.  Immediately, authorities suspected a bunco party that had gotten out of hand, but, then began to notice that all of the party goers had Irish coffee mugs in their hands with varying degree of drinks in them, and yet, all revelers were cold stone sober. Suspecting some type of chicanery, officials from the State Department of Weights and Measurements were immediately summoned and determined that the short-armed one, acting as the party host, had completely and constantly been short pouring Irish coffee drinks all night long in an attempt to widen the profit margins he would enjoy between the costs of conducting the party and the revenue he was generating from it. Apparently, the noise stemmed from the vocal protest from partygoers after realizing they were part of a complex swindle.  

As displayed here, an alert peace officer was able to photographically document the actions of the short one counting his money upon their raid. Due to the limitations in technology, the observant reader will notice that the hand actions of the short-armed one are so quick that the image is not "clean" and actually a bit hazy. Like trying to photograph a hummingbird in flight, capturing that type of incident requires specialized equipment that most people don't have without a specific purpose.  The party was shut down, the place cleared, and the short-armed one was advised that, though not illegal, it really isn't a good idea to be a lousy host with your friends during a celebratory type of occasion.  The short armed-one replied, "you've got nothin' on me coppers.  Now get the hell out of here!"

Elderly advocates did collect the set of false teeth and will return them to their rightful owner upon identification.    

Monday, March 17, 2014

Cue the Fat Lady

Well, finally.  It's just about over; not totally closed and I have been down this road many times before, but, this time though, the fat lady is in the wings warming up.  And she is loud, proud, and and going to be heard. And I can't be happier.

I got a message from Shifty, my lawyer, last week.  After all of the delays, lies, twists, and turns, Shifty reported that a check in the amount of nearly $192K has arrived to the Clerk of the Superior Court to apparently end our little saga. Now, Shifty hasn't yet got the money in his grubby little hands and I don't either, but, it has been pried away from Dipshit and his mother. Specifically, Mom had to refinance her house in order to access these funds. It's a real shame that she hasn't made Jr. responsible for this fiasco, but that seems to be the M.O. with these folks. Jr. should of had his little ass whipped a few more times 40 years ago to teach him he doesn't get his way all of the time. I guess that opportunity has long since passed. At this point, it's not my problem.  Some people will plain never learn. And these are two of them.  Nearly $300k has been squandered by these two idiots all over a simple Homeowners association dispute that could have easily been peacefully resolved nearly 7 years ago.  Sadly, it took nearly $225K in legal fees and costs to adjudicate this issue  in the court system.  There is something wrong (as I have pointed out many times previously) with our justice system.   That can be a topic for another day's rant.  Today, it's about listening to the opening notes.  It is a bit screechy and a bit overbearing.  But, it truly is, music to my ears.    

COMING UP:  A post-mortem from the 2014 Dicky the Peap St Patty's Day Blow out.  Police, Elderly advocate, and most importantly, State Weight and Measurements reports are still being compiled.  We'll have the full run-down here.  

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

I think this is a good way to return

In reply to the single reader who  obviously has way too much time on his hands, I return with the first post of the new year with even better news.First, however, a bit of related housekeeping:  The lone returning reader will note a new feature on our right column: this is again the ill-fated attempt to track the monies owed me by the aforementioned idiot developer.  I have been disappointed so many times in the past.
This time, though, I think I have finally got it right.

Earlier this year, the State Court of Appeals not only affirmed the Superior court decision we won nearly 2 years prior, but they didn't even bother to publish their opinion of the case.  In the legal world, that means the case was so routine and non-descript, it would not be used as a reference for any future cases..  This was a simple case of contract Law 101 that was bungled from the beginning, we caught it, protested it, sued over it, and won. At some point, we all recognize that you don't win every time and I think Dipshit finally got the message.   If the Boy wonder doesn't come up with the near 200 large by March 21st, Mom's house is going to be auctioned off on the courthouse steps.  And THAT is not going to be a pretty site.  Even in Dickey the Peap parlance, that is a lot of dough.   In direct conflict with everything else that has gone on with this case,  this time, my lawyer Shifty filed a writ of execution with  the court and they jumped on it.  Immediately.  And to top it off, the Sheriff executed it and served on our boy likety-split. No turning back the clock now.

Of course, the monies owed indicated on the side is to be shared among myself and my fellow plaintiffs. This in no way makes up for the sleepless nights, the tension, uncertainty, and ill ease which we have all suffered through for nearly 7 years.  On the other hand, I know of 3 sets of neighbors that I can count on  in any type of situation and have developed a point of trust with them that there is no misreading of their value.  It is immeasurable.  My trust is implicit.  And that, has been worth every penny in developing.  There are good people in the world as well.  I have always known this was going to turn out OK.  I just didn't know that I would ever see my money again.  I don't have it ,yet, and by no means have spent it yet, but, don't see many ways to stop the train now.  I sure hope it isn't derailed once again.  

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

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)

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

"And with no time left on the clock, our final score will be: Good Guys 1, Idiot Developer 0"


Oh, it's done alright.  Finished.  Finito.  Game Over. You lose.  What a great Christmas present.

I and my  fellow plaintiffs received word yesterday that the State Court of Appeals had released their decision:  The decision of judgment in our favor in Superior Court against the idiot developer of the ongoing lawsuit has been affirmed!  We win!  After a small victory earlier, I had developed an attitude that, though I was always confident we would prevail, the justice system is certainly slow in how it goes about affirming so.  

Now, Mr. Bright Guy has always told anyone that would listen to him that he was right and that he would prevail on all counts.  The COA obviously didn't agree and ripped apart his case by including a description of his arguments as "nonsensical" and referring to the CCR's as "certainly... not a model of clarity".  I guess this would best be described as "overplaying one's hand".  

Now, I and my fellow plaintiffs are revved up.  The bastard still owes us over $75K.  And, of course, it will be a fight to get it which will only benefit Shifty, our lawyer.  At this point, however, I don't really care.  The money has been long gone and forgotten.  I am still surviving and I know I won't get all of our money back, but, we certainly are going to get some of it.  And it feels good. Really good.  

   

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Have you ever felt like you have been somewhere before?

Interestingly, my previous post detailing the wayward travels of the little miser in search of cheap liquor drew nary a protest or whimper. Technology has indicated  that due to the viewing/stalking habits of Whisky Magellan, he has not visited here, yet.  As a result, I make this one prediction with 100% certainty: he will protest, vehemently, my description of his route and purpose and, of course, attempt to cast me in some type of unfavorable light. The guarantee can be assured by the time/date stamp attached to his comment.  Wait for it, it's coming.  That, our dear 2 loyal readers, can be taken  to the bank.

Yesterday, I worked with my supervisor in Dilbertland and had a great day. My direct supervisor is not only my boss, he is my friend, mentor, pal, and all-around-good guy. It's rare to work for a boss that you really like as a person. Oh sure, we have all had bosses that we "get along" with, but, this guy is different. He is supportive, helpful, and yet, no pushover. When I screw-up, he points out my error, suggests how I can do something differently, and makes it a teachable moment. When I want to bitch and whine, he listens, consoles, give me the company line first, then usually agrees with me that, "yeah, I don't agree with it either, but, this is how you can do it and still make everyone happy". I like that. No job is perfect, but you have got to like what you do; I like what I do. And it is a lot easier when you work for someone with whom you implicitly trust.  He did commit one act yesterday that I found a bit odd, however.  We took a client to lunch and had a great meeting.  Business is good, the client is happy, the possibility for more business is wide open, and the future is very bright.  All good things.  At the end of lunch, the bill was set on the table by the waitress and she breezed off.  Normal company policy is that the "senior" level person buys lunch, but the conversation continued and he wasn't reaching for the tab. Realizing that we had to leave for our next afternoon appointment, I pulled out my card, had it processed by the waitress, bid the client to have a Happy Holiday, and were out of there. As we got in the car, he said, "Did you notice how I had a case of short- arms there?   My expenses are over this month and I still have 2 weeks to finish".  I told him that was fine, I understood and had no qualms about paying as he approves my expenses anyway, plus, I get airline miles along the way.   "Hey, before we make the next stop", he asks, "is there a state liquor store around here?  I like this particular tequila and I can save .90  a bottle here versus the state I live in.  I have checked all of the states I have visited this month and, so far, it's cheapest here. "

I already have an order in for an updated satellite image.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

You have got to give me Something

Through the marvels of technology, my recent hiatus from the nonsense, stupidity, and outright lunacy mentioned and displayed here on a semi-regular basis was exposed yesterday, when I received a text (YES, TEXT!) message from Giacommo, my former assistant and Trustee here at FTI exhorting me to at least contribute something/anything as he was losing his bearings in life and needed some guidance.  Yes, it is a heavy burden I shoulder, but I am wiling to do so in order to further the young lad's career.  Due to time constraints today, I am only able to share a limited sampling:


  • The accompanying photo is an actual satellite image  of the path of one, D. the Peap, as he continues his quest in order to find the cheapest liquor in the Western United States.  Irish Whiskey for $42 a bottle in Minnesota?  I'll take 2.  Hold it, what?  I can get the same thing for $39.99 in Nevada.  How many hours does it take to get there?  A demo special in North Dakota?  Mrs. P, saddle up.  We're headed for Fargo.  
    path of attempted and complete liquor purchases by D., the Peap
    EDITOR"S NOTE:  in the interests of complete disclosure, I did request the short-armed one to pick me up a bottle of Gran Marnier should he find one at a competitive price, but alas, I know I am going to pay through the ass for it once he arrives back home.  

I will have an updated subject list in the coming days, but there it is.  Even when the chronicling is missing, the result is the same.    

Thursday, October 10, 2013

You are here. And here. And over here, too.


I was able to squeeze in another grudge match golf game with the little miser yesterday.  We haven't played much this summer due to our conflicting schedules, but, we both committed to the date, the weather cooperated, and we had a great time.  We are approaching probably the last of our scheduled matches as the weather is beginning to turn, and we won't have many more opportunities.    For the record, I beat the short-armed one by 2 strokes and, of course, regained the ceremonial quarter in the exact same condition I had given it up 6 weeks earlier when he beat me by 9 (yes, NINE) strokes. You see,  I had secretly marked the quarter with the term "CHEAPSKATE" etched around the outside edge before handing it over previously as I long suspected that the Frugal One would never part with any quarter, regardless of the circumstances under which it was attained.    Sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed.  The "cheapskate" quarter is back in my possession.       

As compensation for his poor performance on the golf course, however, it was the decision of Dickie Skiltskin to instead focus on my failure to properly read the map of the golf course.  I misdirected our play to  the wrong hole at one point and we ended up getting "lost" on the course.  Finally figuring out where we went wrong, we had to walk an extra 400 yards to the proper point to regain the proper progression of play.  Lost in all of the whining and complaining  was the fact that, at this point, our boy was down 7 strokes to me and fading fast.  I actually offered him that I would penalize myself 5 strokes for the screw-up for compensation and as an incentive to cheer him up for being so far behind.  Hard-headed and vigorously denying that he needed no charity, the little Arnold wannabe played on.  It was the last hole where my wheels fell off (water hazard, lost ball, etc.) and I  lost the hole by 5 strokes.  Had Mr. Golf taken me up on my generous offer, he actually would have won the match by 3 strokes.  But nooooooo, he soldiered on, won the hole, lost the match, and then has the audacity to say, "Well, I know you won, but it wasn't very pretty".  Really!?  Who has the quarter?

Enjoying the 19th hole where we both scored some well deserved beer, we were able to recap our game and the events of the afternoon.     Feeling the effects of the beer, our boy asked me "which way to the restroom?"    Coming back a bit later, I note his frustrated face.  "You dumb shit! That was the ladies room!  The men's is over on the other side",  he said.

I guess I should have studied the layout  of the clubhouse in the first place.  Had I done so, I would have purposely sent him to the clubhouse showroom.   Perhaps he could have found a set of clubs that would help lower his score.   

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

A guy's resource to meet his future wife





Certainly not afraid to swing at both sides of  an issue or to worry about someone's "self-esteem" (remember when that was such a buzz-word in the 80's?),  I do find this little story at the expense of the Catholics a bit humorous.   Next up:  a swipe at the idiot politicians for putting us in this current mess.


'Bless me Father, for I have sinned.
I have been with a loose girl'.

The priest asks, 'Is that you, little Joey Pagano ?'

'Yes, Father, it is.'

'And who was the girl you were with?'

'I can't tell you, Father. I don't want to ruin her reputation'.

"Well, Joey, I'm sure to find out her name sooner or later
so you may as well tell me now. Was it Tina Minetti?'

'I cannot say.'

'Was it Teresa Mazzarelli?'

'I'll never tell.'

'Was it Nina Capelli?'

'I'm sorry, but I cannot name her.'

'Was it Cathy Piriano?'

'My lips are sealed.'

'Was it Rosa DiAngelo, then?'

'Please, Father, I cannot tell you.'

The priest sighs in frustration.
'You're very tight lipped, and I admire that.
But you've sinned and have to atone.
You cannot be an altar boy now for 4 months.
Now you go and behave yourself.'

Joey walks back to his pew,
and his friend Franco slides over and whispers,
'What'd you get?'


'Four months vacation and five good leads."


Monday, September 23, 2013

Trust Me. I am a Medical professional.

Having been recently diagnosed to be fully recovered and ready to go  by medical professionals, I am now in the position to resume my semi-frequently activities here at the Institute.  I have been assured that resumption of my duties here will not affect my over all health and I should be no worse for the wear.    I did find the parting conversation with the medical professional a bit odd in the sense that it flew in the face of conventional medical wisdom that I have read before and provide a written transcript of the conversation  here for our 2 faithful readers evaluation.

For the record, the doctor is an older, experienced medical professional whom arrived in this country over 45 years ago from China.  Though being here for so long, his English speaking skills are a bit weaker than most and during our conversation, I now know why.  Anyway, I was fortunate to have recorded it and relay it here, word for word.

Q: Doctor, I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Heart only good for so many beats, and that it... Don't waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually.
Speeding up heart not make you live longer; it like saying you extend life of car by driving faster. Want to live longer? Take nap.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: Oh no. Wine made from fruit. Brandy distilled wine, that mean they take water out of fruity bit so you get even more of goodness that way. Beer also made of grain. Bottom up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have body and you have fat, your ratio one to one. If you have two body, your ratio two to one.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can't think of single one, sorry. My philosophy: No pain...good!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU NOT LISTENING! Food fried in vegetable oil. How getting more vegetable be bad?

Q
: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Oh no! When you exercise muscle, it get bigger. You should only be doing sit-up if you want bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: You crazy?!? HEL-LO-O!! Cocoa bean! Another vegetable! It best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming good for figure, explain whale to me.

Q: Is getting in shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' is shape!

There it is.  I can't explain it.  I have read and re-read it and it all seems to make sense.  I can only surmise that speaking English is what apparently kills you.   

Thursday, September 5, 2013

.......And forgive those whom Trespass against us

Slowly easing back into my duties and responsibilities here at the Institute, I offer this contribution from Marv, the Neighbor, as an example of some of the heavy reading which I have undertaken this summer during hiatus:


Toward the end of the Sunday service, the Minister asked, "How many of you have forgiven your enemies?" 80% held up their hands. The Minister then repeated his question. All responded this time, except one man, Walter Barnes, who attended church only when the weather was bad.  "Mr. Barnes, it's obviously not a good morning for golf. It's good to see you here today. Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?"
"I don't have any," he replied gruffly.  "Mr. Barnes, that is very unusual. How old are you?"
"Ninety-eight," he replied. The congregation stood up and clapped their hands.
"Oh, Mr. Barnes, would you please come down in front and tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years and not have an enemy in the world?"

The old golfer tottered down the aisle, stopped in front of the pulpit, turned around, faced the congregation, and said simply, "I outlived all them assholes" - and he calmly returned to his seat.


Thursday, August 8, 2013

This shouldn't be that tough

Vaunted by the extensive blog  security measures  employed here at the Institute, I couldn't remember the friggin' password to access my own Blog!  As a result my summer hiatus continues.   

Directing our know-little, do-nothing FTI IT staff (the most reviled  dept. here at FTI) develop some sort of method to aide me in accessing my own website, the best they could come up with was to either, a) change the password to "password"; b) drop our  security package entirely allowing continuing guest commentary and contribution from whomever sits down at the public kiosk from which this all emanates; or c) simply re-post already published articles eliminating the need for security as the information will already be known. Finding all 3 proposals as unacceptable, I immediately and forthrightly dismissed the entire staff and am now scouring the Linked-in website for qualified replacements.   Qualifications are simple:  know a little about computers, understand that what I say go's, and be willing to be a part of a constantly hated, minimally respected, team of deadbeats, slackers, and losers.  

In other words: trying to match the team to the target audience.   

Thursday, July 4, 2013

And on the 4th of July no less

I was all set to write today about my vacation when Kfred Jr 2 sent a message and some pictures home from Afghanistan.  I thought I would share the story (most of you already know it) with our 2 faithful readers however, as you are not direct family.

Jr. 2 told us that he was going to be up for an End of Tour duty  award while serving in Afghanistan to be presented by Senator John McCain..  He still has 3 more weeks to go before he rotates out and we figured that, though noteworthy, the ceremony would be "routine."  Again, not to downplay the significance or accomplishment, rather, another part of the military life with a bonus of the fact that he would meet McCain.    After sending the pictures, though, we noted that the award was actually the Bronze Star! He received it for exemplary conduct "while serving with friendly foreign forces engaged in an armed conflict against an opposing armed force in which the United States is not a belligerent party."  Wow.  That's big.  

There is nothing else to say.  Do you think his Dad is proud?  Yeah, he is.    

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

How I SPENT my Summer Vacation



Poring over the bills from my summer excursion, I now understand the frugality of the little miser.

Mrs. Kfred  and I spent a long planned week in California driving from San Diego up to San Francisco with another couple.  And we had a fabulous time.  I had planned and reserved some hotels in advance via Priceline and Hotels.com, so, I knew my costs going in and actually cut some pretty good bargains.  As I had prepaid them before I left, that expense was already addressed.  As we get on the road though, well, it's time to eat lunch  and get a couple of microbrews for 4. "Thanks folks. Enjoy the rest of your vacation, I will be your cashier."  Sounds innocuous enough.  That will be $85 please.  Hey, here we are at the 18th of Pebble Beach.  Let's eat there.  Yeah, that sounds good. Yike's! they're kind of proud of their setting here.  Oh I know, but c'mon it's Pebble Beach; when are you going to be back here anytime soon? Yeah, you're right. Lets sit outside in the sun. "Table for 4? No problem. You can sit right here.  Let me tell you about the lunch specials". $181 for lunch was a bit of a shocker, but, you know, it will be a long time before I probably go back and I WAS at Pebble Beach.

We go to Mission Ranch in Carmel to have dinner At Clint Eastwood's place.  It's an old working cattle farm on the Bay that he rescued from bankruptcy years ago which was slated to be bought by a bunch of condo developers.  They have a restaurant and piano bar that was a lot of fun and is supposedly frequented by Eastwood frequently on weeknights.  Of course, he didn't show when we ate there, but it was a fun experience.  Apparently, he is getting a little grumpier in his old age and doesn't deviate far from some of his recent movie characters when it comes to pleasantries.  Regardless, dinner for 4 was nothing that couldn't be defeated by the better part of 4 Franklins. 

I know we spent more on food than we did on hotels.  But, hey, I'm on vacation.     I wonder if Pricleine will consider starting a name-your-own-price for dinner option.