Calisthenics FTI Style

Hey Kids! 

Here's a great way to act like one of the Weirdo's without causing Mom and Dad the shame of admitting your are housed at FTI.  Perform this great physical ability challenge and you will immediately be mistaken by others to be one of our team. 

The challenge is easy:   Without anyone watching you and while sitting at your desk in front of your computer, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.  Now, while doing this, draw the number '6' in the air with your right hand.  Your foot will change direction.   Better yet, ask Mom and Dad to try and then laugh with your friends when you see how dopey they look. 

The calorie loss is not due to the exercise but rather, the amount of energy used to repeatedly shake your head in disgust. 

Jukebox: 29 Years and counting. Happy Anniversary, Dear.

Are You Really Sure About This?

I received an email yesterday from Jemma  Clark, senior editor over at a new website, Videojug, whom is   searching for a select group of writers and bloggers to become Founder Members on Videojug Pages.  As she explains it, "Videojug is a powerful new self-publishing website that helps people with unique know-how & expertise (i.e. you) connect with our knowledge-hungry audience. I am searching for a select group of writers & bloggers to become Founder Members on Videojug Pages. I came across your blog - '(n) Flatline Thinking' - and was really impressed. I'd like to invite you to join our growing community of writers."  She also wanted to entice me to join by offering a "coveted Founders Badge" to prove I was part of the organization.  Of course, I didn't tell I already have the only one that matters. 

As flattered, impressed, and awestruck as I am by all of this newfound attention, I don't have the heart to inform Ms. Clark that, for the success of her new website,  I probably won't be joining her organization.  Based on the readership of this published daily struggle, apparently (and rightly) there is no huge demand for knowledge of our efforts here at FTI.  Our 2 faithful readers drop by periodically to trade verbal jabs with me and then are not tracked again for a couple of days.  Additional extensive analysis has shown that the other handful of readers here are a result  of a misdirected search engine query of individuals inquiring about the phrases "pocket-lint creations" and "blogs resembling fatal accidents". 

Ms. Clark:  I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.  I hope you make a million dollars as you move forward.  I hope you become the knowledge/resource site of the masses.  I am just not sure if our contribution will push you to that level.    We've contributed to 3 similar organizations in the past; none of them are still around.  Something about lack of content. 

Sensitivity Class is upcoming

Our group of Misfit's tend to behave themselves fairly regularly, and other than their frequent bouts of stupidity, normally act in an acceptable manner most of the time.    Our rules and code of conduct are strictly enforced.  A recent incident here highlighted the need for continuing reminders of these rules.

The Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe, is a highly sensitive, finely tuned, precisely calibrated instrument for determining the truth and is not a toy.  Each of the Misfits has that fact drilled into them on a regular basis, and I tolerate no deviation from this policy.  I was taken back a bit, then, when Dickie the Peap came up to me surprised, excited, out of breath and explaining that he had something to tell me about our mainstay marvel here at FTI.  Now, our 2 loyal readers know that the short-armed one is a frequent, (and might I add,) very easy target for ridicule.   I expected this to be one of those moments that we would all roll our eyes over what ever piece of wisdom I was about to receive.    Instead, Dickie explained that he  had been testing the accuracy of the Truthometer Deluxe with basic test questions and statements which he knew the answers to in order to confirm and chart it's accuracy.  One particular statement caused our mechanical marvel to buzz, whirr, and emit a small amount of smoke, which  caused the Frugal One to panic and immediately exit the room where the Truthometer is stored.  Dickie was worried that as he had left it in a precarious position, and had not followed the proper steps in shutting it down, the result might be some long term damage.  After investigating and determining that no actual damage had occurred, I immediately suspended Dickie from any group activities for the next week and admonished him to never do such a stupid thing again.  As of now, I consider the whole incident over.

Looking back, I shake my head over how much supervision these idiots actually need.  I tell them and tell them and tell them not to touch the Truthometer Deluxe.   It's like baby-sitting a bunch of little kids.  All of this to determine if an actual piece of equipment is working or not.  Can't they see?  Of course, it works.  

Dickie's test statement? 

"Two women were sitting quietly together, minding their own business."

That's what Friends are for

At our weekly meeting yesterday, I was informed of some displeasure and dissension over my posting and creation of  yesterday's pocket reference guide comparing the Misfits to Zombies.  The prevailing thought that I was a bit harsh, unflattering, and a bit mean spirited in doing so.  Upon further reflection, I suppose it was a bit biting and, as a result, I immediately issued an  apology.   The Zombie representative accepted my apology and that was it. 

To follow-up in that direction, I note that one of our 2 faithful readers seems to be having a blue, introspective period.  Having extensive experience in dealing with, and recognizing situations requiring, harsh interventional  tactics, I immediately  reminded this reader of steps we here at FTI can take to correct such feelings.  In no uncertain order, they include: 

1. When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.

 2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you finally got laid.

4. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about  how much worse it could be until you quit whining.

6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.

7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are  well again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall -- I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.

These are basic tactics anyone would perform to help a friend out of the dumps.  One other observation I have made is that a good friend would bail you out of jail.  A true friend would be in jail beside you. 

And people say there is no compassion left in the world anymore.  Ha!

Clip it Out and Save it

I recently received as a gift for my Birthday the book, "The Zombie Survival Guide".  I don't know what to make of it as it just reads a bit oddly.  I think the reason I am so confused is that it is obviously a humor piece, but, is written so cleverly and factually that you think it is serious.  Anyways, as I thumb through it,  I do see some reasoning for giving it to me in the first place.  The giver of the gift is aware of my position here as Executive Director of FTI and thought I might use it as a desktop reference on those days that I am feeling my situation seems a bit confusing.


As I was perusing it, it became clearer to me that there are several striking similarities between the Undead and the Misfits.  I have constructed a small, handy pocket reference guide belows.  Feel free to contact us here at FTI and we will rush you a free laminated  pocket sized replica for your wallet or purse to help you identify if you are actually dealing with a Zombie or have encountered one of the Misfits. 

Zombies	Misfits	Difference
No Intelligence	Low Intelligence	Minimal
No Language abilities	One of our guys can actually burp the "Star Spangled Banner"	Significant
No Social Dynamics	Our team set the World record for the Team Nosepicking Relay Race	We're still working on all of the words to "Kumbaya" presently.  We should be ready to perform at our Christmas Gala.
No Financial  Abilities	3 Words:  Dickie the Peap	Case Closed
Awkward Physical Coordination	Gummo the Balloon Boy can ride a bike and tie a balloon at the same time.  Blindfolded.	Useful when we conduct our off-site "Once-in-a-Lifetime/Everything Has Got To Go" vehicle disposal Sale

EDITORS NOTE:  Though this posting appears to be a helpful gift by the author for the good of the readership, full disclosure dictates this is actually the result of the state mandated once a year commitment for Community Service to be performed by the Flatline Thinking Insititute as part of their original Charter Agreement. 

Any advice given here should be taken in light of the disclosure made above.

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.

And just like Sunday Brunch, most of the stuff here is overvalued, pre-cooked, and have already been handled by some snotty 6 year old kid.  So, 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.

Even though they are crooks, they are very similar to our team

TIRANA (Reuters) – Two would-be Albanian bank robbers were arrested Wednesday as they tried to drill a passageway into a bank vault from a shop they had rented above it, police officials said.

In an aborted heist echoing the plot of the Woody Allen film "Small Time Crooks," the two men were caught after the noise from their drilling between the upper floor shop and the bank vault alerted the authorities.

"We moved in when they were in the last stages of finishing the tunnel," Tirana police chief Tonin Vocaj told reporters.

Jukebox: And we're not talkin' Kenny G

We all have a purpose

The Summer FTI Roadtrip "Quest for Normalcy" tour has been completed and I can now start focusing on other tasks at hand.  I have scheduled a meeting with my able-bodied Assistant Director/Trustee, Giacommo, for a full review of activities during my absence later this afternoon.  A cursory review of our daily Stupidity log indicates nothing out of the ordinary; of course, with Giacommo on watch I would have expected nothing less.  Regardless, I am prepared to deal swiftly and decisively should  anything arise. 

The final leg of our tour took us to Tulsa, Oklahoma in support of activities of Dilbertland.  As noted earlier, Dilbertland is overall fairly sane, though I can see some potential for unbridled stupidity lurking near the surface.  One of our 2 Faithful readers questioned the need to go to Oklahoma in an earlier comment: What? Tulsa? You are in Oklahoma, seriously? Who comes to Oklahoma ? to which I would reply in the same vein in regard to this site: What?  You are reading this stuff, seriously? Who reads this shit?  Not wanting to appear snarky or condescending, I gently remind our 2 faithful readers that if not for their unwavering periodic reading of this drivel, my work here would devolve into something equal to  the anonymous toiling away of an obituary writer for the weekly community newspaper. 

Upon further reflection, I just realized that at least that guy was writing about someone whom actually had a life.  The idiots I am surrounded with have never had one.

Get the roadies to hurry up

A quick update before I am out of here:

The final leg of the Summer FTI Roadtrip "Quest for Normalcy" tour kicks off today.  I am off To Tulsa, Oklahoma for a related function of Dilbertland activities and meetings.  Dilbertland is, by and large,  reliable, predictable, and dependable,  Lately, however, some actions and decisions have left me scratching my head to make me think perhaps this may actually be a preview for our fall FTI  tryouts scheduled for later in the season to add new members to our cast.  If so, I may have more ahead of me than I originally planned, 

Regardless, the environment should be target rich and the activities similar to what I experience on a daily basis.  I will try to make some remote broadcasts,  otherwise, a full report will be here on Thursday morning.   

It's Green Sunday

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

This is akin to the discovery of penicillin

With absolute and full credit to Gummo, the Balloon Boy......

As part of our on-going therapy and long term care, independent studies and tests are conducted regularly here at FTI to help the Misfits cope with life's everyday pressures. 

Interestingly, one of our own, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, took it upon himself to develop some alternative, natural type of therapy that would not involve medication and to approach the problem from a "natural and holistic" perspective.  Spending countless hours into research, Gummo tested, revised, and ultimately, developed a marketable concept that is  summarized here.   Ultimately, his own double blind study proved that this method of relieving STRESS does not work and did nothing more than  give him a headache.

A remedial solution of  repeated Johnny Walker Red and water cocktails was developed and appears to be addressing the problem.

Jukebox: I hope they are ready for FTI

Once you leave.....

My recent decision to leave Facebook was an easy one.  Apparently, some people have "withdrawals" and go into a state of depression because they miss the interaction so much.  Me?  Not the case.  I had a total of 37  friends comprised in the following categories:  3  people I wish to speak to on a daily basis, 2 siblings, 6 people I know through Dilbertland, 21 people I knew through high school a million years ago and haven't spoke to or seen since, 4 cyber characters that I have absolutely no idea why they "friended" (is there such a word?) me,  and  the remaining one being The Green Comic.

Green mentioned both directly to me yesterday  and made a comment on this forum earlier  that he wished I would reinstate my membership as apparently no one is paying him any attention.  At this point, even negative attention from me is something he values and craves.  My occasional gentle reminders on Facebook to behave and act appropriately would be constantly met with his signature "HEY PAL!" greeting and then followed with some type of misspelled insult which I always found difficult to pay any attention over.  Still, he is one of our own and everyone needs a lift once in a while. I thought I would make a quick log-in, boost the pity factor on his own wall, and bail out once again.

Anyways,  I tried to  log back in yesterday and repeatedly got the message that my email address was no longer tied to any Facebook account.  I contacted the Facebook help desk and was informed that Green's account had been placed on a "Stupidity Watch" resulting in any present and past emails accounts of persons friended by the Green One were now subject to review, evaluation,  and possible termination for the protection of Facebook's own reputation of relevancy.  Apparently, they recognize idiocy as well and want no part of it at their site.

I wish we at FTI had some type of process to deal with  idiocy appropriately.  Facebook is so large they can cover it by having so many members that it can be hidden.  Our small organization does not have that luxury.   As it stands now, we can identify and recognize it, we just can't avoid it.    I guess I will just ignore it and get back to tending my crops at Farmville.   

The Komen people might want to rethink this whole thing

Yesterdays' staff meeting included the agenda item of this weekend's pending  activities.  Included was one that may be potentially troubleful:  The upcoming annual  "Komen Walk for the Cure Fundraiser" to battle breast cancer that is scheduled for our area.

Being past supporters of this fine event for nearly 5 years now, both Mrs. Kfred and I have participated in the fund raising walk portion of their various events.  This year, due to a scheduling conflict, Mrs. Kfred is going to participate as a booth volunteer at the pre-race instead of as a participant.  Understanding the importance of this cause, the Misfits want to be involved as well and have formed a team, "Rubes for Boobs" and want to walk as well.  My problem is that as Executive Director, my job is to preserve the small amount of dignity,  relevance, and importance of our own organization while  trying to babysit  our band of idiots while they march together in solidarity to help raise money to fund research into this horrible disease. 

Obviously, one of the greatest challenges is to determine a way to keep our group together in the sea of thousands of participants.  Various methods were discussed and debated, but in the end, it was decided that we will line the Misfits up, tie old bras to each of their left wrists,  then tie their free right wrist to the  adjacent Misfit's strapped left wrist and VOILA!  A nylon chain gang ala a bunch of 4 year olds at a downtown crosswalk.  Everyone is linked together, we're in a straight line, and no pushing.  (Gummo!  Hold onto the strap!)

I'm a little apprehensive about the whole thing and unsure of the reaction to our efforts.  Obviously, it takes all types and we want to do our part.  My fear is that some walkers will actually think they are attending a walk for the wrong cure and be confused which event is being conducted.  The "Crawl to Stall Idiocy" is the following weekend.  I am the Grand Marshall. 

Really?? And whom exactly is saving all of this time?

Recognizing the need to remain at the cutting edge of technological  informational advances in today's world, we here at FTI are trying to embrace as many  options available in order to improve our efficiency,  productivity, and save time.   Of course, this does require a fair amount of interaction with the FTI IT dept (the most reviled department here at FTI) which at times can be quite challenging.  Case in point: my attempt to pay the FTI insurance bill on line. 

I received an earlier announcement from the FTI Treasury, (D. the Peap, Miser in Charge)  announcing that an incentive was being run by the bank to shift any payments previously paid via check to a debit transaction.   If we successfully completed 3 transactions in one month, the bank would make a small deposit into our account as a "thank you".   Never one to pass on any type of  free money, Dickie the Peap advised us to be on the lookout for any opportunities.   Receiving a bill from our insurance carrier, I noted the option  to pay on-line and figured this would be a good place to start.    Of course, this requires  setting up an on-line account with the insurance carrier.  I can understand creating an account with your bank, your broker, Amazon, Facebook, or the local mental health support system.  I don't know why you would set up an account with an entity that you interact with twice a year.   Regardless, I begin the process to provide the personal  information  and repeatedly receive the message :  "All information must be EXACT as on your bill to set up your account".  I check the bill 4 times, re-enter the same amount of times and keep getting the same result.  I then realize that, of course, it would be helpful to provide the policy number in the box that I had ignored and suddenly, PRESTO! the account is created.  Total time elapsed:  6 minutes.  Time remaining until computer potentially takes flight out of window:  90 seconds.  Having set up the account, I now encounter the billing screen where I can enter the payment information.  As I don't have the card on me, I have to get up, go get my wallet and dig through the cards to get the right one.  Enter the type of card , the card number, attempt to enter the expiration date.  Twice.  No luck.  Realize that a debit card transaction doesn't have to include an expiration date.  Attempt to enter the security PIN number on back.  Twice.  No Luck.  Same reason.  Confirm amount of payment.  Enter email address for confirmation.  Re-enter for Security purposes.  Send Payment.  "This transaction cannot be processed as a debit card. Return to previous screen and select credit transaction".    Total time elapsed: 4 minutes. Time now remaining until computer potentially takes flight out of window:  5 seconds. 

In the end, I paid the bill and all is well.  I understand the shift to a paperless environment; It's green, it's less clutter for the customer, blah, blah, blah.  I just don't know if I saved a whole lot of time, vs. writing a check, putting  it in a stamped envelope,  and dropping it in the mailbox.  And that saving time pitch?  Well, I don't think it applied to me. 

It's Green Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week, let alone the weekend. We get a day off too, you know.

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

See you tomorrow.

Never Forgotten. Ever.

The usual mirth, merriment, and silliness associated with our normal observations will be suspended today in honor of the over 3000 lives lost 9 years ago today.

Regardless of your political leanings, interpretation of cause, or assignment of blame, the cowardly acts of that day were despicable. May their be a special place in Hell for those involved with the planning and carrying out of those acts.

Jukebox: But what have I done to deserve this?

Kfred likes leaving Facebook

After a one year foray, I deactivated my personal  Facebook account this morning.    And I don't think I am going to miss it a bit. 

Like a lot of businesses and organizations, the cheap-assed Board of Directors thought that we could create interest and attain new levels of critical thinking by sampling and observing the thoughts of others.  This premise was dismally shot down within the approximate first 20 minutes of activation of our account a year ago.  And nothing has changed in the meantime.   

The facts that you like/are a fan of 1)apple pie, 2)boots made of meat, 3) goats wearing Catholic school girl uniforms, or have a farm and want to share your harvest with me (or any of a number of particular concepts) is actually quite boring to me.  Likewise, I am confident most people don't care of my thoughts of today's weather, where I am traveling, or viewing action photos of the Misfits. 

To paraphrase Betty White's recent observation of Facebook, "It seems like an incredible waste of time."    I agree since after all, why would I want to engage and write about topics that are stupid, mindless, and nonsensical?  That seems like a duplication of efforts. 

Precision at it's finest

A little recap of yesterdays Labor Day celebration:

• Invited to a neighborhood picnic yesterday, Mrs. Kfred and I were assigned the task of bringing some "appetizers".   Actually wanting to expand my comfort zone a bit, I decided I would try to  make some buffalo chicken wings. I have never done so previously, but thought I would give it a try.  Though the FTI commissary is normally closed during holidays, as Executive Director and not fearing raising any eyebrows of our crack security staff,  I was able to climb in through the back window, unlock the delivery door, and give the Colonel a run for his money.   I don't want to brag, but damn, they were pretty tasty for being the result of the maiden voyage. 

• The FTI Drill team's marching exhibition was  lackluster, at best, while performing at the neighborhood picnic.  Though we drill extensively and I thought that we had mastered the concepts of eyes front, right foot, and counting to 4, everything went awry when our unit encountered a small reminder of the presence of horses further up the processional lane that one of the broom boys missed while cleaning.    Gummo, the Balloon Boy, our honorary Drill major, began shrieking like a little girl in surprise and fright after stepping  in the gooey pile and began goose stepping to try to get it off the bottom of his boot.  The rest of the Misfits, trained to follow their leader, immediately began to mimic our lead Idiot, and as a result, began to perform some type of cadence that would best resemble a fire walker whom had never practiced with actual hot coals.  The forced congratulations and offers of condolences by the neighbors were appreciated, but actually, put a damper on the performance.  I would have rather been told, "Boy, those guys need a lot of work".     

BREAKING UPDATE:  I have just received an email from our neighborhood parade chairman whom noted that next year, all parade entries without the proper supervision to maintain order would  no longer be allowed to participate.   Great.  Those damn horses can stay in the barns where they belong.  Reading further, I note that drill teams are not welcome either.  I guess we will just stick with the Macy's parade at Thanksgiving.   

Hey, we're off today as well!

Hey, what are you doing here?  Though we appreciate your interest, today's a holiday.  Go drink some beer, bbq a hot dog, enjoy the last warm days of summer.  This crap will always be here.  Go on!

See you tomorrow.

It's Green Sunday

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.

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

It's Labor Day weekend; we get tomorrow off as well.  The weekly struggle begins again Tuesday. See you then.

Best filed as "Oops, wrong number".

HELENA, Mont. – General rule of thumb: when looking to buy marijuana, don't text the sheriff. Authorities said a Helena teen hit a wrong number and inadvertently sent a message to Lewis and Clark County Sheriff Leo Dutton, saying "Hey Dawg, do you have a $20 I can buy right now?"

A detective pretending to be the dealer organized a meeting at a time when the boy knew he and another teen would be at a particular store.

The detective spotted two teenage boys and one of the boy's fathers — who was unaware of what was going on — at the store. He called the phone number three times to make sure he had the right person. Dutton said when the detective showed the teens his badge, one of the boys fainted.

No citations were issued after the parents of the boys, who were 15 and 16, got involved.

Jukebox: Especially this One

Colonel, Captain. Captain, Major. Major, Kfred.

An event in Dilbertland yesterday reminded me of the old M*A*S*H show that highlighted the silliness of appearances. 

One of the upper executives was coming to town for an approximate 8 hour tour and  visit with some key customers.  Involved in his layover was an "inspection" of the facilities and a chance to give the staff a little feel good session, photo-op, and sale of commemorative t-shirts with the dates and cities he has visited to date listed on the back.  (OK, I made that part up.)    Anyways, the amount of cleaning, organizing, straightening, and otherwise ignored tasks to make an operation run efficiently and neatly, was amplified in advance of the upcoming visit.  Like the old M*A*S*H episode, everything was in place, the rehearsal had been perfected and then the phone call came;  there would be a delay.  Suddenly, everything reverted back to normal, routine took over once again, and reality struck home.  A half hour later, MacArthur arrived, looked around, made small talk with a couple of the grunts, mentioned to email him if there was anything that he could do to help, and was again back out the door.  Total time on premises:  10 minutes.

Now I work in a good organization.  It has issues like any other, but, it is basically good.   The real work is not done at the top, however.  It's done down in the trenches.  Everyday. By the little people. On the line. Everyday.   

GQ: Meet FTI

There have been two recent news articles about personal grooming habits of professional athletes that make me glad we have a policy in place here at FTI and reinforce the value of it for the Misfits as well. 

In the first case,  Manny Ramirez is set to join the Chicago White Sox and cut his trademark dreadlocks in order to conform to White Sox appearance policy.  Ramirez has always had a "go it alone" attitude and has used his hair to make a statement reflecting the same.  Now, he is going to have to come into the fold, get a haircut,  and be like the rest of the guys.   Secondly, one of the Miami Dolphins football players lost a 2.5 carat diamond earring during practice and was searching for it later on the practice football field.  The player apparently forgot to remove it before the start of drills and subsequently lost it on the practice field.  The earring was said to be worth nearly $50,000.

We don't allow any type of sharp jewelry, piercings, artistic tattoos, or any type of body art to be worn by the Misfits while they are here  for their own safety.  This safety concern is not for violence, retaliation, or gang affiliation identification, but rather to prevent any 2nd-rate roving circuses to claim a wandering Misfit as a potential sideshow exhibit.  Ripley be damned. 

Idiocy from a female perspective

I'll let our 2 faithful readers do the math on this one:  A phone call yesterday to the compound was received concerning our facility, our current capacity, whether we had separate quarters for both men and women, our ability to mentor on a meaningful basis, and if  any of our staff had ever confused illicit drugs for a pack of Juicy Fruit chewing gum.  Wannabe actress, rich girl, and "I don't do anything but try to be famous" Paris Hilton's recent arrest over cocaine possession,  her denial of any knowledge of it, and authorities  considering placing her in some type of diversion program as opposed to jail all make up for some interesting speculation. 

If she does get placed here at FTI,  I wonder:  Will authorities later second guess the decision to avoid jail in order to have her here and learn the hardened cheapskate tactics of  Dickie the Peap?  I think that would be a bit harsh of a sentence. 

Well, they sound alike

I currently am having mixed feelings over a particular incident that I instigated a week ago.  On the one hand, I am angry, incensed, and furious to the point that I am contemplating legal action.  On the other hand, I am equally glad and performing cartwheels (mentally, of course) in celebration .  I guess both could be described as extreme opposites concerning the same issue. 

My recent letter to A. Barry,  the CEO of AARP, was a direct response to his invitation to join his organization.  I felt I was clear, succinct, and gracious in turning down his offer to join his group.  Now I find out that he has solicited one of our own, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, and invited him as well to join by sending him his own personalized membership card.    I don't like the idea of an outsider meddling within FTI organizational boundaries, but, am joyful that I am able to castoff the latex tying one as no one previously has shown any interest in doing so.

Deciding I should confront this challenge head on, I contacted the National Field office,  Division of Membership Recruiting, of the AARP to get to the bottom of this and see if they really knew the caliber of people they were seeking in this case.  A lovely senior volunteer named Ermintrude patiently listened to me introduce myself and  explain a little about FTI, my concerns and conflict over the letter they sent to Gummo, and my request to cease and desist these unsolicited letters to our members.  She then proceeded to tell me she had a slight hearing loss, hadn't been able to find here hearing aid previously, but had just located it, and asked if I could  start over again at the beginning.  After 20 minutes of tortured conversation, she was able to look up in their potential new membership database and announce that, "Oh my, a mistake had been made."   The AARP had actually targeted a retiring side show freak from the circus with an affinity for the cane beverage, Rummo, the Baboon Boy, to join their group .  Apparently when the information was entered into the data base, a key punch error was made.  ("Oh, I have a touch of Arthritis, dear".)   I left the office with a sincere apology and well wishes. 

My mixed emotions has left me in conflict since the discovery of this mix-up.  Again, I don't like the AARP contacting our team directly without my knowledge.  I do like, though, the thought of moving one of the whackjobs out of our population.  I guess I chalk all of this up to the plight of getting older.  Our senses, coordination, and well being just start to generally decline.  I didn't realize that our level of intelligence did, as well.  

Our international division is considering this guy for membership

BERLIN (Reuters) – A Polish man living in Germany went about his business for about five years without noticing he had been shot in the head because he was drunk when it happened. Police in the western city of Bochum said on Tuesday doctors found a .22 caliber bullet in the back of his head after the 35-year-old went to have what he thought was a cyst removed.

Presented with the 5.6mm projectile, the man recalled he had received a blow to the head around midnight at a New Year's party "in 2004 or 2005," but had forgotten about it because he had been "very drunk," a police spokesman said.

"He told us he remembered having a sore head, but that he wasn't really one for going to the doctor," the spokesman said.

The wound later healed around the bullet and it was not until the man decided to have the lump examined due to recurring pains that the discovery was made.

Police said they were not treating the incident as suspicious as the bullet might have got lodged in the man's head when a reveler fired a gun in celebration.  "It may have been a shot fired up in the air which entered his head on the way down," the spokesman said.

Jukebox: A little Friday Soul

We're juuussst a bit under our goal

Reminiscent of the fiasco associated with last years investing attempt, my personal financial adviser has indicated that my latest effort is eerily having the same results.  With big returns, low risk, a stellar track record of reliable payments, and a gullible client, all of the pieces were in place for some big money to be made:  by the guy I gave the money to.  A month's worth of excuses, delays, dropped phone calls, pending meetings with clients, out or range contact, etc.  (I've heard them all), has yielded the same rate of return:  Zero. 

Though these are my personal funds, I had planned on donating any profits to FTI in conjunction with any monies raised during our upcoming membership pledge drive.    No actual FTI funds were diverted or used during this speculative venture.  I sure hope it resolves itself as these funds were going to be dedicated to restocking some basics around here:  medicine for the infirmary, hymnals for the chapel, and   tinfoil for the hats.   

***********************************************************************
FTI Gossip

Heard Around The Compound:  Insiders say that Dickie the Peap is scheduled to have lunch today with FTI Trustee, Giacommo.  No one is talking specifics about  the topics of conversation during the mid day grub-gab, but pals indicate Giacommo is resigned to paying in order to avoid a nasty scene when the check arrives. Hopefully, the short-armed one will have eaten earlier in the morning so the bill won't be too high.

***********************************************************************

Yo, youse wanna make some money?

Upon my return from my recent FTI road-trip to New York City, I have gotten back into the regular routine around here at FTI.  Plowing through the assorted bills, hate mail, periodicals, and scribbled anonymous threats,  I did note a letter/solicitation offer for a chance to refinance the FTI compound at a more favorable rate than we currently pay.   The compound was fortunately built and financed a few years back at the height of easy lending and good rates, so, currently it is not "underwater" as a number of other properties are at the present time.  Anyway, the terms seemed appealing and I called the representative. 

The recent economic upheaval has caused many people (including myself and Mrs Kfred) to look at their spending habits and see if changes can be made that would benefit them in the long run.  I have been thinking about moving to a 15 year loan versus the conventional 30 year term for a while and inquired into the terms of such a loan.  The difference between what we currently pay and the new loan would only be about 5/8 of a point and with the associated costs and increased monthly commitment, it just didn't seem to pencil out.  My post here as Executive Director of FTI pays no actual salary, so, I rely on my auxiliary position in Dilbertland and the income of Mrs. Kfred to keep us afloat.   I can pay ahead if I ever get enough cash flow to do so without any prepayment penalty, so, it didn't appear to make economic sense to move forward, but I felt I needed to speak with an expert.    Knowing that our resident financial expert/staff cheapskate, Dickie the Peap, may have some insight into all of this, I consulted with him to get his take. 

The short-armed one immediately set off on an argument about having "picked up the check the last time" and that it wasn't his turn to buy.  Re-directing his attention to the fact that I was not inquiring about purchasing a meal,  rather,  to discuss some advance financial planning, I came away with the realization of the similarities of how he had amassed his personal fortune and that of the guys on the corner I observed in New York City:    Run a game of 3 Card Monty and then deny everything when confronted.  It works every time. 

The Idiocy is sometimes in the simplicity

Having finished yesterday with the FTI Road trip to New York City, I was not entirely sure of what was to greet me upon my return here to FTI.  Thankfully, nothing too extreme demanded my immediate attention, nor, were there any messages from our local bail bondsman requesting payment for any infractions.  I will discuss some of the adventures in New York in later posts, but, do wish to point out one of the reasons our work here remains unfinished.

The one (and only) simple assignment I left the Misfits was to have each of them develop a simple unique thought of their own, test it with our fully restored Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe,  and then perform it to verify it's actual worth in real life.  Here's what a week's worth of effort produced: 

Gummo, the Balloon Boy:  For high blood pressure sufferers-simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure on your veins.  Remember to use a timer. 

Rat Bastard G:  Avoid cutting yourself when slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold the vegetable while you chop. 

Slateface:  If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives.  Then you will be afraid to cough. 

Marv the Neighbor:  If you can't fix it with a hammer, you've got an electrical problem. 

Supposedly, each of these sure-to-be-recognized-in-the-future pieces of wisdom was both actually performed and later confirmed by our own Truthometer Deluxe.   This was not how I envisioned our fully restored  Ebay castoff to be utilized during my absence as I restored it for more important validation queries. I guess I should be happy as it does confirm what I have thought all along:  these guys are idiots.

It's Vacation Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's  vacation Sunday.  Nobody's here.  This is all done automatically.  This is all done Automatically.  This is all done automatically.  

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

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

Jukebox: Sing it Frank

We'll be back shortly.

Toothbrush?  Check.

Official FTI ID Card?  Check.

Spending Cash?  Check.  (I have more than enough as I raided Dickie the Peap's buried soup can while he was attempting to chisel the newspaper kid down on his monthly subscription fee.)

Ceremonial Executive Director's pointed hat?  Certainly not.   That item  is reserved for only the highest and most solemn functions here at FTI.  The next regularly scheduled use of that is next month when we formally announce our partnership with  the good folks at Factorcrap (the same company who produced the Truthometer Deluxe still used today at FTI).  They recently  signed a one year licensing agreement with us here at FTI and in exchange for a small fee paid to us, they retain the rights to any intellectual property emanating from our efforts.  The old maxim of "You get what you pay for" is certainly in play here as they sure as hell didn't pay very much.  And I guarantee they aren't going to get very much.

Anyways, I think we are good to go.  We are out of here for a few days returning next Tuesday.  In the meantime, we suggest our 2 faithful readers take a break, escape the shame, and get a life.  It's really for your own good.   

Say! Now that sounds like fun!

The good folks here at Blogger, the service which publishes our daily screed, are having their 11th birthday party and are celebrating.  One of their ideas is to "have a Meetup party where fellow bloggers get together in-person, chat about blogging and celebrate with friends they may have otherwise only met online."

As described, it sounds simple. Go to the   BloggerFiesta Meetup site and do a quick search on the map. To join a scheduled party, click on the I’m Interested button on the party details page.   When you start or join a party, consider volunteering to be the Meetup organizer. Anyone can do it, plus you’ll get fame and glory. That gives you the ability to set the venue and time of the party. What you do at the birthday party is completely up to you. Meetups can be simple, and no party is to small.

I thought this would be a great idea as I wanted to expose the Misfits to  some other type of higher level thinking individuals in hopes it may spur them onto greater achievements.  Supposedly, the Fiesta scheduled
nearest here at FTI appears to be 1000 miles away, so, I decided to host our own meetup here at the compound.   We have had numerous inquiries and  excited responses, but interest wanes once we reveal our actual identity and stated purpose.  To date, we have confirmed responses from a woman who blogs about the perils and injuries related to competitive knitting, a 12 year-old child prodigy who writes daily about wild dung identification, and an individual simply known as "ToeJam".  The idiot FTI IT team (the most reviled department here at FTI) are excited about meeting this guest.   I know nothing else about him.

I think that I may have to "un-host' at this juncture of the planning.  Though I am sure these individuals could contribute mightily to some additional points of view on new subjects, I think we are far enough off of the beaten path of sensibility to try to accommodate anyone else.

When you need help, consult the professionals

I averted a major crisis this weekend with the passing of the resolution by the cheap-assed Board of Directors to allow me depart on the pending FTI Roadtrip to New York City without finalizing our succession plan.  Our two faithful readers will note that this could have been a major stumbling block into a successful journey, but, that issue has now been tabled due to the need for further study.  The BOD's are content with the policy in place and we will address it upon my return. 

A  new incident was revealed yesterday, however, that now has me recalculating the cost of this trip as it has suddenly exponentially exploded.  The main goal of the roadtrip is to visit with  Kfred Jr. 2 and spend the weekend in the city doing some tourist things and enjoying the sights.  The original agreement was that we were to go out with young Kfred Jr. 2 and a few of his friends and parents to celebrate the beginning of their final year at West Point.  Included are a dinner at Ninja,  a high end Japanese restaurant, in New York City on Friday night.  I received a call from  my youngest offspring yesterday informing me that an email was presently being forwarded with some descriptions of  various meals of the restaurant in question and that I should pick one of the entrées in advance.  Perusing, I saw some interesting choices that looked appealing.  I told young Kfred it looked wonderful and thanked him for being such a gracious host.    There was a slight pause and he replied, "Um, yeah.  The restaurant will be hosting you".  I again then looked at the choices and realized the numbers next to the descriptions were actually costs.  The cheapest was $38 and advanced to $88 for the largest meal featuring a Kobe Beef ribeye steak.  As I was invited, I assumed that I would be hosted (TRANSLATION:  "hosted" (n) 1: a guest of, 2: completely paid for, 3: your money is no good here), but, suddenly realized that was no longer the case.  Upon reflection, I realize you only live once, the kid is a good kid, I am on personal time (with a small stipend from the FTI petty cash account), and what the heck; no big deal.   I made my choice, relayed it forward, and realized I will be at FTI a year longer than presently planned in order to pay this trip off. 

Later, recognizing that we have an expert cheapskate within the Misfits, I phoned Dickie the Peap for how he would have dealt with this type of unexpected request for funds.   I explained the circumstances, outlined the potential costs, and relayed the significance of the event to the short-armed whiner.  Consulting  his checklist of finely tuned questions and scenarios (locations of nearest exits, proximity of table to restroom for excusing oneself when check arrives, oft-used complaints of food quality to avoid paying, deliberate planned shortage of actual cash and no credit cards on self with promise to "catch it next time", etc.), the Peap advised that ultimately he would simply buy a can of $1.79 albacore tuna in advance, roll it in a lettuce garnish off the plate of one of the other diners, and consider it a suitable substitute for the Sushi entrée served by the restaurant itself, and use the $38 savings toward  something more important.  Like contributing to any efforts dedicated to delaying the funding into studying the causes of alligator-armed syndrome.   

Professionals.  They really are worth what you pay them.

it's Green Sunday

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.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Isn't this a function of government?

A crisis has erupted here at FTI that has thrown our plans for the weekend into utter chaos.  An emergency meeting of the cheap-assed Board of Directors has been called for later this morning and I only have a few hours to prepare for it. 

The problem is that our succession plan is a bit old and has never been formally updated.  Obviously, I have assigned my assistant, Giacommo, Trustee status which covers most basic circumstances, but, does not address long term authority and ultimate responsibility issues for care of the Misfits.   As Mrs. Kfred and I prepare for the upcoming FTI roadtrip to New York next week, I have been notified that concrete plans have to be in place before my departure and ready for the meeting today.  Hence, my problem. 

Thinking that ultimately, the government would have some type of resource to help, I have contacted numerous local, state, and federal agencies specializing in such diverse categories as animal control, mental health, and waste management operations.  To  date, none of these agencies seem interested or capable of dealing with our type of population.  A NASA  related organization, Alien Studies and Confirmation, did perk up a bit when I explained the oddities, deformations,  and peculiarities of our team, but ultimately passed on further involvement. 

My fear is if I don't find a responsible agency, I will be prevented from leaving.   I do know one thing for sure:  I don't have to worry about government takeover and bailout of our  operations here.  They only get involved with things that can be further ruined.  We're already there. 

Jukebox: I'm Getting There

Will there be a public trial?

Never being satisfied with anything but a complete and honest disclosure, it does pain us to air our own dirty laundry. Yes, I am talking about the actual undergarments worn by the Misfits here at FTI. Yesterday was wash day and we apparently violated some of the local regulations relating to visual pollution by drying some of the garments on an outdoor clothesline which prompted an anonymous complaint call to law enforcement. Having been notified of local rules and regulations, we promptly complied and removed the offending garments from the view of passersby. I guess some people don't understand that it is not considered threatening that some men wear women's undergarments. Come on. It's no big deal.

Actually, we currently have a bigger controversy occurring that needs to be addressed. The FTI Ethics, Morals, and Integrity Standards committee (whom also double as the operators of our wastewater treatment facility) are investigating an undisclosed violation of FTI policy. The details are murky  and everything is currently on a confidential basis, however,  information leaks from the committee repeatedly point to one of the members of the Idiot squad,  a local goat, and "Flexible Flora" (the Anytime, Anywhere, Always Willing Lifelike Love doll). 

All of this comes before next week's pending FTI roadtrip to New York.  This kind of stuff needs to be investigated and dealt with before our departure. I can deal with the shame and humiliation of this process; it's the fear of finding out what else emerges that scares me.   I might have to call all of the Idiots back from summer break and have an accountability formation and review.  And that scares me even worse than the actual investigation.

I think we can all relate to this guy

This is a great story. The FTI HR Department is pursuing him as a possible consultant.

No doubt he would fit in.

We are in control

I received a phone call from Brother Eddie yesterday. He definitely has a distinct personality and view on life that is a bit different than mine, but hey, that's what makes the world go 'round. He asks me if I am going to go to my cousin's pending 80th birthday party scheduled to be held 2000 miles from the FTI compound. (I guess the fact that we are brothers related by blood negates the fact that this woman is also his cousin.) The fact that he speaks as an unrelated member of the family with no connection to others seems odd to me. Regardless, I tell him no; I haven't seen her in 15 years and other than a Christmas card once a year, we don't keep in contact and there isn't much of a relationship there .

After his phone call, I realized how irritated I am with the practice of people constantly talking in the 3rd person. Politicians, media relations people, corporate executives all do it; "We have decided", "Our company", etc. Why do people talk that way? Are they trying to hide something? Is it an attempt to project some sort of stature or create some sort of illusion of importance?

Our FTI research staff has been assigned to study this phenomena.

It's Green Sunday

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.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Jukebox: Look Deep into my eyes

An open letter

Yesterday I received a solicitation letter and my temporary AARP membership card in the mail from the CEO of AARP, A. Barry Rand. The letter invites me to join AARP. I didn't ask for or request this card. They just sent it. It got me to thinking that we here at FTI might imitate this type of solicitation and build our benefactor list using this same method. I decided to write back and see if I would get a response:

Dear A. Barry,

Thank you for your recent invitation to join your organization. I appreciate the offer, but honestly, am not in need of your services at this time.

Your members look to you as a voice concerning health-related benefits, access to financial programs, someone to speak for their rights in Washington, offers of discounts on travel and other senior services, and to offer Safe driving courses. Those are all worthy causes and I offer my Congratulations on achieving and providing these services to your members.

Our group has goals they expect us to provide as well. Based on the abilities of our population, however, ours are not quite as lofty. Our members are merely content with classes that demonstrate the life skills of correctly buttoning a shirt, tying a shoelace, and identifying social settings where "nasal excavation" is inappropriate. Our oft maligned, idiot IT squad (the most reviled department at FTI), has not a clue about anything related to technology and, as a result, the Pong tournament we conduct on our network of Commodore 64 computers has been temporarily suspended . We do, however, have one of the nations top financial experts on staff, Dickie the Peap. Dickie is so cheap that he actually produces the copper wire we use for electrical purposes here at the Institute by stretching pennies out to the consistency of wire. It is a bit unconventional, but, functional. Alas, he won't do this without remuneration (if you knew the Peap, there is no task done for nothing.)

These goals are basic and necessary. But they cost money. Can we count on your support? A small donation to our cause will give you the same warm feeling that one of our staff still experiences 5 nights out of 7 resulting in extra laundering of bedsheets here at the Institute. Send money before Labor Day and an actual dribble cup used by one of the Misfits in the recent past will be rushed to your door.

In closing, from one Executive Director to another, I can relate with the daily struggles of running an organization trying to serve it's member's and that is why, A. Barry, I am contacting you. Please look inside and consider our cause. I can assure you; we are no threat to your organization's member base.

Sincerely,
Kfred
Executive Director
Flatline Thinking Institute of Alternative Interpretation and Observations

I sure hope old A. Barry sends a check.

You can never go home

While conducting the Lost Reunion Tour this past weekend, I had a chance to go back past my childhood home. The is the only home I knew since I was born until 19 years old. I played in the leaves in the fall, collected the unripe green walnuts and placed them in the street waiting for some unsuspecting motorist to drive over them and crack them open, and played tackle football in the front yard while my mother always exhorted us kids to go "play in the field". (Of course, we never did as the field is also where my Father pastured his livestock and playing there would have exposed the ball carrier of not only losing yardage on the play, but, suffering the indignity of wearing the remnants of a freshly produced cowpie on your play clothes. Now, THAT would have gone over well with Mom when it came around to laundry day.) It's where we mowed lawn, learned to identify which weeds to pull in the flowerbeds, and watched huge spiders build their webs under the eaves. It was home.

Passing by this weekend, I didn't recognize the place. The yard had dry grasses and gangly weeds close to 3 feet tall in the front. A toppled TV antenna was laying on it's side on the rooftop. An old range and kid's pedal cart were strewn in front of the driveway. The windows had all of the shades drawn save for the one room where, as kids, we watched countless hours of TV on a black and white TV and never realized we were deprived because it wasn't color. There were 3 channels and one of them came in fuzzy because the station's transmitter was on a mountain that was blocked by some hills we lived near. The place was a dump.

It was the lone downer of my weekend. It still bothers me today. I realize I can't keep living 45 years in the past and I wouldn't trade all of my accomplishments today to go back to that time. I know I am welcome and can always go back and visit anytime I would like in my memories. It just gnaws a bit inside and I am not sure it will ever go away. Even if the place were turned around tomorrow and made pristine clean, I still would have a feeling of melancholy for once was. It's not the same. You can't go home.

I've got rehearsal down at the club

The beginning of the week is upon us and time to get back to normal business. I just completed The Lost Reunion Tour weekend and it could be described as nothing more than a qualified success. It also was a period of great enlightenment to me.

One of our goals for the Misfits here at FTI is to develop some sort of outlet where they can spend time in a recreational setting. Since most of the Misfit's ability to ably compete on the normal softball, basketball, or golf teams is highly questionable, I believe I may have stumbled onto a solution while on Tour this weekend. We will start our own FTI Nightclub.

In order to lead our Nightclub, I decided I needed to find a member of our team with charisma, stage presence, and obviously, the ability to sing. Though I personally possess many talents, I was, unfortunately, not gifted with the ability to sing. While on Tour this weekend, the Rat Bastard G and I engaged in various events that consistently ended in the evenings centered around the consumption of beverages that "enhance and amplify" the exaggerated abilities of most people. During one of these events at a karaoke bar, The Rat Bastard G impressed me with his vocal abilities and command to nail both the technically challenging pieces of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and The Happy Birthday Song in the key of monotone. Recognizing immediately the potential of such a talent, I decided on the spot that the Rat Bastard would be the natural leader of an FTI Nightclub. A star is born.

As a result, The FTI "Bastardana Club" will conduct shows nightly except Sunday and Mondays. Open mike is Tuesday where potential staff members can audition and try out to join the cast. The Green Comic will open most nights with his standard tasteless, stupid, retread jokes to be followed by Gummo, the Balloon Boy and Freako Deako conducting a mind reading exhibition (which probably won't last long as neither has a mind worth reading) leading up to the Rat Bastard headlining for a full hour with his consistent off-key efforts to wow and amaze the crowd.

We are currently accepting applications for a cigarette girl. Inquire within.

It's the Lost Reunion Tour Sunday

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.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Ringo, I love you.

I attended the Ringo Starr show last night with the Rat Bastard G and we had a great time. The show was fun; this year's line-up can still kick some ass on both Ringo's music and some of their own. (For those who are unaware, Ringo picks up various musicians each year and then forms his All-Starr band and tours.) This years line-up include both Edgar Winter and Rick Derringer who each had their own bands in the 70's. Neither has slowed down, though Rick seems to have added about 40 pounds since he first appeared in that silver jumpsuit he wore on the cover of his one album. The Rat Bastard is actually a huge Derringer fan and actually wore a replica jumpsuit to the show. He kind of looked like a guy trying to smuggle some puppies on to an airplane inside a Reynolds Wrap foil suit. I did endure some strange looks for attending along side thiso guy, but, put it aside and enjoyed the show anyways.

As noted before, I am 51 years old. The Rat Bastard is 53. We are most definitely, certifiably, middle aged. We were, however, definitely in the younger half of the folks in the crowd. I guess some people just will never let go of the Beatles. And yes, there were a couple of Beatles songs in the set, but, it wasn't the Beatles playing it. It was another group.

The show went off with only one minor hitch that, of course, had a slight FTI bent associated to it. The crowd was highly enthusiastic and vocal in their support of Starr and the band. After one of the numbers, I noted that a commotion where the security guys hustled a concertgoer out of the exhibition hall and a couple of roadies were scrambling around up on stage with rubber gloves and flashlights. It turns out that Gummo, the Balloon Boy, being the huge Ringo fan that he is, tossed his tighty whities up on stage ala what the women used to do with Tom Jones in the 60's. Later, Gummo told the investigating vice detectives he just got "caught up in the moment" and there was no other meaning intended. Obviously, the guy is a bit half-cocked to begin with, but, apparently they figured he wasn't much of a worry to anyone's safety, so, they cut him loose.

All in all, I had a good time. The thought of Gummo going commando is a bit disconcerting, but, on the other hand, I have to look on the bright side: he isn't using Depends.

Jukebox: I would be surprised, too

No, No, No, No, I don't ________ no more

I received word yesterday that Gummo, The Balloon Boy, is also slated to be a part of the Lost Reunion Tour weekend commencing in less than 36 hours. As a result, I will be with 3 of the Misfits at one time. This is definitely not how I had planned to spend a relaxing weekend.

The Lost Reunion Tour weekend is built around the premise of spending time with a friend of over 30 years where we can get together, socialize (Translation: drink without any spousal supervision), catch a show of Ringo Starr and his All Starr Band, and do "guy stuff". I thought I had all of the loose ends tied up and it would be a fun-filled weekend escape for me. Turns out though, that Gummo, the Rat Bastard G, and The Green Comic are all slated to attend the same show. The 3 Whackos have taken to attend the show as die hard fans. Intending to promote their allegiance and enthusiasm, the plan was to wear matching tee shirts and proclaim themselves as "Groupies". Being the deep thinkers these 3 are, somehow, the message was mistranslated to the shirt maker and they each now have a shirt with the word "Guppy" on the back.

Alas, as the tickets have been bought and the arrangements have been made, I do plan to follow through and soldier on through the weekend to the best of my abilities. I hope Ringo does as well.

Can I count on your support?

Mrs. Kfred and I were invited to a grass roots political forum last night. Neither of us are very political as I have recounted my political leaning here previously. (For the record, I don't trust either side. I think they all lie. ) Regardless, it was something I had never participated in and was curious to experience it.

We went to some friend's house to meet a young candidate whom is running for Congress. Our district has recently come into national focus since our Democratic Congressman is retiring and the district is very possible to flip to Republican. This young woman spoke for about 20 minutes detailing here various positions, thoughts, and insights on a number of issues. I came away impressed and hopeful for our country's future.

Identifying myself as the Executive Director of FTI, this young candidate asked me what issues were important to me. I obviously mentioned my interest in mental health funding as we here at FTI provide a valuable service to the community with no direct federal funding. She hadn't heard of FTI, but after I explained the at-risk population we currently serve, she immediately pledged to study the issue more intently and said I should be commended for helping my fellow citizens in such an unselfish manner.

Attending the meeting last night actually served 2 purposes: 1) I got involved with politics on a local level; and 2) I was able to re-calibrate the Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe. The mainstay machine here at FTI has been acting up lately and replacement parts are increasingly hard to locate. I thought it was going to require a complete overhaul, but had no way to test it to begin. Running some of these political statements and testing for accuracy, though, seemed to do the trick and all is well with the mechanical version of sodium pentathol.

I am thinking of forming my own special interest group and get as much Federal "pork" for us here at FTI as I possibly can. After all, our efforts would certainly not be considered wasteful. Would they?

Really, I MEANT to do that

Occasionally being accused of being a bit too "mean" and "hard-hearted" while describing the status and plight of the Misfits, I submit this incident as proof of the idiocy of which I am surrounded.

Yesterday, I described the upcoming FTI Roadshow Tours and their various details. I pointed out that the Green Comic had worked in some lame joke into his routine about me and called it pathetic. Green, in his rush to further attempt to insult me initially signed into the comment section under his real name (Yes, "The Green Comic" is actually a stage name) and further publicly insulted me. (I certainly don't mind the give and take with our 2 faithful readers and the occasional stray that visits this site, but for God's sake their retorts must be sensible!) Recognizing that compassion and fairness were due the little mental dwarf, I contacted Green, explained his error, retracted his comment, and offered to let him try to sign in again under his stage name and comment as long as it was appropriate. Green agreed and I thought the matter was over.

The nitwit, instead, commented on a totally unrelated post that now confirms for even the most casual reader that deep thinking and basic comprehension are not requirements of readership at this site.

Case Closed.

The real action is out in the field

I have begun the FTI Roadshow Tour. Over the weekend it was dinner with Dickie and Mrs. the Peap. Later, over the upcoming weekend, it's the Lost Reunion tour with the Rat Bastard G and The Green Comic. The purpose of the Roadshows is to get out and see the Misfits in their normal surroundings and ascertain whether they are capable of advancing and leaving our care. Common sense would tell you probably not; actual observation to date has confirmed no way in Hell.

Dickie the Peap was on his best behavior this past Saturday as he tried to constantly butter me up. "Oh, here. Let me get you a cocktail. I bought your favorite brand. I hope you like it". "Say, can I get you anything else?" "Here take this home with you, we won't drink it". On the surface, these types of offers and comments are very generous and heartfelt. However, analysis of body language and behaviors indicated a person highly troubled with the concept of giving anything away without some type of reciprocal trade of a value equal to no less than two times or higher in return. Dickie's obvious physical discomfort resulting from these types of offers were similar to a those of a 5 year old being admonished to not pee in the pool after having just drunk a gallon of Kool-aid. He just couldn't hold it. I don't think he is ready to be on his own.

The Rat Bastard G has slated a full weekend of activities and, I suspect, a probable 2 pm Matinee show of the Green Comic on one of the weekend days. They, too, will be observed for any types of any physical discomfort as I perform some situational stress tests to see if they are capable of independent functioning. The Green Comic is already on my short list after having developed one of these 'zingers' into his routine: Q: WHAT HAS DARK HAIR, SIX LEGS, AND RUNS THROUGH KFRED'S DREAMS? A: THE JONAS BROTHERS. Weak at best and more aptly described as pathetic. The Rat Bastard is under watch because, well, he is the Rat Bastard. Regardless, both of these two Misfits are more than likely due back for more supervision.

I always get a sense of satisfaction after completing these small journeys; the sense of satisfaction and gratitude I feel is immense. For accuracy's sake, I point out that, unfortunately, this satisfaction does not come from within, but rather the countless notes of gratitude I receive in the mail from local mental healthcare professionals. Their budgets can only service so many and our guys just add to the problem.

It's Green Sunday

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.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Now, who can I blame?

I was dismayed and disappointed to find out some disturbing news. My able-bodied Assistant/Trustee, Giacommo, informed me yesterday that his supplemental employment position with a type of organization very similar to FTI has ended. As a result, he will be searching for new opportunities. My fear is that may require him to resign his part-time position here. I'm not sure that is best for all involved.

Giacommo came to us a little more than 4 months ago and has performed admirably in his short time with us. He has done everything unquestioningly I have asked of him and save for his one unauthorized absence (when I really could have used the little knucklehead), has been an exemplary employee. I have requested an emergency meeting of the cheap-assed Board of directors to determine if we may be able to offer him a full time status with us here at FTI, but, do question the viability of such a move. He appears to have a lot going for himself. I don't know why he would want to move backwards with such a move.

Regardless, I have a feeling we ultimately will be able to retain him on some type of fill-in basis. He is well spoken, personable, and is able to tie his own shoelaces independently. He truly is one of our own we can point to as an FTI success story. Lord knows, we don't have many of those.

Jukebox: A benefit of Summer

Go ahead. Get it out.

During yesterday's weekly group sessions with the mental health caseworker, an exercise was assigned to the Misfits. Each was instructed to write an open letter to whomever they chose and explain why they had become the person they are. I was told this was a form of therapy intended to help each of the little Whackjob's address their individual problems in concrete terms. The thinking went that once it was on paper, it could be used as a self-identified document from which to start some type of self-improvement.

In what I have become ever-so-accustomed to, here is a none to surprising partial list of the Misfit's identified recipients and a selected excerpt of their letter:

Dickie the Peap to his first lemonade stand customer: ......."and when you said, "No kid. $5 is too much for a glass. Will you take a dime?", I knew that everything in life could be chiseled down. Thank you.

The Green Comic to a member of one of his early audiences: ........but when I replied,"What do you mean I'm a no talent hack and you've heard that one before? Do you know how hard it is to find this shit?" , I knew I had been found out.

The Campus Eunuch to one of his students........."and when you came to my office and told me you were willing to do anything to get an A and then asked me what I would like you to do, I suggested "study". What's wrong with that?"

Obviously, this caseworker has a long career of steady employment and job security in front of them.

This economy is affecting us all

The current economic situation has forced us here at FTI to consider a concept I would have never previously considered. I am both troubled and, yet, open to the fact that some changes may have to be made if we are to successfully survive these trying times. Yes, I am talking about outsourcing.

I don't want to get bogged down in the arguments of shipping good jobs overseas that able- bodied Americans are willing to perform or moving operations in order to avoid taxes. It's true that we require tasks most Americans do not want to perform. It's also true that no one in their right mind wants to be here and since, as it turns out, Irving the Peap, has been in charge of our financial destiny, we don't have to worry a whole hell of a lot about any type of tax obligation. Other than the fact that my able bodied assistant, Giacommo, volunteered (nay, badgered me) for his position, we can't get anyone to help us. The major tasks are left to me to get accomplished.

Replacing the idiot IT team (the most reviled department here at FTI) would be a logical place to start. A number of organizations have moved IT operations to lower cost environments with a highly educated workforce. As evidenced by our visitor log on the side of this page, there seems to be a fair amount of curiosity of this site in the countries of Pakistan and India. I don't think these folks want to throw away their reputation of the birthplace of higher evolved thinking in the Cradle of Civilization to start taking over posting pictures of the Misfits competing in a relay drooling contest. Likewise, replacing our facilities team with some folks not fully understanding the intricacies of freezing our wastewater treatment facility to become a short track speed skating during winter may not be in sync with our stated goal of encouraging sound thinking.

In the end, I will have to have further discussions concerning this issue with the cheap-assed Board of Directors. I have to be very specific in how I approach this topic. I am concerned they may actually think I am advocating of adding some Misfits from foreign lands. We don't need to add to the knobs we currently house.

Will you accept this gift?

I was watching "Intervention" last night. It's the reality TV show where they profile an addict or troubled person who lives a lifestyle that is not healthy and also features the family members and friends who basically enable them to live this life of self-destruction. The formula of the show is the same: the first 40 minutes show how the subject interacts with others and how they are harming themselves, the next 15 minutes set up the preparation and actual act of the Intervention with one of their trained specialists (who are mostly recovered alcoholics or addicts), and the final 5 minutes relay the results. Sometimes it works, many times it does not. It's reality.

I have been thinking about contacting the producers of the show and invite them to feature the FTI squad on their show. Rather than focusing on one individual, however, I propose that they have a mass intervention on behalf of the Misfits: Confront the Green Comic with his borrowed jokes as nothing more than reworked material from 30 year old Readers Digest magazines; demand the that the Campus Eunuch stop living the lifestyle as a playboy and accept the fact that he is Jared from Subway's body double; get Slateface into a meaningful putt-putt golf program that doesn't feature a water hazard. This is the tough love these guys need.

In the end, though, the message is always the same: the person affected has to want to get better. As for me? There is a program in place to help me. It's called Idiots-Anon.

It's Broke Sunday. Again.

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. Having suffered through the revelation of our financial status, we are in no condition to think of anything else at the moment.

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

The weekly struggle begins again tomorrow. See you then.

Good boy. Here's a banana

A troubling event has shaken the faith of us here at FTI to our core.

Our 2 faithful readers will note that we have repeatedly chronicled the financial habits and traits of one of our own, Dickie the Peap. Relying on his financial wisdom and looking to him as the bedrock and model of fiscal frugality, we have always thought that our financial future would at least be somewhat secure. We have been stunned to find out that his stock picking prowess was nothing more than smoke and mirrors as evidenced by the accompanying chart displayed below.



The eagle eyed reader will note the precipitous drop in one day of nearly half the value of one of the core holdings of the Peap Foundation after it was discovered that the company in question is nothing more than a couple of guys running a back-room boiler plate operation somewhere in Eastern Europe. To top it off, we have learned that Dickie did not actually research this firm directly himself, but rather, relied on his pet chimp, Irving the Peap, to select this firm via one of the oldest known stock picking methods known to investors-throwing a dart at a board.

As a result of this revelation, we are immediately severing all ties with Dickie the Peap in regard to Institute financial advising. Instead, our meager resources are now going to be entrusted entirely to The Amazing Kreskin. Now, that guy can predict the future.

Jukebox: It's Our first. No gifts, please.