Just so there is no misunderstanding.....

If you think there truly is nothing here of any importance and still came to check, I commend you: You really do need to get a life and obviously aren't afraid to admit it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. Writing this in advance 12 hours ago, the power of the internet allows me to schedule this to publish at a predetermined time. I am currently off on extended weekend for 4 days and am feverishly collecting and observing life to share with you later in new, stupid ways. In my absence of original thought, let me share these pilfered "Man Rules" as forwarded to me by Marv the Neighbor.

The Man Rules

We usually hear 'the rules' from the female side Now, here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules! Please note.. these are all numbered '1 ' ON PURPOSE!

1. Men are NOT mind readers.

1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!

1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 Days.

1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, it will be scratched.. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say 'nothing,' We will act like nothing's wrong.We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle. 1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.

1. You have enough clothes.

1. You have too many shoes.

There. I think that covers it.

Ya got nothin' else to say?

A slow period of renowned summer thinking and policy analysis, so, lets get down to some simple observations:

No longer suspected, instead, now confirmed: Justin Bieber is an idiot. Some guy that wears a Little Richard, comb-up, girly hairdo, spouting off about Prince William's receding hairline and then passing it off as a "joke" is, well, not very bright. Get back to us in 15 years Pretty boy. You might be surprised what you look like as well.

The increasing personal attacks in the Presidential race affirm my dislike of either of these guys. And the media doesn't understand why Americans are so disillusioned with politics. Would it be too much to ask either guy to tell us what they truly intend to do to help us than snipe about the other guy's shortcomings? (Editor's note to our lone reader: The preceding was the only grumpy, old guy, rant in today's contribution. We now return to the inane and meaningless).

Though multi-functional, some kitchen appliances have limitations. British firefighters say they saved an apartment from destruction after its domestically challenged resident tried to dry his wet socks and underwear in a microwave oven. The fire destroyed the appliance along with the two pairs of underwear and socks inside it, and caused smoke damage to the apartment in Weymouth, a town on England's southwest coast. The fire safety message here is to never put clothing of any kind in the microwave or an oven to attempt to dry them. Leftover lasagna, though, tastes great when fresh out of a dryer run in fluff cycle mode.

I am scheduled for a personal leave of my duties here shortly and will return with new stupidity, fresh idiocy, and updated pointless observations at that time.

Jukebox: And I Found Him

Disappointment, do you know no shame?

Word that, once again, the patience of the good guys is constantly tested was confirmed with the recent acceptance of the idiot developer's appeal brief and argument by my state's Court of Appeals. The fact that is was 5 days late and 45 pages over in length conflicts with their own administrative rules, yet somehow, "Justice" is being served. Now, it's Shifty's turn to succinctly and punctually refute the gibberish offered by little Pinocchio and set me and my fellow plaintiffs up to collect the moolah as it steadily mounts.

 It truly is not about money any more. I just want his to end , but, I will never give up.  Ever.

Hey Heloise, I got your household tips right here

Certainly giving credit where credit is due, a tip of the 'ol pointed FTI cap goes out to Dickey the Peap for these remarkable insights:

Avoid cutting yourself when slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold the vegetables while you chop.

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.

If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives. Then you'll be afraid to cough.

And, surprisingly, my personal mantra which I actually live by on a daily basis as evidenced by the fact that the FTI toolbox solely consists of 2 hammers: one big, the other bigger;

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

Jukebox: Hoping yours is cooling you

Thanks God for the Jackson's

Running a very close 2nd place (and I mean it's a razor-thin margin) to the population of Misfits here at FTI in the category of Oddballs, Weirdo's, and well, Strange Ducks,  I offer the Jackson family. As in Michael Jackson's family.  Their latest adventures typify what seems to always go wrong when money is involved.

The fact that one side was left out of the estate which is now approaching one Billion dollars creates the conditions for strange lawsuits, family squabbling, and just plain bizarre behavior. Of course, none of this is new to the Jackson's, but, you would think they have enough dignity to keep it a bit more private and not to play out in public.

We all have family members a bit different. We all sometimes think that our family is a bit strange. None of us, though, experience or come close to approaching the type of behavior of the Jackson's. They truly are the standard.

A discovery of some good

Due to their tireless efforts, unending perseverance, and avoidance to blame failure because "we're out of Mountain Dew", I have now decided to refer to the FTI IT department (formerly known as the most hated and reviled department here at FTI) now simply as the "FTI IT department (the most hated department) here at FTI".  Their efforts over the weekend resulting in the clockdown count feature in the "An example of Greed" section to the right of this post is of their creation.  For that, I commend them.

During our periodic visit to Superior Court, the judge this past Friday ruled to increase the bond level necessary to guarantee that our judgment is satisfied.  He failed, however, to set an amount by setting the matter over until September21 to allow a ruling by the State Court of Appeals whether this whole mess is even going to advance at all.  If so, he will determine a number and rule accordingly.  If not, this whole mess is over and we collect what is in the kitty and get an order for the rest.  Either way, more money is  on it's way.  The graphic to the right summarizes this in an eye pleasing way.

I wish there were no need for any of this; I am so tired of this whole matter.    It really does wear a person down.  The one plus, though is that our IT department has garnered some new respect from me.  I, for one, would not want to be both hated and reviled.  I think "most hated" has a nice ring to it.  

Jukebox: By all means, play on

I guess the motto doesn't have to change

The recent approval by the FDA of a drug to be released for consumption by the general market to fight obesity caught our eye here at FTI. We have a remote connection in regard to this issue.

Earlier, a bashful connection of ours, Mr. X, was a huge supporter and major investor in this small, fledgling company. Many hours, tears, and promises for assured returns were spent on the premise that "this thing is going to hit. Soon. I think". Our immediate attention turned from confidence to uncertainty to outright questioning whether X knew what in the hell he was doing or not. (Earlier investigation of noting a primate connection is detailed in the link above.) Regardless, now that Mr. X's choice has been validated by the governmental overseeing body, congratulations are certainly in order.

UPDATE: Apparently X abandoned all hope in this venture approximately 16 months ago and sold his major stake in the company. As a result, any wildly, fabulous gains will not be enjoyed by X or his front operation, Anchorline Investing. There is an upside, however. The need to re-market Anchorline's tagline motto is not as urgent as one thought. They are safe to continue to use "We drop immediately and never get off of the bottom".

OK. That's not bad.

Our remaining eagle-eyed reader will note the addition of the new "Example of Greed"  feature posted in the right hand sidebar adjacent to this posting.  Congratulations to the idiot IT dept. (the most reviled department here at FTI) for their diligent work over the weekend.  It's not perfect, it's not quite the national debt clock with it's spinning numbers, and  it's not quite what I had expected, but, it certainly relays the message and stands as a beacon to the greed that one person would practice for their own gain.  It really is kind of sad.  Regardless guys, good job.  

Now, today, I sit on pins and needles.  This should all come to an end.  I am hopeful, I am optimistic, I am anxious.  I am not, however planning on getting a nickel.  I have been so disappointed in our justice system many times in the past.  Time will tell.       

I can think of nearly 250,000 reasons to be happy

Though not finished, the end is in sight. Hmmm. That thought sounds familiar. Maybe it is because I thought that over a year ago and still haven't collected a damn nickel! But, today it's different. Yesterday, was the fourth "final" deadline for the idiot developer to submit a brief to the state Court of Appeals to submit his case for review in response to our victory in the Great Dopes trial of 2011. Like all of the other past chances, it was met with this. But that's Okay. Shifty is now leading to believe that they are finally running out of bullets. And I can start collecting. I certainly hope so.

In celebration and as a gift to our one remaining faithful reader, I have assigned the idiot FTI IT dept. (the most hated and reviled department here at FTI) to post a counting meter on our sidebar adjacent to this page to track the money  I am supposed to collect.  Of course, I really don't think I will see much of any significance, but, it is fun to dream.   To date, the techno geeks have been stumped on this assignment  and currently, I see no results of their efforts, yet.  Typical.  But, rest assured:  No sleep will be enjoyed,  no food will be consumed, and no vacations will be authorized until the damn meter is in place.  I may even have to spend some of my new found gains to hire additional staff to perform this task.  Of course, by then, I will have the money and have no need to have a meter running.  Seems a bit odd, doesn't it?      

Jukebox: And never parted

Can you hear me now?

Rapidly ascending my list of screw-up companies while simultaneously dropping from  the top of  my corresponding  "Can't miss" list, the good folks at Verizon Wireless are about to momentarily step into  the blinding glare of the FTI Hall of  Shame spotlight. Like the long running advertising campaign using the clever slogan that title's today's post, I would like to ask their upper management this same question.

I went in to one of the Verizon Wireless stores the other day to get a new car charger for my cell phone.  No big deal.  The old one has lost it's tight connection with the phone such that I don't get a good connection to consistently receive a charge.  As a result, sometimes when I think my phone should be charged, I am at the same place I started 2 hours earlier: a near dead battery powered phone in my hand.  Anyways, normally you are met at the door by a Verizon greeter who, it turns out, is supposed to get your name and put you on a list to be helped by the next available salesperson.  Somehow, I  apparently accidentally engaged my personal cloaking device (I didn't even know I had that ability, but, I must have) and made it over to the charger rack undetected by any of the  employees.  I found the charger I wanted, but, was somewhat stymied as there was a locking device on the rack.  Further investigating, I found a lone wolf charger off of it's wire hanger of the rack and claimed it as the one I wished to purchase.  I  stepped up to the counter to make my purchase, eager to trade my hard earned wampum for the shiny gadget, and be on my merry way.  No such luck.   2 of the tie wearing, bearded, computer monitor staring drones, promptly ignored me for the first 30 seconds  as I stood at the counter.  No acknowledgement, no eye contact, nothing.  They then  both stroll away from the counter leaving me by myself with no "I will be right back", or "we'll ring that up in a minute", or anything else.  As I was pressed for time on that day, I thought to hell with it, left the charger on the counter, and walked out.  Yesterday, I go to a different location thinking I will swoop in and chalk up my previous experience  to bad luck.   This time, however, I obviously have all of my identifying features  as a "customer" working as I am pleasantly greeted by a smiling young woman who addresses me and asks me how they can help.  I tell her I just need a car charger for my phone.  She asks me for my name so that the next available salesperson can help me.  I reply I just need a charger; do I need  a salesperson to help me for that?  "Yes, and the next one available will be glad to help you with that."  So, I give her my name, and wait.  And wait.  There are 3 guys with  customers at the counter and 2 out on the sales floor with shoppers.  2 people are ahead of me  waiting in line and I just want a damn phone charger and get the hell out of there.  After 10 minutes of weight shifting standing from leg to leg making me to appear as if I am imitating a 5 year old who can no longer "hold it",  I decide the wait is not worth it  and vamooose out of the store.  Screw it.  

I am certain that neither of our 2 faithful readers here are connected to Verizon wireless.  As a result, today's whining effort is nothing more than a written catharsis for me in dealing with this issue.  I understand the idea of customer service, and prompt personal interaction with the customer.  Sometimes, though, the customer does not ask for that.  I am ok with self service when I know what I want, can go get it myself, pay for it in a reasonable amount of time, and be on my way.  To inconvenience me so they might be able to sell me something I hadn't originally intended to buy by interacting with me doesn't seem to be a good way to operate.  It leaves me thinking that perhaps the coverage is a bit spotty.  

What junk science?

Having been accused of being nothing more than a division of the assortment of do-nothings, stooges, and useless idiots on a regular basis, our FTI scientific division has always labored under a cloud of suspicion.   Their past work has been regularly questioned, vilified, and yes, outwardly mocked by the rest of the scientific community.  The research they conduct  bears the mantle of  being "not quite as good" as some of that conducted by their brethren with better reputations within the scientific community.   That might change now. A game changer has been found.  

While studying the global warming issue and trying to discover ways that our small population here at FTI can help the world community at large cope with the phenomena, our crack team of researchers and scientists decided to look at the issue from all angles.  One of the methods of study and query was to examine the habits and lifestyle of wildlife to determine if a clue existed among them.  A startling new revelation might actually have been uncovered.

Our team started out with the premise of  why there are no dead penguins on the ice in Antarctica.  Where do they go?

It is a known fact that the penguin is a very ritualistic bird which lives an extremely ordered and complex life. The penguin is very committed to its family and will mate for life, as well as maintain a form of compassionate contact with its offspring throughout its life.

If a penguin is found dead on the ice surface, other members of the family and social circle have been known to dig holes in the ice, using their vestigial wings and beaks, until the hole is deep enough for the dead bird to be rolled into, and buried.

The male penguins then gather in a circle around the fresh grave and sing:

"Freeze a jolly good fellow."
"Freeze a jolly good fellow."

Then, they kick him in the ice hole.

Don't bug me

Having recently been vindicated of all charges of dereliction of duty at a secret FTI tribunal conducted by the nitwit/misfit population I oversee, I am fully back and ready to take on all challenges moving forward.  This kangaroo court literally had  one of the marsupials in attendance as the Misfits thought this would add an air of authenticity to the proceedings.  Regardless, I am back and you had better lookout.

I had an experience yesterday that still leaves me a bit confused.  The details are too numerous and,  are actually, meaningless.     More importantly, it's the circumstances that I find interesting.  I contacted a colleague on the other side of the country about an issue which we share a common interest.  I do not personally know this person, but rather have had email contact with him on a couple of occasions.  He has always been a bit "prickly" (to that I mean "crusty" or "grumpy"  as opposed to the term with which I refer to one D., the Peap) most of the time, so, I basically handle with him with kid gloves.  I know it is nothing about me, rather, how overworked and under great pressure that causes this reaction.  Anyways, in the course of our exchange,  he cops an attitude via his written word that truly is uncalled for.  Now me, with my magnetic and engaging personality, never wanting to back down from a good insult-fest, immediately prepared to move into retaliation mode.  On reflection, however, I realized that  such a move was probably not in my best long term interests.  I need this guy a lot more than he needs me.  No use stirring up the pond for the rest of the time I have to work with him.  (I could have devastated him, though.)

I don't understand why some people arrive at work and immediately proclaim, "I am in a bad mood today".  Apparently that gives them the right to abandon all sense of cooperation and have an excuse for their surly and don't-give-a-shit-attitude for the day.   It's too bad your attitude is grumpy today, but you had better check it at the door because now you are at work.  And you aren't paid to be a loner.  You are expected to cooperate with all to get your job done.

There.   I feel better already.

It's not about a barbeque

Jukebox: Truly, the Last Dance

A witness to a rarity

I lost. There it is.  I have been remiss in not congratulating Dickie the Peap for having won our latest golf grudge match this past Friday afternoon. After a spirited back and forth on the course, we walked away with me being down 2 strokes to the little miser. As a result of suffering this humiliation, the consequence was one of typical Dickie the Peap: me having to lay out a whole quarter (a quarter!) to the triumphant victor. Along with my quarter I offer heartfelt congratulations. You were the winner. You were the victor. You were the better player. For that day.

It's funny, though.   My prize, however, was much greater. What I took away was well worth the cost of the contest. Like witnessing an unsuspecting, majestic, African lion in the wild; the splitting of a cell under the eye of a microscope, or the pause of a hummingbird in mid flight, I witnessed an event of such epic proportion that I am sure I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It truly was a memorable moment.  You see, one of our rituals during this periodic battle of lousy golfers is that we first have a lunch and a couple of pre-golf beverages to relax the nerves in advance of  the pending battle.  One of the caveats is that we alternate the hosting duties for these lunches.  This particular day's responsibility fell upon the shoulders of the resident Big Spender.   Everything was going well; the food delicious, the conversation varied, the beverages satisfying as usual.  Our waitperson came by and  picked up the bill along with the barely used, like-new condition, 3 year old credit card   from El Cheapo meant to satisfy our responsibility to the restaurateur.  Upon her return, she placed the completed bill and card in front of me.  What happened next was truly a rarity. Imagine a frog that snares a bug with it's tongue from 12 inches away; a serpent that strikes a mouse with almost invisible swiftness, or the force that a machine spring exhibits after losing it's resistance.  That same type of reaction time, force,  and motion was what I witnessed by the exhibition of the arms of the little miser flying across the table to secure his card.  Any inanimate object in the path of flight would have surely been damaged, broken, or I am confident, possibly destroyed.  It was that quick.

For the price of a quarter, I know now what I am dealing with:  the raw, unharnessed, power of nature.   I just hate to think what happens if we increase the wager on our golf game .    

Jukebox: It is if you don't like this