Thanks for the help

Saw a truck today with a fire fighter logo but a huge emblem on the back that said proudly "I fight what you fear!". So i had to stop him at the next light and roll down my window and go "How do you kill them!". "What?". "Monsters!".

I KILL me....

So I posted a Happy Birthday message to a coworker, a young innocent coworker who really doesn't deserve my brand of evil.

I put several phrases on his Facebook page in several different languages.....Croation, Czech, Polish, and ended it with "In any language, have a happy birthday".

Nice, right? Except every language when translated said the same thing - "Go blow a goat". Really, when you think about it, if you got that far that you went to translate it, I think you too would even laugh.

Poor Frack,...we hardly knew ye

"Ah, honey? I think this fish is dead". After a goldfish that lasted less than 24 hours in my care, we decided to move on to a more hearty fish, guppies. Prior to that point I heard the word "guppies" and thought one of two things......bait and or pond dweller. That's where I assumed they came from. I thought of guppies as a fish that needed minnows in the world to feel good about themselves. "Sure I'm a guppy,...at least I'm not a minnow".

As it turns out, guppies are pretty nice looking fish and I almost can't see them on the end of a hook to lure a BIGGER fish....ah, to my fishing hook. I bought two guppies (we named them Frick and Frack) for my daughter to see and admire. As all child pet stories end, your's truely ended up doing all the care. Poor Frack, he might have faired better had the 4 year old taken interest.

ANYWHO.......they lasted the day...then more days.......then weeks. It seemed as if I had found my nitch fish, the guppy. I enjoyed seeing them come up to the top to feed. Even if they did feed like finicky toddlers and just nibble a flake or two letting the bulk of it fall to the pebbles below.

So one thing happened that may or may not have contributed to poor Frack's demise. The filter in the tank consists of a square fabric like ...ah, filter...that has charcoal in it and rests on a ledge on top of the tank. A pump below pulls water up and just spills it over the filter to get....filtered (need another word....fancied up??) and sent back below. Well lately the filter has been saturated and not all of it makes it out fancied up. Some of it escapes over a spillover area to the left of the filter.

I don't know if water quality contributed to the demise of Frack or the constant stream of water that came out stronger than from the filter. They seemed to be wary of it and huddled in the corner away from the filter. One day I saw Frack sort of swimming on his side. At that point I thought he'd gone and got the net. But as soon as I touched him....BOOOM, he was off. I don't blame him. If someone showed up to cart me off because I was just asleep.....I would have jumped up too.

This time, Frack clearly was gone. He was floating belly up (hey!! Is that where that phrase came from?). My wife said "He's probably just sleeping". Ah....no. Belly up??

So I get the net and have to make a small current to make him float out from under the filter so I can get him. This all made me wonder how Frick felt, now he has the tank all to himself. He seemed happier..if that's possible. "Thank GOD!! HE's gone.....yak yak yak yak yak......dude never shut up!". We're going to end up getting him some companionship soon. I may have to go to a different pet store soon before they start putting my picture up with a big sign "FISH KILLER".

Yes, I'm a d*ck

SWEAR TO GOD this happened;

"Hello, is Ray there?".
"This is him".
"Oh hello Mr. Cavender,....this is Connor Vern from the DNC".
"What?!? Oh your name is NOT Connor Vern".
"Sorry? Ah..yes...yes it is. It's Scottish".
"Scottish? Sounds like a porn name".
"Okay,..well, we're calling because the Republican smear campaign is in full swing. Operation Code Red. And we're counting on people like you to help fight. Most of our donors are giving upwards of $100, can we count on you?".
"Well...CONNOR Vern....if that IS your name, I'm actually registered as an Independent now..so I'm afraid I'll be giving my money to someone a little more independent minded".

Actually....I don't really give a shit who's running. But a hundred bucks?!?! Please!

SLEEEEEEP

There's a new study out by Professor Chris Idzikowski from the Sleep Assessment and Advisory Service that says how you sleep determines your personality. For example, those who sleep in the fetal position are sensitive but still with a tough exterior. Those who sleep on theri backs are said to be reserved, quiet, and keep high standards for themselves. Alas, the article was incomplete. I guess I'll have to keep wondering about myself as I fall aslseep on the carpet in front of the TV passed out from a sugar high of Coke and Cheerios.

Name this!

Ever hear those radio commercials that invite you to "name a star after somebody"? So...okay, if we go with the premise that this is real, I have one question. Do the astronomers and scientists who actually DEAL with stars and space on a regular basis seriously have to adopt this naming process? Can you imagine an emergency someday at NASA where one astronomer yells something like "LOOK!! A comet!! Heading straight for us!". "Where where!" shouts his buddy. Then the first one goes "Look, in the telescope,...see that bright object in the sky right by Iben Poopen and to the left of Mybalz Itch?".

Keeping me grounded

You CAN, on rare occasions, have a conversation with a 4 year old. I have and felt very rewarded for doing so. We connect, we bond, we share thoughts. Then there are times like today when we are having a conversation and I am handling my end well and the retort I get back from my daughter is "Daddy, poo and tinkle live under ground". Hmmmm....really sweetie, well....Daddy didn't know that. Point well taken. I beleive I shall use this phrase or another gem of hers when I am stuck without an answer at work. "Why wasn't this taken care of yesterday?", and I shall reply "My big girl pants are up my bum-bum". They can't fire you if you're crazy,..really, I looked it up.

Stop in again!

Ever have a pleasant uninvited guest? I guess putting the word "uninvited" has so many negative conotations you probably haven't. Well I did. I had 5 very large guests this evening.

My neighborhood isn't at all different from planned communities you see everywhere. A yard just big enough that mowing it with one of those electric mowers wouldn't make sense. I have a small yard in front and a decent sized area in back and the kicker here is for the story, my yard ends in a very thick wooded area.

After work tonight I decided to do something productive and clean out my car so I left it out on the driveway. Normally I am not productive in the evening and on days like last Friday, I drown my sorrows in a Jack and Coke, or as I like to call it "Pain go bye-bye juice".

So I'm out in my driveway pulling Wendy's rappers and Kleenex (the title of my last album) out of my car when I suddenly hear a leaf crack behind me. I check quickly to make sure my "Sounds Of Nature" CD is out of my car stereo (BTW - if you ever need to grab a couple quick Z's at a stop light - BUY IT!) and I turn around to see three deer not 15 feet away from me in my yard eating my crab apples. I freeze. VERY slowly, I back up against my car and face them resting my butt against the car for support. All of a sudden, three deer turn into five. At this point I am just in total disbeleif at what I'm seeing. There's about three fawns and two adults and one of them is pretty big and eyeing me up flintching at any move I make.

Not like I'd ever have an opportunity to take a picture but it's just KILLING me that I can't take their picture. This is the one time I didn't have my cell phone camera with me. So there I stood, motionless........leaning against my car just watching these peaceful creatures eat the fallen crab apples. It's about then I try to test my psychic abilities to get my wife to look out the window. No dice. What struck me as amazing was these deer, again, not 15 feet away from me just stared at me and looked at the ground too as if to say "Sooooo......we cool?".

This whole event lasted a good ten minutes with the adults bolting first and the younger deer sticking around (kids!...Pfffft!, right?). So I go back in the house, my hands almost shaking from being that close to so many.........the theme from Born Free playing in my head.......then it hits me. Those are the bastards that have been clearing out my bird feed every night!! "I HOPE YOU GET THE SHITS FROM THOSE YOU SEED STEALING ASSHOLES!!!".

A lesson in perspective

Some sounds are good. Some are bad. As I was backing out of my garage this morning I heard one from column B, the bad sound column. Ever hear the sound a balloon makes if you rub against your hand, a sweater, sleeping hobo? That sort of 10 percent good squeaky sound but mostly bad? Well I heard that, and it was not a balloon being rubbed on a hobo it was my car rubbing against the wood trim on the garagae. This was indeed a bad sound.

So with my daughter in the back lost in her 8 billionth viewing of Wall-E there I was in the driveway at the crack of dawn feverishly trying to make the bad bad site go away. First a wet rag to get the white paint off my still not fully ours yet car. Then an old bath sponge. Finally I Got the paint off but could feel (but not fully see due to the small amount of sun around) a scratch, a protruding scratch. Out of frustration and the need to harm something that wasn't me (the REAL culprit) I angrily tossed the bucket of water i brought out against the driveway and it loudly smacked against our garage door. My daughter didn't find this scary, just odd. She is quite the observationalist and knew this wasn't right and she proceeded to tell me that it was "bad to make a mess". Yes sweetie, but the bucket had it coming.

So off we go, her to my in-laws and me to work all the while I'm cursing the big loon that is me. Then I look in my rear view mirror and I see my daughter with her knit hat but the mittens I had just put on her tucked up under the hat. "Sweetie, what are you doing?" I said as she made a sound that appeared to be clucking. "I'm a rooster Daddy! Cluck..cluck!". I know what foolish is now. Foolish isn't a three year old pretending to be a rooster, nope,,.....we NEED that type of nonsense to ground us. Foolish is a 43 year old yutz behaving like a baby in his driveway at 6:50 am on a Monday. Now I know.

Product Warning

Having recently graduated from the fru-fru sissy girl coffee Starbucks pours out to regular coffee I've been searching for that one magic brand that I will stick with until I can no longer pee without assistance and they tell me my heart condition necessitates me going to decaf. It's THEN when I put the pillow over my head.

Until then I am constantly in a search for "my" coffee, the coffee I will swear by, the coffee I will go to a restaurant or someone's house and scream "WHAT?!? You don't have Beany McJava's morning roast?! I am OUTTA here!". I made up the coffee name but you get the point. MY brand....that I will live and die by.

My search has taken me to Dunkin Donuts Cinnamon coffee (a delight!), and Seattle's Best Cinnimon Roll (is this coffee or heaven in a cup?). Both excellent choices but a bit on the pricey side and I have better things to waste mon......WAIT!! Ding Dongs for 99 cents!! Sign me up!!

So I need to find a less trendy brand that will be my staple. I go into Wal Mart before work because that's convenient and the most fun. It's fun because the early morning hours are when they stock the place and I get my jollies out of asking stupid questions to people giving you a look that just screams "just keep walking pal". So the coffee aisle is the same old story, HUGE friggin container of Maxwell House and tiny nine dollar bags of the good stuff. All of a sudden I see Folgers Gourmet Blend and it's flavored. Hold the phone......there's cinnimon!!! It was under five bucks and I think "this is a STEAL!".

The next morning, my wife has it brewing and the kitchen smells GREAT! I start thinking "Did my dream come true? Am I finally going to be able to DRINK a donut?". This is going to be great! Drive in to work giving it enough time to get to a reasonable temperature and start to drink it. MAN!! That is GR...wait, what's this funny after taste. HOLY CRAP!! This is AWFUL. It's this tremenously gratifying cinnimon taste followed by this horrible burnt plastic smell and taste. DAMN YOU FOLGERS!!! To illustrate,...imagine ice cream. Who doesn't like ice cream right? Now imagine eating ice cream out of a used diaper. THAT is what this coffee is like. I was tricked by this suductiveness of cinnimon. This beautiful girl called Folgers showed up and lavished me with compliments and begged for my attention and then we got back to her place and I see she has a penis. THAT is what this coffee did to me!!!! So beware coffee drinkers.......stay clear of cheap trashy coffees!!