Archive for March, 2006

Last Day Shenanigans

Today at ye ol’ work place two of the ladies on the other side of our cubicle prison were talking about how bad someone from upstairs smelled. There was only one person that I thought it could be so I piped up from my cell, “Are you guys talking about
CL?” In unison they replied “YES!”. CL is short for ‘Crazy Lady’, it’s the code we use so we can talk about this lady and have no fear of anyone understanding who or what we are talking about. CL should really be changed to SCL or Scary Crazy Lady. Let me explain. Imagine a 105 year old Chinese woman, y’know the kind that are so wrinkly and dried up they look like a giant hummingbird stuck its beak in their ass and sucked all the nectar out. Add in 104 years of sun basting, a century of smoking, a blonde wig, thin body and fake boobs and you have CL!! Except she’s not Chinese so that part doesn’t make sense. She’s scary. At night the boogeyman checks his closet for her.
To go along with her scariness she has this smell…..stench, well more of a putrid redolence that hangs in the air like a vulture looking for an injured gazelle. Wet cigarettes, dashed with over powering flower perfume, mixed with bacon grease, vomit and elephant poo would be a good start to describing the pugent pollution she emits. I’m not even joking, if I walk into the lunch room and she was there 5 minutes earlier I can smell it!! The worst is when I’m quietly eating my delectable spinach salad with crumbled blue cheese, mango salsa and glazed walnuts and she walks by. I have actually retched and stopped eating until I can waft away the smell of cigarettes and burning hair. The talk of CL’s odor got me all excited on what I would do on my last day on the job.

My coworkers thought I was mean in my idea, but I don’t think so. Here is what others said they’d do:

K (boss) - Would tell off a lady that is constantly telling her how to design flyers, ads and such. This lady needs to be told off, she has ZERO eye for design.

K - Ever since day one she has wanted to rider her bike all through our huge warehouse. Although while talking she realized she
could probably stay late one night and do it without it being her last day. Not a bad idea although I said if the owner happen to catch her, it probably would be her last day.

L - L said she has no beefs against anyone so she’d probably put bubbles in the vent…..heh, that lady sure does love the bubbles.

J - J had the better idea of the bunch. For the last two years she has been fighting with a tempermental printer. On her last day
she said she would like to climb to the top of the building and throw it down onto the railroad tracks right before a big freight train runs it over. Sweet justice.

Me - Me? Well here’s my plan. It seems that CL is usually taking lunch at the same time I do. Ugh… I think on my last day I’ll sit in the lunch room and start sniffing. Then I’ll look all around and start sniffing some more. “oh, pleh, do you smell that?”
Sniff………….Sniff…….”Does anyone else smell that?” At this point I’d get up and walk about the lunch room. “Man, it smells like dead rats mixed with tar!” Sniff Sniff. I’d keep sniffing nad come right up to CL and then turn to her, “OH!!! It’s YOU!


Before this I’d have a care package made up with little soaps and shampoos, maybe a little lotion and de-wrinkler and I’d put it in her mailbox with a note: “Get a freakin’ clue!”

Yeeeup, I think that’s what I’d do on my last day.

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On the way to work each morning I pass by a furniture store that has a digital billboard. Being a furniture store it seems like the billboard is always flashing brightly one of two things. Either a “going out of business” sale, or a “grand opening” sale. Why is it that furniture stores only have sales during grand openings and going out of business times? Has it ever occured to them that maybe that’s why they’re constantly going out of business because they don’t have sales at any other times? And how often can a furniture store go out of business? Seems like every few months they’re going out of business. It must be hard times for furniture makers everywhere….people already have a place to sit! I’d like to see a furniture store have a “we’re doing just fine” sale. But I digress…

I always check the clock on the billboard as I sit in my car at the stop light. I use it as a gauge to see if I’m going to be late when I roll into work. If the sign reads 7:26 or later, I’m screwed, but earlier than that I will be on time and sometimes I’m even early! Today I felt like I was running a little late so I was eager to see how much I could save on a solid oak armoire and also what time it was. As I looked up at the bright blinking billboard it read: 7:70.

Damn. I’m late.

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Drawing a Blank

I went over to Phil’s last night for a little booze, food and games. There was about 12 people there, most of whom I did not know. Even still I think everyone had a great time eating, drinking and yukin’ it up. The plan for the night was to eat pizza and drink beer and then play balderdash or some sort of board game. As the night wore on it looked like we were never going to play any games since everyone was having such a good time talking as one big group. I was silently happy because I really didn’t want to play Balderdash. Yes, I know its a fun game and everyone I know seems to love it, but I feel like I can’t think of funny things fast enough. This may stem from the fact, that the last time I played it I was around 12 years old, at that age your creative thinking is limited compared to adults. Phil was trying to convince that I was funny and it would be fun, I wasn’t so sure.

After two hours of talking in one huge group, everyone started to split up. The guys gravitated towards the projector and video games, and the girls gravitated towards shoes. After awhile Phil and I found ourselves in the same room as most of the girls (not a bad place to be) and like a greasy salesman selling snake oil, Phil was still pushing for Balderdash. Finally we all decided we should play. Now, I don’t know if the game has changed over the years but I swear the last time I played it, all you did was make up fake definitions to words. I could be totally wrong on this (it’s been over 10 years) but this semingly new fangled version has you makeing up definitions, making up things for a name, making up things that happened on a certain date, giving one a sentence synopis of movie titles, and making up words for acronyms. The first one we got was a date and I was able to think of something clever. But the 2nd round was the acronym C.A.T. and I don’t know if it was the booze or pizza clogging my system but I drew a complete blank. For some stupid reason I could not think of a ‘C’ or ‘A’ word!! RETARDED! Everyone was done and all eyes were on me which caused my hand to shake and my brow to perspire. Finally I wrote something down and slid it across the table to Ann. I was nervous b/c it was soo soo sooooo stupid I thought they’d all kick me out of the game. Ann opened up the piece of paper and started freaking out laughing. You’re supposed to read all the entries with the same composure so as to not give away fake vs. real answers but Ann was a basket case. Finally she pulled herself together and read mine: Corn All Together. To my delight everyone erupted in laughter but only because it was terribly dumb. Sure, now I can think of a bunch: Corn Against Tractors, Chicago Association of Transvestites…etc. But last night that was the best I could do. For the rest of the night Ann kept chuckling to herself about that one, that’s good I think. As the game wore on more people joined the fray. That made it much more interesting and I seeemed to have better creative flow. One of the better acronyms was G.G.A. which landed:

Gay Ganstas of America
Good Girls Association
Gay Guys of America
Girl with Gonorrhea Association

I’ll admit it turned out to be a riotous good time and I learned something as well. Stevie Wonder’s real name is: Stevelandjudkins Morris
(according to the Balderdash card).

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Top Gunnery

A few years back when I was employed at Christenson Electric it seemed that all of my fellow co-workers were of the good ol’ boy, redneck variety. If any of them had lived farther south than Salem (Oregon) they would’ve been waving confederate flags with tattoos on their forearms saying, “the south will rise again!”. As it was there was nothing they enjoyed more than cussing, chewing (and spitting) tobaccy, screwing women and shooting guns. I never took part in the first three but I loved shooting things.

So one dreary Saturday all of the rednecks Bob, Tim, Bob, Sheldon, Dave and me and Jake loaded up our cars with guns (not women, sadly) and headed towards the backwoods of Oregon City. We had all of the calibers of ammo and guns on our three-car armory on wheels. 9mm, 22, 45, 357magnum, 38special, 12gauge, 20gauge all to be fired through, Smith and Wesson, Ruger, H & K, Sig Sauer, Winchester, Glock, Mossberg…you get the idea, if a cop would’ve stopped us and asked, “can I search the vehicle” he would’ve pooped his pants.

When we arrived at our shooting location we went to the top of a hill where there was clearing. The first thing we did was bust out the shotguns for a little clay pigeon and 76-year old lawyer shooting (ZZZIIING Cheney!). I love shooting clay pigeons. I think everyone should try it at least once in their life. There’s nothing cooler than seeing that small, bright orange disc sail through the air and then shatter into 43 pieces when you blast it with your 12 gauge. Plus who can deny the extremely cool feeling you get cocking the slide “SHUCK SHUCK” after each shot fired. After a while we went back down the hill where we set up a firing line to shoot the many handguns we brought. It was alot of fun to test out a wide range of guns and take out our aggresion on innocent beer cans and sheet metal. Tim had a .45 calibar Sig Sauer that looked and felt like any 9mm but once you saw the size of the holes this thing made, you knew it was no piddly 9mm. The day was going great, Jake and I were having a goodtime shooting up the hillside and bonding with the rednecks. Jake asked Sheldon if he could try out his 9mm. Sheldon complied and told him that the first “pull” on the trigger would be really hard since the hammer has to be pulled back, but each successive pull would be easy since the hammer behind the slide will already be cocked. Jake nodded and stepped forwad to blowa coke can to oblivion. All of the rednecks, myself included, were behind Jake loading up clips and chewing tobacco. Jake squeezed the trigger, successfully firing one round into the muddy hillside. He stood there for a moment, then turned turn his head and torso and asked, “Now what am I suppo….” BANG!! In that exact moment a shot rang out sending a crisp echo through the surrounding hillside. Simultaneously we all jumped. The shot came from the gun Jake was holding sending a round of hot lead intothe ground just inches from his foot. As he turned to ask a question about the gun he let his hand drop about 45 degrees causing his finger to rest on the trigger. What he didn’t realize was that after the first shot the gun would have a hairpin trigger, causing it to fire with the slightest pressure. Needless to say Jake didn’t feel like shooting guns much after that. Sheldon was beating himself up over it left and right since it was his gun. I’ll admit it was a little freaky then, but now I just LMAO thinking about it.

Its fresh on my brain today because last night on a whim Karin decided she wanted to go to Red Robin. I obliged and as we sat down at a table I turned to my right to help sing happy birthday to the cutest little 8 year old girl. As I looked up at the smiling father my mouth hit the floor it was Sheldon! I hadn’t seen him in 7-8 years. I himmmed and haughed as to whether or not I should say anything because we all know how annoying it is to bump into an old aquaintence, talk for 5 minutes and then have nothing to say. I bit the bullet (no pun intended!) and finally yelled out his name since he was never really a redneck at all and he was one of the nicer people at my old work place. We had a good convo and exchanged numbers. He needs some computer work done and I think it’d be fun to go shooting with someone that won’t blow their foot off. Sheldon still feels bad about the whole Jake almost-becoming-a-cripple incident. It’s funny how life works isn’t it? What are the chances that we’d both pick the same place to eat and let alone be sat right next to eachother! Just crazy. Not too get all sappy at the end of my blog but isn’t it crazy? Especially this last year I have regained contact with a bunch of people I thought I’d never talk to again. But here I am re-forging old friendships. huh.

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Too many e’s

Y’know I really don’t understand the brains we have inside our heads. The other night I dreamt about the craziest thing. I was on a train but still working at my job. I was trying to access a non-work related website but it wasn’t going anywhere. Just then my telephone rang and it was one of the big wigs from upstairs, although I was on a train so there was no upstairs. He was in a meeting with all the other big wigs and I was on speakerphone. They were monitoring my web surfing and he said the reason I couldn’t access the page was because there were too many “e’s” in the address and they were having trouble with sites that had the letter ‘e’ in the address. I was trying to access Billy’s site eyepits but in the dream I was spelling it Other than that he wasn’t mad that I was goofing off when I should’ve been working. I thanked him and he hung up.

WTF is up with that?! Having trouble with the e’s? The silly thing was in the dream that’s actually how you got to Billy’s site, with all those e’s.

I’m not sure why my brain would waste anytime on this. It’s frustrating really, I’d rather be dreaming about pretty girls or slam dunking a basketball while eating some mashed ‘taters, or building a go-kart with a Neo-Geo on the back, or being “Mike-e” Mouse (the black sheep of the Mouse family), or wacking little fat kids with swords……anything else really.

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It happened again. Last night my sis went number 3. It seems she didn’t have enough fun the first go around so she went again.
Fortunately for everyone involved this birthing didn’t seem to be as traumatic as the first. According to everyone that was there it was slightly comical. During the pushing and heave-hoes rather than moaning or grunting Megan was actually saying “ow, ow, ow”. During the ouchiest part she said to her husband “John, I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to do this!” Hmm… maybe she should’ve thought of that 9 months ago! Ha! As if she was expecting the doctor to say “Well, ok why don’t we just stop for now, you had some good pushes tonight, but I’m going to go ahead and gently push the baby back in and we’ll try again tomorrow. In the meantime me and a couple of the nurses were thinking about getting some burritos…..would you like anything?” Too funny. I didn’t get to see any of the comedy first-hand because luckily for me I left before the placenta hit the fan.

Megan got through it all and sometime last night Mikayla (sp?) Marie Weaver was born at 6lbs…so many ounces and 21 inches (I think). Mikayla Marie is a nice name but I’ll call her by her nickname Double-M Double-U.

Grandma and baby

And just so she doesn’t feel left out here’s a crazy cute pic I found of my 1st niece on my phone.

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A little Wisdom

“He who does not love wine, women, and song
Remains a fool his whole life long.” –MLK

Not a truer word spoken, or my personal fave:

“I spent 90% of my money on women and wine,
The rest I wasted.”

Not too much to report here. I had a good weekend. Friday was one of the best Friday’s a guy could ask for. While at work, I
hardly did any! We spent a fair chunk of the morning talking about everything one could imagine. The day zoomed by and before
I knew it I was at Jake’s house kicking my feet up sipping whisky. Jake’s mom was staying the night and so I got a good chance
to talk to her. I’ve never talked to her very much, but on Friday I realized she has a great sense of humor. What’s even better
than that is egging her on when it comes to Jake. Jake left the room to tuck in the kids and while he was gone his mom started
snooping through all sorts of papers he had on the desk and stacked up on the floor and in the garbage can. She was freaking out
because most of it was credit card applications and bills and things with his name and account numbers all over it. She thought
he was just going to throw it away so when he came back in the room she laid into him.

Her: Jake you got all this stuff here you shouldn’t throw it away.

Me: Yeah Jake.

Jake: I know ma.

Her: This is important stuff you should shred it.

Me: Yeah Jake, you should shred it.

Jake: (annoyed) I know ma!

Her: If someone got ahold of this it could be real dangerous!

Me: Yeah Jake, your identity could get stolen!

Jake: (Loudly) I know MA! Wouldja….wouldja put that down! That’s what its there for, to shred!

Her: But what about this stack over here, some of it isn’t even open!

Me: yeah jake are you going to shred that too?

Jake: (at his boiling point) Wouldja….get out outta there! put that down! etc…etc.

I like seeing my 28 yr. old friend reduced to a 16 yr. old still living at home. Other than that we watched Jarhead and drank
super yummy whisky. We got decently soused so I decided not to drive home. Although I wish I would’ve driven home. Jake set me
up in the coldest room with the hardest futon! To top it off in his drunken stupor he ‘tucked’ me in which involved
him punching me in the gut, mooning me and giving me the beating chicken heart.
I could’ve done without all three.

It was so cold I wore all my clothes, my jacket and a huge comforter on top, and it still wasn’t enough. I got all of 4 hours of
restless sleep. So early in the morning I packed up my things to leave, but not before going up stairs at 7am and pouncing on
Jake and giving him the ol’ Nowack Nudge. I figured it was a little payback for his tucking in shenanigans. He was so out of it
all he could muster was a deathly low “stooooooooooooopppp” but he put up no fight and let me continue.

Once I got home I crashed until about noon o’ clock. Later I went over to Dave’s house and we contemplated the pong while listening
to Mozart’s Requiem. It was all fine with me since I was whooping his ASS all up and down the miniature tennis court. (admit it dave)
Afterwards we found ourselves planted on the couch sipping some super smooth Woodford Reserve and listening to Norah Jones.
That last part is probably the gayest thing I’ve done in the last 3 years, but it was relaxing.

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……and in other news

I am writing this from my brand spankin’ new computer! It’s a blazing specimen of a machine… least for this week. Next week it’ll be “so 5 minutes ago”. Nevertheless, I am happy and joyful and most of all happy. To build the computer Phil and I
headed over to Dave’s house. My thought was that we’ve all done it so many times, we’d be able to get it done 3x as fast as just
one of us doing it alone, plus Dave has a ping pong table so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to take advantage of that
(the ping pong table, not Dave). In reality what happened was a case of too many cooks in the kitchen, or in this instance too
many geeks in the living room. We had the parts together in record time but once we flipped the switch nothing came on the screen. All the fans whirred but that was about it except for the burny smell. This concerned me b/c computers aren’t supposed to burn they leave that up to the steaks. We turned the computer off and after intense sniffing and looking we realized that the left side of the momboard was making contact with the case. This is a bad thing. After installing the little posts underneath
the motherboard to lift it off of the case we tried it again….still nothing. At this point there was a lot of finger pointing
and name calling which I find is unecessary to sully this site with the details of. We were pretty sure we had cooked the motherboard so we packaged it back up to take back.

Which by the way reminds me, if you ever need to build a computer or need a specific computer part, go to ENU.
They’ve been around for years and have the best return policy. I brought the motherboard back told them it didn’t work and without batting an eye or asking any questions like, “it smells like burning” they gave me a brand new one. We went home slapped in the new piece, connected everything up and we just about to hit the switch when Dave says, “ooooohhhhh. I think I know why the other mobo didn’t work.” He lifts his hand up and shows us this curious little plug. It was the power source for the CPU. Apparently, on these new fangled motherboards there is two power sources, one major one that you plug into the motherboard and one small one that plugs in directly to the CPU. Once again there was a barrage of finger pointing and name calling, but that quickly ended as we hit the power switch and the machine came on! WEeeeeee!

After that it was smooooth sailing. Windows installed lightening fast, I discovered there is a built in firewall on my motherboard,
we played a ton of ping pong and afterwards we all went out for steak, b/c we knew if we made it at home, we’d just end up burning it.

A picture for your enjoyment. He’s not even posing, this is how he looks everyday.

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Friday Night is alright for a pillow fight

It was awesome, truly cool. If you missed it I’m sorry, but it’s totally your loss. There’s alot I could say about it but really
I think the pictures and videos speak for themselves. Phil did come, but only to take pictures. Dave came and acted like he was going to wuss out but once the feathers started flying he dove in the middle of the mayhem! It was grand grand. What a night!

It was snowing after the first few minutes

With so many feathers around they got caught in everything, eyes, mouth it was fun.

I love this last pic, it was totally an accident on phil’s part but it looks way cool, it’s big so
hit the link.

And best of all there is some cool video to share, the first one shows all the mayhem right after it first starts…it’s awesome.

Complete Chaos.

The final vid is of me beating on Dave after my pillow how been completely de-featherized. Good stuff, although the camera looks down b/c Phil thought he was taking a picture, but instead he was taking video of his shoes :)

Dave getting the thrashing of a lifetime.

As you can see and hopefully undestand the pillow fight was soooooo much fun, a beautiful display of organized chaos. We were all wondering what the signal was going to be to start that’s when some guy in the middle of the square yelled out “WOOOOHOOOO” on cue all the other 300+ people responded with a boisterous “WOOOOOHOOOOO” after that the guy tooted his airhorn and it was on. After about three rounds or 9 minutes of pummeling and being pummeled we were exhausted, it’s hard to go all out for that long. I suggest anyone thinking about going next to stop thinking and just go, you’ll love it. Where else can you beat on random people without getting arrested?!

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Dork. Me.

Slaving away at work I was showing Kelly how I could magnify everything with my glasses. It was pretty cool from my perspective but I couldn’t understand why she was laughing so hard at me. That’s when she took this picture:

If I was a part of Billy’s Site I’d have huge eye pits…..even though I don’t know what that means.

Which reminds me why I hate wearing my glasses, they magnify my eyes, making it look like my eyes are bigger than they actually are. Seems silly, but I don’t like it.

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