Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Stigma Of Community Service

I dunno.

When I was younger community service didn't mean what it seems to mean in today's world. It once seemed like a noble and good thing to do. But now, not so much, at least in one degree.

(Just a disclaimer of sorts, serving your community is a good thing.)

Now when I hear of, or see someone performing community service, I wonder what illegal activities occurred for them to be performing community service. What heinous crime did this person commit to get sentenced to community service? Is this the first time? Is this dude who's helping me find a book at the library serving part of his sentence doing community service for armed robbery? Is he now eying my ass because it's cute, or just scoping out the bulge......

my wallet is creating in my pants?

(I know at least one of you wondered what bulge I was talking about for a second there. It's okay, I welcome perverts here as well. Ah shit, that'll be a word for the search engines, won't it?)

Anyway, that's my random thought for the day. Aren't you glad I shared it with you?


Do you have time for another random thought?

Good news for Catholics in a small church in Wisconsin. Their Priest stands accused of simply stealing church funds. Much better crime, and more socially acceptable, than sexually abusing little boys in my opinion.

Always a silver lining folks.

And as alluded to in the last post I expect to be offline fairly early today. I know, I know, I'll be as sorely missed as a fat kid at a birthday party who samples the frosting on the cake several times, and licks his fingers between sampling.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I May Be Here, Or I May Not

I just discovered the blogger feature that allows scheduling of future posts in less than three weeks of blogging here. Less. Than. Three. Weeks. People. Wow, huh?

(Yeah, I'm quick like that, don't hate my brilliance.)

And this post is a result of this knowledge.

As some of you know there was a little snafu at the homestead here recently. For those who don't, and have a few minutes of their life to waste, you can go here to get up to speed on it.

So I may be offline today. (Well not today for me. Today is actually yesterday for me. But today for you.)

But I wanted to leave some words in here for you to see. Even if it's a craptacular post as this. I'm thoughtful like that, and stuff.

If I'm offline I'll spend time catching up with all your doings tomorrow, or Friday. Because with my luck, Thursday may come and things won't be completed here by then either.

And there will be a post tomorrow regardless, this scheduling posts for future reading is a hoot, or something.


Tuesday, September 28, 2010

You Got It Wrong Albert, You Are A Slave

Albert Haynesworth is a professional football player for the Washington Redskins, and a slave.

Yes, I'm calling this black man a slave.

A slave of ignorance and self entitlement.

A little background here. Albert signed a contract to play football for the Redskins in 2009. It's a contract for a seven year period to the tune of $100 million dollars. To date he's been paid approximately $32 million dollars.

(As an aside, the point of this post isn't about the dollar amount he's being paid. More power to him for getting this dollar amount out of a stupid owner of this team. He's damn lucky I'm not the owner, nor am I a fawning fan of professional athletes, or any type of celebrity for that matter. But that's a different slant/topic for perhaps another day.)

So what does Albert do with this generous contract? He skips work, as in mandatory workouts. He showed up for training camp fat and out of shape. And now that the season has started, his play isn't worthy of minimum pay. He apparently can't understand why the Redskins are upset with him. He's upset that new "management", as in a new coach, has installed a new defensive scheme. One he doesn't like, nor wants to participate in.

He did a radio interview last Friday and here's what he said:

“I guess in this world we don’t have a lot of people with, like, backbones,” Haynesworth said. “Just because somebody pay you money don’t mean they’ll make you do whatever they want or whatever. I mean, does that mean everything is for sale?

“I mean, I’m not for sale. Yeah, I signed the contract and got paid a lot of money, but … that don’t mean I’m for sale or a slave or whatever.”
And no, grammar isn't his strong suit.
What Albert fails to realize is that he's paid to do a job and regardless of the amount of money involved, to the best of his ability. The Redskins are an enterprise just like many others who change management and directions to achieve success and profitability. This is a common practice in the real world of employment Albert. Management dictates the direction the company is going, employees work to achieve that.
And yes Albert, many companies make mistakes in the direction taken. But it's their company, and their money at stake, not yours. And you do have options Albert, just like any other employee who isn't happy with their job. No one is forcing you to do something you find repugnant. Unlike a true slave, you can quit. Actually Albert you have already quit, you just haven't left the company, so to speak.
Seriously Albert, as a $100 million dollar wage earner, you feel you're a slave? Just because you're asked to perform your job the way management wants, rather than the way you want? Welcome to the real world Albert. Every job I've had is one I liked over all. Every job involved doing a few things I didn't care for as well. 
That's life Albert. I'd suggest using a slice of your contract money to get an education. Then perhaps some day you'll be able to break the bond of slavery you inhabit. That being a slave to ignorance and self entitlement. Putting it simply Albert, get a effin clue.

Monday, September 27, 2010

They Say The First Step Is Admitting To The Problem

I'm lazy.

There, I said it.

It's actually served me well.

Now your definition of lazy may differ dramatically from mine. I prefer to define mine as "the appreciation of much needed, and well deserved, down time." I adhere to this thought process, nay life style, wholeheartedly and vigorously. I'm quite ambitious in this pursuit of lazytude.

And what has this gained me?

A lack of appreciation and acceptance of my brand of laziness from family, friends, and co-workers. They refuse to even acknowledge that I'm lazy, despite my protests and irrefutable evidence to the contrary. This is an affront to my character and integrity.

So now I'm having to rethink this whole laziness lifestyle. I've allowed an inkling of doubt to creep into my thoughts. And it's maddening. What if they're right?

I like doing my own thing, or several things, and work interferes with that. I want to lounge around. I want to fish or golf all day. I want to read a book in its entirety in one sitting. I want to just simply stare off into space. I want to watch paint dry, or grass grow, so to speak. I want to take a nap when I'm tired. Work always gets in the way. I can't ignore this.

While I freely admit to being lazy my mind refuses to let me procrastinate. If there's something that needs done I can't be lazy. And so I do the work, all in the pursuit of the maximum amount of lazy time possible. You can't half-ass this process if you're truly lazy. You're only fooling yourself if you do, but not me buster. Performing a necessary chore lazily just cuts into true "lazy time." If that's the way you approach this, at least in my mind, you're not taking advantage of real, and satisfying, lazy time.

Hopefully I've inspired at least one person today to embrace this true definition of lazy. Anyone else who claims to be lazy, without approaching laziness in the same manner as I do, is simply a fraud. Don't be taken in by them. I know and live the true path to pure, and perhaps guilt free, laziness.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Doesn't Everyone Want An Indoor Pool?

Yesterday pretty much sucked. I'm counting on the "suckage" to continue through about Tuesday Wednesday Thursday.

I know most people would be pleasantly surprised to wake up on a Friday morning to an indoor pool. But in this case, not me.

My hot water heater died yesterday. If it had just simply expired quietly I would have been much happier. But no, it had to burst in its death throes.

While some people would have thought there was some measure of luck in actually being home when this occurred, there really wasn't much advantage to that. I quickly found the shut off valve and shut down the water flow immediately. Or so I thought.

But no, said valve was broken, and the water gushed and flowed gleefully from one room to the next, and the next, and the..... You get the picture.

So then I burst into the hall of the apartment building, looking very fashionable in boxers and a ratty t-shirt, to hunt down another shut off valve. For you see I know they're located above the ceiling tiles in the hallway. I think I shut down about 6 valves before finding the one that actually leads to my apartment. Silly me,  for thinking the nearest one ran to my apartment, that would make too much sense. So 3/4 of the building was without water for awhile.

(As you can imagine, I was a hit with the other tenants yesterday.)

So Service Master was summoned and clean up has commenced. While my apartment is rather spacious, the addition of three industrial size humidifiers and six hurricane fans have shrunk the place. And yes, I have hurricane force winds circulating through the place.

On a positive note, all carpeting and flooring is going to be replaced due to this untimely death of the hot water heater.

On a negative note, all carpeting and flooring is going to be replaced due to this untimely death of the hot water heater.

This means much packing and shifting of crap in my place over the next few days. And I've got to work in going to work as well.

Isn't life grand?

Friday, September 24, 2010

A Conversation With The Worthless Co-Worker

A day spent working with the Worthless Co-Worker can range from mildly amusing to damn irritating. Here's a short snippet of yesterday's conversation I had with her.

(While this isn't "word for word", it's pretty damn close.)

Worthless Co-Worker: I'm breaking up with my boyfriend.
Me: How, exactly, does one break up with someone they've never met?
Worthless Co-Worker: Why do you always say things like that?
Me: Because it's true?
Worthless Co-Worker: I don't care what anyone says, we're a real couple with a real spiritual connection and love.
Me: So Face booking, texting, instant messaging, and emailing a dude you've never met, who's supposedly stationed in Guam, makes for a real relationship? Do you even know where Guam is?
Worthless Co-Worker: Yes I do, and he's really there. So don't start telling me he isn't.
Me: Alicia, I really have no clue, nor care, where this guy is located......
Wait a minute.....
How does someone simply break up with someone they're "spiritually" married to? Wasn't it just a couple of months ago that the two of you somehow "spiritually" tied the knot through a weird ass email?
Worthless Co-Worker: We did. And I don't care what you think. We are "spiritually" married.
Me: So now that it's over is there some formal "spiritual" divorce court proceeding that needs to take place? Married people can't simply break up. Even this make believe marriage needs a court sanctioned dissolution I'd imagine. If I were you I'd simply get it annulled, since the marriage wasn't consummated.
Worthless Co-Worker: You just don't understand and are not a spiritual person.
Me: Don't forget, I don't believe in voodoo either. I do have a serious question for you though.
Worthless Co-Worker: What?
Me: After this "spiritual" wedding ceremony you didn't adopt any of the four kids he has did you?
Worthless Co-Worker: How many times do I have to tell you that only one of those kids are his. He told me his ex-wife cheated on him and three of them aren't his.
Me: Alicia, remember the time you directed me to his Face book page? And there, in all it's glory, was a picture of him surrounded by four children?
Worthless Co-Worker: Yes, and so what?
Me: All four of those kids in that picture look exactly like him. Not just simply a close resemblance Alicia. They are mini-carbon copies of him. If he were to go to court to deny fathering them the judge would laugh at him. This is one case where DNA tests would be a waste of time, it's that evident he's the father.
Worthless Co-Worker: I don't even know why I talk to you!
Me: That makes two of us, but answer the question. Did you adopt any of them? I'd hate to see you on the hook for any type of make believe "spiritual" child support.
Worthless Co-Worker: I'm not listening to you any more.
Me: That's nothing new.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

An Open Letter To Senate Republicans (for the most part)

Dear Republican Senators,

I see that you've blocked legislation that would have repealed the law banning gays from serving openly in the military. Frankly, that's no surprise here. But I have questions, and issues, on your stance against this segment of the population in general.

I'll be right up front in stating that I share your bewilderment of homosexuality. I can't comprehend it myself. I feel no attraction to other men. Now women, oh yeah, there's plenty of attraction there. But this is the only thing we have in common, or share if you will. But just because I don't understand it, doesn't mean I'm going to pass prejudicial legislation because I don't like it, or approve it, nor understand it.

See, I try to be a fair guy. These folks are US citizens who pay their taxes, support themselves and family just like you and me. Many of them make wonderful contributions to society in the form of charity work, or charitable contributions.

I know, I know, it's all about the fact that you see this as a sin. You're basing your thoughts and actions on this fact. (At least you feel this is a fact.) You're hiding behind religion because this is an issue that disgusts you. And hey, it's alright to be disgusted by it. That's a right you have in a free country. But I know we protect religious freedom in this country. Let me tell you something, there are a lot of nutbag religions out there that actually disgust me. But again, they're protected by the Constitution, and that's part of what makes our country great.

But getting to the crux of what bothers me is basing legislation on sin. You're not playing fair here. If you want to base legislation on sin let's go the whole route, not cherry pick what simply disgusts you. To pass prejudicial laws preventing a segment of our population from enjoying the same rights as other Americans is un-American.

Whether it's serving in the military, marriage rights, adoption rights, etc you don't play nice. Just think of the 10 commandments. If you're going to base legislation on sin how weak would our military all of a sudden be if sinners couldn't serve? How many marriages could honestly be sanctioned if a sinner couldn't get, or stayed married? How many of you hypocrites could actually be married? How many children would languish in need of adoption if a sinner couldn't adopt them?

Where is the legislation banning the marriage right to murderers? How about pedophiles? How about adulterers? Thieves? You get the picture.

I'd like to see you justify this. I'll patiently await your answer.

Respectively waiting,
Just Plain Tired

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

So I'm A Full Time, Once Or Twice A Week Babysitter

So I'm a grandparent now.

(And no, not a recent one, so congratulations are not in order.)

I'm just in the beginning of the grandparenthood stage with just one grandchild so far. But I've got to tell you I'm enjoying it far more than I thought was possible. This little life form is now 20 months old and I can't imagine life without her being around.

This kid is perfect, I shit you not. Oh my son and daughter-in-law may not quite go that far and will tell me that she can be fussy, mad, hates naps, etc.... but I have yet to witness any of this. Seriously. And as someone who's around her quite a bit I should. It's not that I don't believe them, after all I have two kids myself, and they weren't perfect. Pretty easy to raise over all, but not perfect.

Both my son and daughter-in-law work full time and have had a lot of trouble finding dependable and affordable daycare. So I stepped up to the plate and volunteered to watch her on my days off, which amounts to about 6 days a month where it works out that I'm off when they're working.

Below is a list of of activities we do that will display the awesomeness of this child during the 9-10 hours she's in my care:

1) I usually have to feed her two meals a day when I'm watching her. While the parents bemoan the fact that she won't always eat well for them I can honestly say this is a non-issue for me. She eats everything I throw in front of her. So what if there's always ice cream involved. Naturally the parents haven't been let in on this little secret. (And no, before any righteous parent decides this is terrible, not just ice cream, we do the healthy type of food, but this kid knows Gramps, or as she calls me, "Pa Pa", is gonna give her ice cream if she eats well.)

2) We play, and play, then play some more. And the best part? She's brought out my inner child. (And we make a huge mess, and it's great. After all, this babysitting gig occurs at their place, not mine. There's no clean up or picking up involved for me.)

3) And naps? Not a problem. This kid naps for an average of 2 hours for me. Every. Single. Time. At first this made me nervous, just based on what the parents told me with their troubles in this area. I'd check the crib every 10 minutes to make sure this kid was breathing and alive when she was napping for me. (After all, it wouldn't look very good on the babysitting resume if the kid died while napping in my care.)

4) This kid knows how I feel about poopy diapers. I can tell her she should wait for mommy or daddy to get home before doing this. And for some reason it works with far more success than I dreamed possible. Hell, I've even initiated the potty training sequence with some degree of success. But in listening to the parents my "some" degree is better than their efforts so far. (I actually think this irritates the daughter-in-law though. Not the "some" degree of success part. She just doesn't think potty training should have been started yet. But hey, I think that if a kid can come up to you, point at their diaper, and say they've peed, or pooped, it's time to potty train.

5) She listens to me and there's few bad behavior episodes. (Almost didn't list this one because I think it's normal for a kid to behave better for almost anyone else than a parent.)

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture, and you're either bored enough already, or extremely jealous of the mad skills I possess as a babysitter. My point is she's an awesome addition in my life.

Monday, September 20, 2010

So I Can Count

Honestly, having the ability to count past ten, without removing my shoes to do so, has turned into a huge employment disadvantage to me.

It takes a scheduled day off and turns it into a day of work, albeit a short day.

We are required to do an inventory twice a year. Another requirement is that said inventory process start at 6:00 a-effin-m in the morning. This ensures said inventory is completed prior to the store opening of 10:00 am.

Of course I'm scheduled off today, and as you've probably already guessed, today was inventory day.

There are two things which are annoying about inventory. One being the start time of 6:00 a-effin-m. We open at 10:00 am and inventory takes all of 45 minutes, and that's at a leisurely pace. I'm getting up at 5:00 a-double-effin-m to do this. My total drive time is equal to the amount of time spent counting shit. We could start this process two hours later, or more, and still have ample time to complete this before store opening.

The other annoying thing has to do with worthless co-worker who never, ever, has to be involved in this process. When I asked the boss why he never has her help him with inventory his reply was "You know Alicia cannot count past ten without removing her shoes and relying on her toes to get to twenty. Hell, if she lost a finger she'd never accomplish counting to ten again. Plus, she has trouble in getting to work on time as it is, do you honestly think she could get here at 6:00 am?"

My reply, "Why is she still employed here then?

His reply... was nothing, just a deer in the headlights look back at me.

Whoever came up with the saying "Silence is Golden" is certainly no friend of mine today.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

An Open Letter To Randy Quaid

Dear Randy,

It is with a heavy heart that I find myself writing to you today. After perusing the news this morning I see that you and your lovely wife were once again arrested on Saturday. And yes, your wife is indeed lovely, in a Roseanne Barr sort of way.

But seriously Randy, when you sell a property to someone else, you can't move back into it several years after the sale and claim it's yours when the police show up. That's just not how it works. (It's also not a great idea to destroy the property to the tune of $5000 and burglarize it either. It just makes that claim of yours "that you own the property" much less believable.)

Now you add this latest stunt to the list of transgressions over the past couple of years. Ripping off hotels and credit card fraud weren't enough trouble for you?

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

And yes Randy, you were once mighty. I can recall, with tons of satisfaction and pride the transformation you made in the movie "Independence Day." You went from lovable, bumbling drunk to savior of the world! You sacrificed your life to save us.

And now look at you. Apparently you're homeless, which presents another problem for me to deal with Randy. How can I send this letter to someone who's homeless? I assume you made bail so sending the letter to the jail you were held briefly seems fruitless. I dunno. Maybe a friend or relative will see this though and pass on the gist of the letter to you. I'd actually be pretty stoked if your brother Dennis were to came across this and pass on the disappointment I have in you right now.

(I'd be even more stoked though if your former sister-in-law, Meg Ryan, were to actually see this and pass it on to you. I don't see that happening though. I'm sure she's not a huge fan of any Quaid right now. But one can hope, can't they?)

In closing, I at least hope this letter finds you in good health. While it would be a shame to see "the savior of the world" imprisoned, if that were to actually happen after this latest stunt of yours, at least you'd have a permanent residence to send a letter to. That in itself provides me with some semblance of solace Randy.

Take care Randy.

(Oh, and if you do end up with some prison time I've heard its best not to sleep on your stomach in prison. I don't want to hear how "the savior of the world" had to suffer any more... um... indignities, so to speak, in the future.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Just Some Advice For The Young Bucks Out There

Okay you finally got that first date lined up with the girl of your dreams, or at least your current dreams. (And as a father I know exactly what you're dreaming about.)

Now it's time to meet the parents before said such first date. You're probably nervous, and you should be. As a matter of fact you should be "shitting your pants" nervous. But you're probably not bright enough to be quite that nervous.

Meeting the mom isn't usually a big deal. It's dad you have to worry about, because you're about to take "Daddy's Little Girl" out. He hasn't even met you yet but you're the Anti-Christ. You are a loathsome creature only worthy of contempt and mistrust. (And trust me, even if he seems polite, or actually nice to you, you're still a piss ant in his mind.)

Disclaimer: If it's a single parent involved, and it's the mother, I know of several who admirably fill the "dad" role in this situation. Get scared... 'nuff said.

As a father I know you're going to try to make a good impression, if only to please the girl. So you're going to play nice the first time you meet the parents, even if you're not a nice guy. (And don't think for a minute we think you're a nice guy. It's not a fair playing field here and you're not assumed to be nice from the get-go.)

But I am going to actually give you good advice based on personal experience. Just bear with me a moment as I set the stage. For you see I was once in your exact predicament. The father I encountered was polite and seemed nice. These are the guys you have to be the most scared of and on the lookout for.

So I met the parents. They asked what we going to do and were told a movie and pizza. So far, so good, and most importantly no lies. So out the door we go and I'm still alive and feeling pretty good about how the "meet the parents" went. Boy was I in for a surprise.

For you see the girl's father fell into the polite and seemingly nice category. Nothing in my young life had me prepared to match the cunning of this type of guy.

The town we lived in had a theater which showed 3 movies. As we had yet to decide on which movie to watch I asked the girl which movie she'd like to see. (At this point I was like a passenger on the Titanic just mere hours before hitting the iceberg, blissfully asleep before pending doom.)

But asked I did, and of course she knew just the movie she wanted to see. Daddy had seen a preview of one of the movies showing apparently and convinced "Daddy's Little Girl" which one was the best option. Having never heard of the movie I asked her what it was about, and she didn't know, but she was sure Daddy had good taste and wouldn't steer us wrong. (Remember this was the "first" date, the one where you feel a powerful obligation to please the girl. And as a bonus in this instance you also realize this is the ticket to get in the father's good graces by using his recommendation.)

So you readily agree that this is just the movie to see. You're beguiled by the girl and want to make her happy, always with the thought of course of getting into her pants.

The movie in this case was called "Buffalo Rider." Seriously. The entire movie comprised of a guy riding around the wilderness endlessly yapping. I can't tell you what he was yapping about. And the worst thing? We sat through the entire movie. I would repeatedly glance at her and to see if she was enjoying the movie. And I couldn't get a read. I wanted to leave, but feared if she was actually enjoying the movie the first date would be a last date. I just couldn't risk that!

So we sat through this 'effin movie. This soul sucking event managed to depress any thoughts of  getting into the girls pants. My brain was fried and my whole body felt numb. I just wanted to go home. And that's exactly what daddy wanted. Sneaky, cunning bastard anyway.

So don't be fooled young guy. While you're under the illusion you made a good impression on "Daddy" you didn't. While you may not have been considered the Anti-Christ you definitely fell into the piss ant category.

Friday, September 17, 2010

A High Compliment Indeed

It's not often the mother of my two kids pays me a compliment.

After all, we've been divorced for several years.

But we've been thrust together this past summer several times helping our daughter deal with a couple of life changing events and decisions. (Well, not physically thrust together mind you. We're cordial, and I must say when it has come to our kids we've managed to be pretty much on the same page, but definitely not thrust against one another.)

But a true compliment was inadvertently overheard.

Mom to 21-year-old daughter: "Gee Ashlyn, why can't you learn how to cook? Even your father knows how to cook!"

Well, some of you may think she was simply hungry.

Oh. Ye. Of. Little. Faith.

It was a compliment, I refuse to interpret it any other way. So there.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

A Child Molester Files Suit Against Victim's Parents?

Everyone has a story about a "bad" teacher. But it's usually a kid who simply dislikes a teacher because they thought the class was too hard, or the teacher was too hard on them.

Pictured to the left is Anne Knopf, a substitute teacher who had sexual relations with a 13-year-old boy. A boy who was her own daughter's boyfriend at the time. (Gotta admit I have a little trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that 13-year-old kids are considered seriously in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship myself. Meh -- I'm probably just showing my age now with this thought.)

The boy's parents became aware that there was a problem with this teacher after learning of emails being sent back and forth between the two back in the spring of 2007. They filed for, and were granted, a restraining order against her and an investigation took place. What came out in court was that there were several encounters and the woman was convicted of second-degree sexual assault of a child and she was sentenced to nine months in jail and probation for five years in July of 2008. She also has to register as a sexual offender for the rest of her life.

(Personally I think she got off lightly. Had this case involved a male teacher and a 13-year-old girl I can't imagine a prison sentence of only nine months. It's a shame society in general thinks it's less of a crime when the molester is a woman.)

This is where the story should end. But it doesn't.

Apparently this woman decided she'd been wronged somehow and decided to sue the victim's parents stating the parents were negligent in their supervision of the boy which allowed her to have a sexual relationship with him for five months. I guess she felt that parents of 13-year-old boys should keep them in eyesight, or under lock and key, 100% of the time.

Thankfully the court threw this ridiculous suit out. But it's hard to believe a college educated person would feel this would fly in the first place. Sometimes having an advanced education doesn't necessarily make you a smart person. But what's really sad is that in her warped mind, even considering the thought that say the parents were possibly negligent somehow, is the fact that she's using it as justification for her crime.

I wonder if she goes into a store, notices the sales clerk isn't looking and thinks, "Well heck, they've got these shirts sitting right here at eye level on this shelf so I'll just pick one out, stuff it in my purse, and leave with it. After all the sales clerk didn't see me."

Kids On A Leash And Other Nonsense

I see a wide variety of people on days that I work. Working in a mall setting does that.

One pet peeve of mine is seeing a toddler being led/pushed/pulled around around on a leash like he was a family pet. To me, that's like carrying around a billboard announcing how lazy and inattentive you plan to be with your child in the mall. You're basically announcing that you suck as a parent and are incapable of multitasking. You might as well get a tattoo on your forehead stating that shopping is more important than keeping an eye on your child.

Then of course you have the screaming parent, who is screaming at their toddler, because said toddler is screaming itself. This is an everyday, afternoon occurrence. Let me fill you in on a little well known secret you mental giant of a parent. It's one most responsible and intelligent parents know. Toddlers need a nap, not a trip to the mall.

School is finally back in session and most stores, with a few exceptions, are very pleased. Our babysitting duties have now been turned over to the public school systems. Now instead of parents dropping their kids off at the mall to roam around all day, without any money naturally, they get dropped off at school. What do these parents think their lovely children did at the mall all summer without any money? I can tell you most mall employees would favor year round schooling. We'll take the heat of teachers hating us if this were ever to happen.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Blogger Etiquette, Not My Strong Suit Yet

Today's post has to do with a question on blogger etiquette. Definitely not something I know much about.

I guess what I'm looking for is answers and opinions on it.

As you can tell this is a new blog, this post being the fifth so far. This blogging endeavor has been a success so far for me. Of course my definition of success may vary wildly from yours. But in less than a week here I've got a few followers, and a few people commenting on my drivel. And that's been a pleasant surprise.

While I'm not obsessed with getting traffic here I do want to get some regular readers. Another thing I've found is a number of great blogs to read myself. (That's where the question on etiquette is going to come into play, if I ever get around to actually asking about it.)

I started looking for blogs to read by using the "Next Blog" tab. While I did find a couple of blogs I liked I also found that this was not a very efficient way to find blogs that interested me. So I went back to the blogs I liked and saw they were getting regular comments from people. And so I followed those people back to their blogs and found more blogs to read that I like.

So here I am finally getting to the question I have. I've added people to my blog roll when I've found I want to keep reading them. The question I have is should permission be asked of them to do this? (I know, I know, this is kind of like putting the cart in front of the horse since I've already got a blog roll formed.) But hey, if the normal procedure is to ask first before adding them to a blog roll I'm up for it from this point on.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Let's Lighten It Up A Bit In Here

Fairly new blog here -- check.

A few rant type posts -- check.

Time for a change of pace -- check.

A thought just occurred to me that I've once again failed to meet my mother's expectations. Oh, she's not around any more to make me aware of this though. She passed on almost 7 years ago.

But like every kid I knew, I heard the infamous line that went like this when I fell out of disfavor as a child:

"I hope you have kids just like you some day."

While I did fulfill part of the obligation to at least have the possibility of kids like me by producing one of each flavor they aren't and weren't "just like me." Now that they're young adults with one married with a family of his own, and the daughter is in the last year of college, it occurred to me that they've turned into pretty neat young adults.

Oh they aren't/weren't perfect kids. But they were pretty easy to raise and turned out well. I figure I just failed to pass on some type of devil gene that I possessed.

Oh well -- now I'll get to use that line myself with them. Only it'll be a positive remark rather than a negative one. Always a silver lining folks, always.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Debut Of The Worthless Co-Worker

They are everywhere. Every company has anywhere from one to a multitude of workers who are basically worthless. They either whine, are selfish, or filled with self importance, feel underpaid/under appreciated, lazy, untrustworthy, undependable, always sick, and/or out of touch with reality.

I work with one who exhibits the vast majority of the items listed. While you may say hey -- it's just one employee, she comprises one-third of the workforce here.

If you take note of the word "Debut" in the title of the post you may have gotten an inkling already that she'll be a topic in future posts here. (Honestly, she could be the sole topic for a blog on its own.)

While I still consider her a kid, she's actually 30 years old. I used to consider her simply as mildly amusing and irritating with her actions and thought process. (And I'm using the term "thought" process here very loosely.)

Her latest problem, or issue if you will, is the fact that we don't have access to the internet at work. Oh. The. Horror!

When I asked her how having this coveted access would help her to do her job her well thought response was "Huh?"

So I patiently asked the question again.

I'm sure you've already guessed that her need of the internet has nothing to do with her job. Why no, she needs this access for shopping purposes, personal email checking, messaging friends/family, and Facebook connections.

Of course I let her know I was 100% behind her on this issue. I even told her I couldn't possibly see how having access to the internet would make her even less productive than she already is. She didn't note the sarcasm. This statement went so far over her head that the military would have to shoot it down before it left Earth's atmosphere. Seriously dumb girl.

She asked me if I'd go with her this week when she approached the boss with a request for internet access. Being the nice guy that I am, I said "I sure will, and will tell him the exact reason I think it's a good idea that I just told you as well. I can't see how less unproductive you could be anyway."

Being the mental giant that she is, her reply was "That's great!"

It certainly is.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Yahoo Sports Blogs/Forums

What a total waste of time.

Here it is football season with college football in full swing.

I usually peruse Yahoo sports for scores and stories on the games I miss and can't help but find myself reading the comments made to the stories/blogs posted. But I get quickly turned off by the display of idiots with a keyboard and moronic comments.

The anonymity of the Internet makes for some brave souls with their comments. Brave, yet stupid. Along with the stupidity is the racist comments as well. No one seems to discuss a game rationally. Even if a comment is not racial or stupid you have a certain segment who has to make a comment totally irrelevant to the post. I don't read a sports story to see a political diatribe.

They ought to just disable commenting on sports stories/blogs. Why perpetuate and tacitly condone this idiocy?

Friday, September 10, 2010

Yes, Stupid, Your Driving Habits Do Affect Me

Speed limits are in place for a reason. I don't care if you're running late for work, supper, a date, etc. Your speeding, darting in and out of traffic, gunning the engine to pick up a few precious seconds is the thought process and actions of a total moron. Your total disregard for the safety of other traffic and pedestrians makes you a moron of the highest degree.

Chances are, if you're running late for work, it's a habit for you. Set your damn alarm 15 minutes earlier, get your shit together, and drive like a responsible citizen. It's not rocket science.

Putting aside the safety aspect is the cost factor.

And yes, your driving habit does cost me more money at the gas pump.

I read a study, many years ago, that stated that if everyone simply drove the speed limit, accelerated and decelerated at reasonable rates, the fuel savings would be approximately 17%. That's 17% less fuel we'd be depending on from the Middle East. Less fuel consumption also means lower gas prices at the pump. In other words, your actions cost me more money because you can't get your shit together, or have no regard for others.

I see this crap every day. The road I travel to work has synchronized stoplights. You can't beat them. But day in and day out some idiot, or several idiots, race between them because, while I'm only hazarding a guess here, is their desire to sit at a red light longer than me. While they're racing to sit longer at a stoplight than me and we traverse down the road we all get to the same area at about the same time. The only difference is that responsible drivers are doing it more safely, and using less fuel in the process, and saving wear and tear on their vehicles. (Which, for the morons out there, translates into saving money. I know, I know, a novel thought and one they don't seem to grasp.)

So how about getting your act together and start driving responsibly? (And who knows, the money you save can be used to further your education and possibly elevate your intelligence level a step or two above that of a moron.)