Dain Bramage

We’re going out of town for a couple of weeks, so I am closing the pool, putting away the pool accessories.  Among the accessories is a giant blow up turtle that, for some reason I cannot quite grasp, is full of water instead of air.  So I’m trying to let the water out.  Had it been full of air, I would simply squeeze the air blower upper thingy – which is a nipple, I kid you not –  and crush the thing into hissing submission.  Full of water, the method fails.  One must tug on the nipple repeatedly, each time causing a small quantity of water to eject from the turtle.

That line from Meet the Parents occured to me, “Sure, you can milk anything with a nipple.”

“Really,” the turtle said, “I have nipples.  Can you milk me?”

I decided to buy the kids a new turtle and discard this one.

http://gmy.news.yahoo.com/vid/14282516/ (I couldn’t embed it.  Sorry.)

And the winner is…the bear, of course.  This unfortunate New Jersey man had something the bear wanted and, like bears and prison thugs are prone to do, he took it.  Listen to how the guy describes his fight with the bear, “I hit it…I kicked it with my foot…then he took my sandwich.”  I cried.  I almost peed.

You think the bear went back to his cave and told a different version of events.  “Yeah, I pushed him down.  Then I said, ‘Gimme that sammich, biotch!’  He know’d I waddent playin’ so he give it up like a cheap prom date.  That’s how this little brown bear rolls.

“What is this, black forrest ham?  This one of the five dollar foot longs from Subway?  Five dollar….five dollar foot-long….

“Wait.  What the hell?  Who puts bell peppers on a ham sandwich?  And cucumbers?  If I wanted a salad…well, I’d of attacked somebody with a salad.  You know what?  I’m going to track this guy down and make him get me another sandwich and I’m getting steak or crab meat this time.”

Officials set traps to catch the bear.  The traps were, of course, baited with pic-a-nic baskets.

And the winner is…this little slice of heaven to our left,
I’ll grant you, he’s not pretty, but I just can’t believe that this is supposed to be the ugliest dog.  Sure, he could use some orthodonture and a weed wacker to hack off that giant skin tag, but I’ve seen uglier.  He sort of looks like the crab-faced alien from Predator. 

And who entered this fellow on the right.  He’s not even close to ugly.  He kind of looks like the Mayer of Whoville.  Instead of an ugly contest, he ought to be precariously perched atop three beach balls, a tea cup and a gold fish bowl.

Holy crap!  Now that’s one damned ugly dog!  If that was my dog, I’d shoot or run over it with the lawn mower or something.  It looks like it might be dead already, with its tongue all hanging out.  Maybe it’s trying to choke itself on its own tongue.  I know if I was that damned ugly, that’s what I’d do.

“Kill meeeeee….kill me nowwwwww….Beat me to death with a claw hammer, stick my head in a blender.  I just don’t care.”  He’s number two in my book.  Kind of looks like the evil Gremlin.  What was his name?  Striper or something like that?  Either that or the monk from The Golden Child.

After what has almost become a year, it occured to me that my old blog might or might not still be here.

What do you know, it is?

So, in the off chance that someone may check this out every once in a while and ask, “Did that guy die or something?”  “Yes.  Yes he did, I believe.  Something involving a gerbil and a wood chipper or something.”  “I heard he was knifed to death in an alley over a stick of gum.  Maybe it was a Skittle.”

Contrary to news to the otherwise, I am yet alive and well.  When we last left our prematurely balding hero, he had just lost his friggin’ job after fifteen years – thanks a pant load, by the by.  However, not to be pushed to the side, our man had taken his lemons and made lemonade.  He simply refused to drink it because he doesn’t like lemonade.

Metaphors aside, rejoined the gainfully employed some time ago: January.  Yes, January.  I was laid off in October and did not start my next job until January.  Things are tough all over, but I received a rather hansome severance package – my own version of the golden parachute – an did not miss a paycheck or a house payment.

My old career has now become my past life.  I have fled to the government for employment.  I am now a high school math teacher.  So…no more cussin’.  Darn it to friggin’ heck!  I’m supposed to set an example or something.  Anyway, I managed to be rehired for next year which goes to show that my students retained at least the knowledge they had before the met me. 

In order to complete this transition and become a real teacher, I have to take some classes.  I thought it would be “classes” as in seminars or workshops.  No, they meant I had to take college classes online.  They’re making me learn…and it really has screwed up the whole getting the summer off thing.  How am I supposed to lay around the pool drunk or passed out if they keep demanding I read things and write twelve page papers about it?

And the best, of course, for last: the most significant of changes since last me spoke (I did that on purpose), I have gotten myself hitched. (Yes, of course I did that on purpose, but my earlier paranthetical comment refered to an intended grammatical error.) 

So, in short: I live, I work..um…I married.  I really enjoyed the whole blog thing and, if time permits, I will try to do more.

It’s the recession.  A dime isn’t what it once was, to borrow words from ‘the one,’ ‘four weeks ago.’  If one (not ‘that one’) hadn’t guessed, I am now enjoying that opportunity my former employer recently afforded me to sit at home and watch round the clock election coverage on Fox.

Somebody, please give me a job!

And, it’s not bad enough getting regular ole everyday spam, but once you put your resume out there in the ether, you start getting offers like the following:

Greg[last name redacted] : Job offer We have reviewed your resume at (THE, articles are so important to the language.  It’s how native speekers idenfy non-native speakers) website CareerBuilder.com (And I ‘ve just taken my resume down.  Thanks CareerBuilder!) and are eager to inform you that we are ready to offer you a vacant position of the “Financial Agent”. (Financial Aaaaaagent man.   Financial Aaaaaaaagent man.  They’ve given you an offer…for a vacant position, man.  You have to sing it to get the whole effect.)TNk ZT We looked through your skills and became sure that you correspond to our requirements. (i.e., We’ve identified you as a what we typically refer to as “a mark,” or “a chump,” or “a sucker.”  I think the Riches call you people “buffers.”  I don’t know what that means.  I just really like that show.)A3 MTRk The position of the money agent (I thought I was going to be the “financial agent.”)  will require from you a half-day activity (Good!  Leaves more time for beer and watching FoxNews!). Your work will consist in transferring (your) money among our clients. Job scheme (SCHEME!!!! Schnike!  I think you let one slip.) will comprise the following:NmQ xZD 1. You get a check by mail.ZT(Yeah!) lZm( 2. Than (“Then,” Umbala.  The word is “then.”) you cash itM(Yeah!)j djZj 3. You transfer the money to our clientsOT(Uh…)g4 MDU Your earning will be 8 % of the amount of each check.   (It could be 100%.) Additionally we are going to effect you (“Affect” vs. ”effect.”  I always get those two confused, but in this case, neither applies) $ 1500 as your salary at the end of each month. ($1500/mo?  Can I get a raise?)OTUz Nm Required skills to start this job:OW Ri - Nievity - Honesty, responsibility and promptness in operations;YmMz NT - Prior customer service experience is a good benefit;MTY0 Mzl (We don’t give benefits, we expect them.) - Internet and e-mail skills; Experience in online work;NT M3Zj - Good communications skills (“Officer, I didn’t know check kiting was illegal.”)0 Mm Njli NjM This job will allow you to: Nj li - Get additional free time; (And time off with good behavior.) - Efficiently work at home; MGFk ZTU0 - Get financial independence working only 3-5 hours per day; MG FkZT General requirements: Nj li - Willingness to take the responsibility (Willingness to take the fall…) to set up and achieve goals; YjRj ZTB - Prior customer service experience is a good benefit; YjR jZT - Ability to create good administrative reporting;(Where do I start?) YmY zN2 - Effective interaction with customers;Yz ZlN In addition we will be able to offer you $ 2500 as a monthly payment (Whoo.  There’s my raise!) after completion of the trial period.  (Is that trial in the Columbia Record Club sense or in the If the glove doesn’t fit sense?) ViO IIn case you are interested in the position, please answer this message. We will get in touch with you within 2 working days.NDJi Njd

The Ass Print Bandit Strikes Again

Oh, you nasty bastard!  Let’s see Marg Helgenberger dust for this one.

In the town of Valentine, Nebraska a local vandal is leaving his mark on, if not the world, then at least the windows of his own little corner of the universe in the form of a petroleum jelly imprint of his sitting place or, sometimes, his ‘for special.’

“Look mom!  It’s a picture of Squidward!”

“We were completely grossed out,” said Kalli Kieborz, who works in a downtown building. “One day I walked into the office and an employee said, ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been struck!’”  There he goes…boogitta, boogitta.

Local law enforcement hasn’t a clue, except a blurry video tape from a middle school parking lot. The man was 6-feet-tall or slightly taller, and slender. He had a dark complexion, and McBride said the man’s dark hair was styled in a “1980s, feathered look.”  Hmmm…I wonder if…na.

 

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish,  Black and Blue Fish

A fifteen year-old Arkansas boy got an unpleasant suprise, not to mention a mouth full of fish innards, when he was struck in the face by a fish that had lept from the water and into the young man’s path.  Unfortunately for young Seth Russell, and perhaps even more unfortunately for the fish in question, Seth was being pulled behind a speed boat at the time.  The fish broke Seth’s jaw and Seth’s face broke the fish.

Perhaps it was some sort of anti-fishing terrorist suicide maneuver on the part of the fish.  “Take that you bastard!”  Schwap!  It was the invention of the treble hook that put them over the edge.

As a wee-lad of somewhere between eight and ten, I had the misfortune of being struck in the forehead by a large flying insect whilst hanging my head out of the window of a ’73 Volkswagon Beetle.  Why you may ask was a wee-lad of eight to ten allowed to hang his head out of the window of a moving automobile?  It was the 70s.  We didn’t wear seat belts either.  The point is, at 30 miles an hour a small insect put a knot right in the middle of my noggin that I could have painted a pupil upon and passed off as a third eye. 

But I digress…  “He doesn’t remember anything at all,” said Linda, the boy’s mother.  “He was laughing and the next thing he remembers, he is waking up in a hospital.”

And now I’m laughing.

The Spice Man Cometh

Is that basil in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?

Two California farm hands had the most rude of awakenings when one roused to find a pantless man rubbing spices on his body.  Oh, I hate it when that happens!  You’re lying there, all asleep, dreaming about Ms. Hathaway from the Beverly Hillbillies and you suddenly find some dude is rubbing ground cayenne peppers on your alpinia galanga.

His roommate, however didn’t get such affectionate treatment.  Instead of being slathered down in nutmeg while he slept,  the second victim was beaten about the head and neck with and eight inch sausage.

I’ve never seen a gay porn, but I’m guessing this might be the plot of one.

The assailant, 22-year-old Antonio Vasquez was apprehended in a field a short time later wearing only a tee-shirt, boxers and socks.  Money he’d stolen from the roommates was recovered and returned to the two victims who are no doubt curled up int he fetal position and crying in the shower as I write this.

I saw this video on some sort of “best of” or “worst of” type reality show this weekend.  It’s the cops…chasing a Krispy Kream Donut truck.  Can anyone say, in an exaggerated gay voice, “I-ron-y!”

Skip ahead in the video to about 2:30 seconds, because the first part is just the police driving to the scene.  The officer shows up and two or three cars chase the truck in a circle through the parking lot.  The designated felon, realizing that this manuver had not fooled anyone decides that continually going right isn’t getting him anywhere and turns left.  This is why NASCAR racers don’t make good get-away drivers.

At around 3:30 comes my favorite part.  The truck strikes something in the road and the donuts begin to fly…like fish out for the blood of teenage skiiers.  You can actually hear a “whoosh” as one of the donuts flys past the cruiser.  One of the people on the show I was watch said, “It’s like chumming sharks.” 

Once the truck backs up and hits the squad car, not much else happens so you can stop it there.

…it wants its commercial back.

A recent ad campaign for Ruby Tuesday flaunts the recent renovations the resteraunt chain has imposed on its customers.  Have you been in a Ruby Tuesday lately?  My 10-year-old really likes it.  It’s a good thing for Ruby Tuesday she was buying.

In the commercial, a man pops up from behind a half wall next to a lamp.   He says to two customers sitting at the adjacent table, “The seventies called.  They want their lamp back.”  He takes the lamp their lamp away and replaces it..with one from the 1960s.  Apparently the 60s has dementia and has forgotten this smart ass took his lamp.

Oh, and could I have the 70s old lamp?  It would go with my basement decor.

I have been FIRED!!! That is what my daughter calls it, “fired.” 

Three weeks ago yesterday we were all called into a plant-wide meeting.  “This is about our pay raises, isn’t it?”  Alas, it was not.  At this point I could level criticism, proffer opinion and basicly belly-ache and whine, but I shan’t.  It is what it is and, until every option is exhausted, I will endevor to soldier on.  That night, I went home and typed up my resume and began sending it out by the weekend. 

At this point I’ve been to four job interviews.  Three were for the same job.  One was for an insurance company whose management system resembled that of Amway.  The latter did not work out, but the former is still a possibiltiy and there are other irons in the fire.  I also have developed the start of another source of income that I will explain later.  I’m not going to go broke.  I’m not going to loose a house.  The situation is under control.

However, this brings to mind all the other ways, besides saying that one has been fired, that one can, less that frankly say, “So long and thanks for all the fish.”  They are, in no particular order:

You’re being let go.
You’ve been downsized, right-size or perhaps even reorganized.
You’re shit-canned.
You’re being shown the door.
“I and 132 of my closest coworkers have been invited to seek opportunity elsewhere.” I actually used this one in response to an HR person asking why I was leaving my current job.  She seemed like she had a sense of humor.
You can’t hang out here any more.
If you come in tomorrow, you will be arrested.
You’ve been made redundant, obsolete, etc.
Your services are no longer required.
What is it you do around here anyway?
You’re now free to surf the internet on your own time from the comfort of your own home.
We’re replacing you with a mentally retarded trained chimpanzee with a slight astigmatism.
It’s nothing you’ve done, of course, since apparently you’ve done nothing for the last four years.
Don’t take it personal.  It’s not like you’re a person, now is it.
We would like you to step outside a moment so we can show you something.
Hey, look at it this way.  At lest we didn’t wait until you were 50 and no one would hire you.
And on your way out, please return all the office supplies you’ve stolen.