Men Never Grow Up

Asshole Lawyer just shut the lights out on me while I was going to the bathroom. I am now plotting some devious scheme to get back at him. Super Glue on his phone receiver may be a way to go. We are just like big children only with more money.

No Cars in Iraq!

I saw yet another news story about insurgents using car bombs to attack security personnel in Iraq. This has become an almost daily occurrence. After thinking about it a bit, I decided that the major issue isn't with the feistyness (is this a word?) of the insurgents or the poor security in Iraqi cities. The biggest problem is with this is the cars. They are just too damn convenient to stuff with explosives, drive into a crowded area and detonate doing major damage.

So therefore, I am starting a campaign to rid Iraq of all cars and we should probably lump trucks in there too. It will be called "Iraq for a Car Free Tomorrow". Kind of catchy isn't it. Of course they will need an alternative mode of transportation. I am thinking bicycles or better yet horses. I don't think you can jam enough explosives up a horse's ass to do any major damage. If anyone has any other suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them.

I'm going to need some grant money to get some research started on feasibility, I figure that $100 or so a month would cover my expenses (bar tab) for the "think group" to get things up running. Let me know if you are interested in contributing to this worthy cause.


Remember it's Iraq for a Car Free Tomorrow! It's not as dumb as looking for weapons of mass destruction, but almost.

Take Your Beasts to Work Day

I was a little surprised to see the train was packed with annoying children this morning. Then it hit me that I am a slacker dad and totally missed Take Your Beast Children to Work Day. Missed probably isn't a good way of putting it; consciously avoided is probably better. I actually don't see the point especially when working in an office environment. Trying to make that look sexy and exciting is just fruitless. Now if I had a cool job like mailman, garbageman or pool cleaner, then it would defintely be worth it. But what's the fun of showing my kids that I sit in boring meetings and type on the computer all day. Just thinking about it depresses me! The wife did offer to take The Girl with her to the Brat Farm. But going to the day care is more punishment than going to school. She can always hope for us to get cooler jobs; I figure I have a midlife crisis coming up soon. Maybe she'll get lucky. Cabana Boy, now that sounds like a winner.

I Told You!

Didn't I tell you. I walk into the Cub Scout meeting and there are 4 Papa John's pizzas sitting there. Their pizza is by far the worst. The canned sauce has no seasoning unless you count sugar as a seasoning. The crust tastes like it was made of Bisquick. And the cheese appears to be shot from an aerosol can. Disgusting! They also have that delightful lard based garlic dipping sauce. Of course the idiot kids and their parents for that matter we're like pigs at a trough. The Boy ate three pieces on his own. I'm not sure we are genetically connected.

I am a Pizza Snob

Tonight, I have to go with The Boy to a Cub Scout pizza party during the dinner hour and I am already dreading it. Not because the other parents and kids are downright annoying, they are but that's beside the point. The reason I am dreading it is that I know that 9 times out of 10 they will order total shit pizza from either Papa Johns or on one of the other local places that tries to pass cardboard and Ragu sauce off for New York style pizza . On top of that they will cut the pizza into little squares which is a Midwest thing that I totally cannot fathom.

Growing up on the East Coast, New Jersey for all of my childhood and Pennsylvania for college, really spoiled me in terms of what I rate as good pizza. In fact, it has caused me to become very particular about the pizza I eat, a snob if you will. I will only eat thin crust New York style pizza with prepared sauce and good mozzarella cheese. The pizza must be pie cut so that you can fold it in half when you eat it. It must also have a consistent amount of grease on it so that there isn't too much or too little.

The New York style pizza in the Chicago area is for the most part very subpar and many of the people out here cannot tell the difference between good and bad. I have neighbors that think Papa John's is delicious. I have no idea what they are thinking. Now, I will give credit where credit is due. They certainly have handle on Chicago style deep dish and are very particular about where they go to eat it. Yet many are unable to tell the difference between cheap canned sauce and bad crust when it comes to New York. If they'd just open their eyes a bit they'd realize there are much better choice out there.

If you are looking for a great piece of New York style pizza in the northern Chicago suburbs, here are two places I will recommend. Kaiser's in Gurnee has by far the best pizza I've had since we moved out here. Quonset in Waukegan is another that's right up there. Not quite Kaiser's but definitely a far cry from every other pizza place I've tried. Special note, both will cut your pizza in those damned little squares unless you ask otherwise. Enjoy!

Metra: It's Been a While

If you haven't figured it out already from the lack of Metra posts, I am back to driving on a fairly regular basis. And yes, if you're wondering, it still sucks. The Wife is picking up some extra hours at the Brat Farm aka Kindercare to help with our debt reduction plan that will eventually allow her to quit her job altogether. To do this, I have to get the "Beast Children" on the bus in the AM. This time, however, is the better than the last; I'm only driving three days a week this time. This allows me to take the train on Tuesday's and Thursdays.

I jumped on the early train this morning to meet up with the Mick and Rooster. Both regaled me with funny tales of the train and their lives. Last week they got on the bar car and it was filled with women over 50 all wearing red hats. One even had what looked like a dead red seagull attached to the top. Apparently, they are a cult of older women. I am jealous that I wasn't there with camera in hand.

Rooster then told us about her nightmare at Home Depot where she almost strangled an idiot night manager over her mishandling of a $6.59 refund for some ceiling tiles. Heather, I hope you enjoyed your fucking dinner. How people in customer service can be so stupid is well beyond me. I had a similar experience at EXPO about a year ago and haven't gone back since. They're owned by the same company; maybe it's part of their culture.

One point of note from the actual ride. A man and woman (I use this term very loosely) sitting next to us we're having an enlightening discussion about their excitement over the new Star War's movie coming out. I'm sorry, but I just don't get the hoopla over the whole thing. I thought the first three movies were excellent, but the others merely mediocre. Maybe I need to watch them again. At this point though, I am just glad it's coming to an end and some of these nerds can move on with their lives. Then to make thing even better they started to discuss the history of Legos in detail. That's a cut your wrist conversation if I've ever heard one.

Are Thongs Comfortable?

Ladies, I need your help with this one. Asshole Lawyer, Hot Compliance Girl and I went to lunch today. For some reason I can't remember specifically, the conversation led to us talking about women's underpants. Hot compliance Girl swears that thong underwear are extremely comfortable. Asshole Lawyer and I were extremely skeptical. Intuition say to me that they aren't; but I certainly respect Hot Compliance Girl's opinion. I always assumed that you endured the discomfort to overcome unsightly panty lines. Can some of you weigh in on the subject and let me know what you think.

Spongeworthy

I'm sorry ladies but the phrase, "You're just not Spongeworthy!" is no longer available as an excuse not to have sex. The FDA has approved the sale of the Today Sponge in the US after it being off the market for 11 years. You'll have to start warming up some oldies but goodies such as "You're a nice guy, but I think we should just be friends" or perhaps the classic "I'm sorry but I just can bring myself to sleep with a man that has that small of a penis."

http://www.nydailynews.com/front/breaking_news/story/302560p-259016c.html

Winners vs. Losers

Both The Girl and The Boy whipped some ass at soccer yesterday. The Girl had two huge saves in goal that led to 2-0 shutout over a really good team. And the The Boy's team crushed their opponent 6-0 with The Boy getting his second goal in the first two games of the season. Yeah!

Unfortunately, this blog is the only place that I can gloat like this. The league they play in is a non-competitive one where you aren't supposed to keep score and there are no winners and losers. What a bunch of bullshit! I hate to break it to the management of these types of leagues but in addition to playing soccer; we've also been teaching them math. So, everyone on the field knows exactly who won and who lost. The coaches and parents telling them that it's not important is a bunch of crap. Now, I understand that the point it to have fun and totally agree with that. However, losing sucks and if don't encourage your team to do their best to win, I think you are falling short in guiding these kids.

I also think that treating kids this way coddles them too much. Kids need to realize at an early stage that life isn't always fair and sometime you lose. Then your disappointed for a time and it makes you try your best next time. By not letting kids deal with the disappointment at this age, it causes them to be co-dependent and weak later in life. When I was growing up we had winners and losers, we had standings, and only the best go the trophies. And let me tell you, not once in my life did I ever get a trophy. I did, however, play on some teams that got better because I tried harder as a result of not want to lose anymore.

One last comment, when I was young, I also got picked on by bullies, but not once did I think about shooting up a school. In fact, I can't recall any school shootings from my youth. If I am off base here, I'm sure you'll let me know.

Obese People & Diet Coke

Asshole lawyer and I were eating lunch at OCB the other day. That's Old Country Buffet for those of you not in the know. They have a pretty good salad bar and it's always great people watching. Everytime we go in there, there's about a thousand elderly women playing Mah Jong. The shit that they talk about just kills me.

Anyway, I should get to the point of my post. OCB as you can probably gather from the name is all you can eat buffet. Well, all you can eat buffets tend to attract people that like to eat alot. So we are sitting there and next to us is an enormous couple with their plates piled high with fried chicken livers and hot wings. When I am talking enormous, I am talking huge, easily in the 350 range. After dropping off their plates at the table, the male of the group saunters over to the beverage station for some refreshments for him and his mate. And what does he get them, Diet Cokes! This whole concept baffles me. Does he think that holding off on the 120 calories of high test Coke will stave off the 10,000 calories of fried chicken fat that they are about to toss down their gullets. Because that's just delusional. Maybe it's a taste issue, but I doubt it.

The Carrotpenis Matriarch

I received an email from my mother this morning and it got me thinking about a hilarious story about her. My mother is slightly eccentric, carefree and will talk to anyone that will listen. She also isn't about to be contrained by what society feels is normal. When I was a selfconcious 14 year old, this was an utter nightmare. As I grew a bit older, maybe 8 or 10 years later, I started to realize that that things she does are just downright hilarious.

In college, I had been dating a girl for about two weeks. Dating is probably an overstatement. We were "new special friends", how's that. Not quite girlfriend/boyfriend but definite beyond the friends stage. Anyway, even though the relationship was new, this girl agreed to drive me home to my parent's house for the weekend. I know, you first thought was, "What the hell is he thinking?" But if you've ever met Pat and Andy Carrotpenis, you certainly know this is not a big deal at all.

As we arrive in my parent's neighborhood after the three hour drive, I notice my dad driving away from our house towards an area where there are very few destinations. I tell my special friend to follow him. Mind you, this is about 11:00 in the morning on a Saturday. We follow my dad for about two miles until he turns right into the parking lot of a local watering hole, The Hideaway. Now, stopping off for a drink at the Hideaway was certainly not out of the question for my dad, but early Saturday morning typically wasn't a time he would do it.

This girl and I pull up next to my dad's truck in the parking lot and get out. We do the usual hellos and introductions. And then I get to the important question of why is dad hitting the sauce so early on a Saturday. His response is that he's here to pick up my mother.

Now, my mother hardly ever drank when we we're growing up. Maybe a glass of wine at a wedding, but not usually any more than that. But not 10 feet away is my mother just shit faced at 11 o'clock on a Saturday morning. To top it off she is wearing a pair of tap shoes and is flailing her arms about trying to put together some sort of a dance combination with three of her equally drunk girlfriends watching. Apparently, mother left early that morning with the girls to do a bit of garage saleing. Which is where she picked up that fine pair of tap shoes for 50 cents. When things slowed down on the garage sale circuit, they decided to catch some brunch and a tasty beverage at the Hideaway. A couple, two, three beers later and things started to turn ugly. Well I thought the whole thing was extremely amusing and thankfully the girl with me had a good sense of humor. In fact, it is one of my most memorable visits home from college.

I love to whip this one out when mom tosses about an embarrassing story from my youth. It usually calms her right down.

MBTI Workshop

I had a workshop today that gave me my MBTI type. My official type was ENTP (Extraversion, Intution, Thinking, Perceiving). Here is what I got out of it unofficially. I am intolerant of stupid people. I know, big surprise there. I don't get bogged down in the details and can appear scattered. My wife can certainly attest to that one; I think she's trying to convince my doctor to put me on Ritalin. Others can find me aloof or uncaring. Again, big surprise on that one. And finally, while I might think hard about your feelings; I ultimately don't give a rat's ass about them anyway. That was fun and they even served free lunch.

Driving Tip

Hey dumbass!

Here's a little driving tip for you. When you are merging onto a roadway, don't try to slowly ease your way into the moving traffic. You look like an idiot and are going to cause an accident. Stomp your foot on the vertical rectangle and get your ass out into the moving traffic. It's much easier to slow down and meet the spot rather than trying speed up and get in there.

If this doesn't apply to you, I apologize. If it does, wake the fuck up.

Sincerely,

Reluctantly Driving

Code of the Road

Today, I did a presentation at a new hire orientation for our sales forces. After which the attendees were flying off to our production facilities to be wined and dined for a few days. This got me thinking. I know you've probably heard the phrase...Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. What many don't realize is that this phrase can apply just about anywhere. In fact, I have heard it used so many times, I am thinking of getting t-shirts printed that say, "Whatever happens in __________! Stays in __________!" The fact is that people tend to get a bit crazy when they are away from home on business. They drink more than they should. They do thing they'd never do in a million years if they were at home. They go places they'd never go when at home. And they associate with people (strippers and hookers) that they'd never ever associate with on their own home turf.

The ability to let these stories remain where they are, is the known as the Code of the Road. The only time when Code of Road can be broken is if the person who the Code of the Road story is about leaves the Company. Then it becomes Legend. That said, I'd still think very carefully about breaking the Code of the Road. It is a small world and there's probably a story about you out there. While I can't possibly share my best code of the road story because I am still friends with the person it involves and that person will kill me (Come to think about it now, this previous statement applies to more than one individual.) Here's one that I will share. A group of employees is drinking at beach side bar at dusk while onlookers are watching the sunset. One employee bets another employee that they won't take off all their clothes and streak down to the water and jump in (this is winter mind you). Second employee after more cash hits table from other employees complies and proceeds to strip down right at table. Employee then dashes across beach to water in front of many scared onlookers. Note: said employee was not specimen of physical fitness. Then employee nearly drowns in rough surf. How'd you like to bring that one home to the wife and kids.

If anyone else has a Code of the Road story they'd like to share, please do. I'll try to publish the best ones in a later post.

Pope Watch 2005

I don't know about the rest of you but I have had just about enough of Pope Watch 2005. If I hear one more news story about the black smoke and the white smoke, I am going to scream. Matt Lauer, who I like most of the time, went over it again this morning on the Today Show. I thinks that's the 10th time I've heard it from NBC alone. Even my six year old understands it at this point, black, no Pope, white, Pope. Do us all and favor and ease up on the coverage; the events leading up to it just aren't all that interesting. You've seen one secretive Cardinal dressed in red; you've seen them all. The next thing I want to hear about the Pope is his name.

Just My Luck

The Mick and I when to lunch today at Chibootie. Just as I am about to leave, I decide a trip to the little boys room is in order. For those that know me, I know, big surpise. When I finish spilling my water, I pull on the little handle to do the flush thing. Well wouldn't you fucking know it; Chipolte has the super flusher enabled. What seems like five gallons of water comes crashing down into the half gallon basin of the urinal. Lucky for me I have catlike reflexes and I was able jump back in time to miss the initial half gallon that came sloshing out on the floor. Unlucky for me I didn't jump back far enough and the water/pee combination that hit the floor splashed all over my shoes. How it didn't get on my pants is still beyond me. I hope that this isn't a sign of things to come today.

Rooster, do you think this would be grounds for you to throw the shoes away?

Ryan Seacrest is a Boob

Does anyone else think that it is just insane that Ryan Seacrest is getting a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame? What in the world has he done to deserve it? It certainly can't be for being a talentless talking head on a show that relies on the talent of random others for it's entertainment value, can it. And better yet, has the talent level of Hollywood fallen so far that the Walk people would actually consider him? If he can get one, I figure that my invitation certainly must be on its way to my mailbox. I am going to run home and check this evening.

Oh by they way, before all you American Idol nerds get jacked about me dissing the show, I watch it often and think it's pretty good. I just think that Seacrest is a dolt with a huge ego.

Metra: Random Observations

This email posting tool is great when it works. I can do live posts from my crackberry right on the train.

Here's some random crap from today's ride.

About three rows in front of me, some idiot is sitting on the upper level with his shoes off. The reason I know this is that his disgusting socked feet are hanging over the rail. Come on pal this isn't your house. Air the dogs out elsewhere.

Kermit is on with his disgusting bag of germ chips. He is talking with some kid that obviously works at a blue collar job. This is evident from his ratty clothes and full grasp of how to use a swear word between every other word he speaks. They are having an enlightening discussion about how the city folk encroach on their townie lives on the weekends.

Dog girl was present hammering away Miller Lite tall boys and yammering on about having to do her taxes. She really needs to get a consult in the bra department. Letting those big doggers roam free can't be good for her back.

Mr. Clean is on and he has a friend I will call Mr. Clean II. Maybe they are starting a cult. I will keep an eye on that one.

We are pulling into the station and I need to run. Catch you on the back side.

Good News Bad News!

First the good news, I participated in a focus group on corporate travel tonight and they paid me $125 to shoot my mouth off for two hours. Shit, I do it for nothing on this blog every day. What are they thinking? If you don't know about focus groups, I highly recommend that you check them out. Companies set up focus groups through research companies to talk about a myriad of subjects for an hour or two and then pay you, almost always in cash. They pay anywhere from $25 to $300 for the subjects I am qualified to speak on. I am guessing that doctors and lawyers get paid even more. I've done them so many times that I actually consider myself a bit of a focus group snob. If it doesn't pay $75 or more, I am not interested. I've done them on leased cars, office furniture, travel, copiers, and digital cameras. I've heard of people even doing them on window cleaner. If you live in the Chicago area, the one I work with is www.smithresearch.com. They do groups in both the city and suburbs. All you need to do is go to their web site and fill out a form. They'll call you if something fits your profile. Again, shoot your mouth off for two hours and get free money. Win, Win!

Now for the bad news...I was cruising home in a complete zone thinking about a topic for the blog when I look in my rearview and see the ominous flashing lights. Sure enough, I got a fucking $75 speeding ticket for going 70 in a 55. So, net on the focus group after the ticket and $25 for valet parking is $25. Definitely not a win. This was my first ticket in easily 10 years, and probably more like fifteen. I was definitely under 21 when I got the last one and I'll be 36 this year. Christ, I am old. To top it off the cop who pulled me over was nice as pie. Almost made me feel good about being pulled over. A delightful evening suddenly turns to crap.

Oh well, such is life.

Wisconsin Cheeseheads are Cat Haters!

Apparently there are hordes of wild house cats roaming the countryside north of the Cheddar Curtain threatening cheesehead children. Otherwise, I cannot explain the the craziness of the linked story below that supports the hunting of wild house cats. Perhaps all the beer drinking during hunting season makes the deer hard to kill and these cats are an easier target.

Now if this was some legislation that allowed me to shoot those damn Canadian geese that shit all over the sidewalk and try to bite me in the ass when I walk to the train, it would be something I could get behind.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/TECH/science/04/12/killing.wildcats.ap/index.html

Vacation vs. Home Improvements

If you have a choice between doing a home improvement project and going on vacation, always pick the vacation.

As I look back I can remember every family vacation we went on in detail but can't for the life of me remember what kind of couch we had or what color the carpet was.

Metra: I am a Buffoon

If you've been reading at all, tales of my foolishness are fairly commonplace. For whatever reason, if I am around something idiotic is bound to happen. It also helps that I am able to find humor in my own misfortune.

Let me preface this by saying the weather here today is complete crap. Not only much colder than it has been the past few days, but also rainy. So, I am sitting soggily on the train today minding my own business. At the stop just before mine, a woman gets on and sits down directly across the aisle from me. She's not unattractive, maybe not a 1, but definitely not ugly. So, I look and smile when she sits down; I'm married but not dead after all. She even exchanges the smile back. When I get up to grab my crap, I alway take an extra look around to make sure that all my stuff (bag, blackberry, workmaterials, etc.) is accounted for. Thankfully, everything was there. But as I stepped back to make my escape to the vestibule and my stop, I heard the crunch of brown paper. As I slowly turned around, I noticed that the large golf umbrella that I am carrying under my arm had managed to insert itself right through the handles of the woman's shopping bag and was nearly poking her in the eye. As I casually tried to right the situation by giving a sorry gesture and removing my umbrella from her bag, the umbrella gets caught on the handle of the bag and I nearly pull it onto the floor. Needless to say, my retreat didn't go smoothly. And yes, I am a buffoon.

Train lady, if you're reading, my apologies for nearly impaling your face with my umbrella. I am not nearly as stupid as I looked this morning. Oblivious sometimes yes, stupid no.

Lactation Room?

I was wandering down the hall this afternoon and noticed someone entering the company's lactation room for an afternoon pump. You gotta milk those puppies when the supply is available, or so I'm told. Yes, you heard me correctly lactation room. Illinois state law requires that companies with over 25 employees to have a lactation room. In fact, the law specifically states that the room can't be a bathroom stall or a broom closet. I'm am guessing that was already tried by some scum bag employer.

Well the whole lactation room got me thinking. Why not require companies to have other types of rooms. A massage room would be nice. Or maybe a place to take a nap; I've read that a good nap can restore your productivity. Even better yet, how about a masturbation lounge? Can't quite get through the day without one; you could just pop in there and rub one out. Or better yet a conjugal visit room. Even some prisoners have access to one of those, don't they. If anyone else can think of a room suggestion please let me know?

Sesame Street Sells Out!

I caught this nonsense on the news this morning. Apparently, due to outside pressure the producers of Sesame Street are changing the image of the Cookie Monster so that he promotes a healthier lifestyle. I'm sorry but if a fat blue ball of yarn is what is influencing the obesity of America's youth we have a far bigger problem. Rather than laying blame on TV, how about some of these parents stop eating pork rinds as a snack and get off the fucking couch and do something active with their children.

And Sesame Street, what are you thinking! What's next, anger management classes for Oscar the Grouch. Why not do something worthwhile like a marriage ceremony between Ernie and Bert. Come who do you think your kidding anyway.

AP Breaking News: Cookie Monster Eating Less Cookies

Professional Arm Wrestling

I grabbed lunch with Rooster and The Mick today. We ate a local wateringhole that serves tatertots as a side dish. Yum, love the tots. Course there goes my pretty good run of trying to lower my carb intake. Oh that's right,I blew that earlier this week when I had rice in my Burrito Bowl at Chipolte or as I like to call it Chibootie.

We like to go to this particular restaurant because in their bar they have the NTN trivia game. Every time we go there these nerds are sitting at the bar playing trivia and eating lunch. I am guessing that they do this everyday. They have NTN rankings at 250k+ and 500k+ respectively, if you know anything about that. If you don't, it means they're trivia nerds that have never touched a girl's boobie becuase they sit in bars all the time playing trivia games. Inevitably, we end up dominating the nerds at what they clearly think is their game One time when we we're there, Asshole Lawyer was talking smack with them after we beat their asses. A type asshole attorneys are apt to do stuff like that.

Today, we didn't do as well because we we're distracted by what I feel is one of America's highly underated sports, Professional Arm Wrestling. On the deuce (ESPN 2), they had the world championship of arm wrestling; it was goddamn hilarious. If you've never seen it, I highly suggest you give it a gander. Two neanderthal guys with their faces so close they could just about kiss each other grappling in a homoerotic tangle. I don't think you can get more white trash than that. How it doesn't get more TV coverage, I'll never know. If you can't catch it on TV, check out their web site www.armwrestling.com.

Stupid Dog

Stupid Dog

About a year ago, the Wife, the Girl and the Boy started doing the full court press on me about getting a dog. Previous to this my primary opposition to getting one was that we simply weren't home enough to take care of it. However, about this time last year, the Wife's job situation changed and she started working part time. This made my opposition to dog moot and opened door for leveraged negotiation. I finally relented after about a month of a very one sided deliberation. And in July we got what I often refer to as "Stupid Dog"! Here's a little background on the dog.

After doing extensive research on breeds, the Wife convinced me that getting one of the newer designer cross breeds would be the way to go. The theory is that by cross breeding purebred dogs of different breeds you get the best of both breeds without the negative genetic predispositions. This I have discovered is a bunch of bullshit.

The particular breed that we decided upon was a Puggle. No, it's not a cross between a Pug and Poodle. That would be a Poogle. This is a cross between a Pug and Beagle. Well, as I indicated above, the cross breeding of these dogs is suppose to work some of the bad traits of these animals out of their breeds. In fact, I think we got quite the opposite.

This one is the worst of both breeds. Pugs are needy psychotic lap dogs. This dog is not only needy and psychotic, but it's also much bigger than a pug. How would you like a 25 pound yappy dog sitting on your lap while you are trying to type on the computer. Beagles like to run away. If this thing sees the slightest opening of a door, he makes a break for daylight. And let me tell you if we didn't already have about $2000 invested in this fucking thing, I'd open up the front door and let it go on its merry way. Beagles like to howl and bark. This thing barks at the drop of a hat. It especially likes to do it at 3 or 4 in the morning when it hears the house creak. Pugs are very particular about the way they like things. This one doesn't like to get it's feet wet. How the hell are you supposed to take a dog out in the rain to crap if it won't get it's feet wet. I can tell you it's a battle of the wills. Beagles like to dig. While this one hasn't been tested out yet, but I am guessing he can dig a hole to China if any of these precursors are indicative.

Well I could go on and on about the thing that drive me nuts about the dog, but I will leave that for another day. There is one good thing about the dog though. It antagonizes the shit out of the cat which I dislike even more than the dog.

Metra: Foot in Mouth as Usual

Yesterday, while Rooster and I were riding home on train, we were discussing about how another one of our train friends, "The Mick" should shave their already balding head completely. At one point in the conversation I joked, probably more loudly that I should have, that Rooster just wanted him to shave it so she could rub his head when they rode on the train together. This was complete with hand motions. Well, doesn't it figure that right across from us is the huge Butterbean looking guy with a Mr. Clean shaved head. I'm entirely sure that he thought we were talking about him. I really need to look around before I start making any smartass comments from now on. Well maybe Rooster will get a new admirer out of this.

New Rating System

I have a friend (Asshole Lawyer) that thinks that the 1 to 10 rating system of the opposite sex is somewhat obsolete and needs simplification. Rather than a ten point scale he contends that you can just do it on a two point scale. Either you'll have sex with the person or you won't. If you will, they're a one. If you won't they're a two. I've tried it out a bit on the train and I think it does the trick. It's works especially well when you are in close proximity to the ratee with other raters in the know. Give it a try and let me know what you think.

Metra: People that Run to Their Cars are Idiots!

I was in a hurry to get home last night. The train was running late and I had to eat dinner before running off to soccer practice. I decided, wrongly of course, to hustle to the car like the rest of the lemmings off the cliff. As I quickly descended the stairs from the train car, I tried to make an evasive move around some woman at the bottom moving at a slower pace than me. I nearly made a clean pass when she suddenly she shifted her purse to one side. Subsequently, my Blackberry got caught on her purse strap and ejected itself from the holster. Next thing I hear is the horrid crunch of plastic meeting asphalt as my Blackberry skids across the sidewalk in multiple pieces. The main unit is in front of me on the ground. The back cover and battery have located themselves somewhere under the chain link fence that separates the train platform from the parking lot. I quickly picked up the main unit and thankfully the screen is not damaged. I then jockey around the fence to gather the other parts. I am such a dumbass.

This may be karma though. I regularly laugh at the idiots running to their cars from the train to get out of the parking lot one second sooner. I firmly believe that middle aged men should not run unless they are playing a sport or being chased. But here I am, not only one of those idiots but also an idiot that has pulled a stupid stunt and has to crawl on their hands and knees because of it. I think this makes me worse than them. Oh well, such is life.

Note: There is no way this will stop me from laughing at them from now. In fact, going forward, I think I'll look for someone to fall now that I know that it's a distinct possibility.

Soccer Anyone?

Tonight, soccer season begins. I am coaching a 7-8 team on which "the Boy" plays. Teaching young children soccer is something similiar to trying to herd a bunch of cats. I love doing it though. The crap that comes out of their mouths and better yet their parent's mouths is just priceless. You can bet this won't be the last soccer based post.

Here's a pretty good soccer story from last year. Last season, I coached a 5-6 coed team. On that team, I had a child named J. J was one of those beautiful children that could be a model, great skin tone, long braided hair. J also had one of those androgynous names that could either be a boy or a girl's name. Well you can probably see where this one is going. For the first 3 weeks of a six week season, I thought that J was a girl. J definitely looked like a girl. Afterall, the kid had hair braids complete with hair colorful hair elastics. And I'm not talking about cool corn row hair braids. I am talking about two in the back pollyanna hair braids. Not once did anyone tell me otherwise including J's parents and even J, who was 6 years old and could obviously speak. All the other kids thought he was a girl; my assistant coach thought he was a girl. Finally, at picture day, middle of the season, when I was lining the kids up my mistake apparently became obvious to one of the other kid's mother's. She takes me off to the side and tell me that J is a boy and that it took her 6 months the previous year to figure it out. I was floored. At first, I even thought she was just messing with me. Well it took me nearly the whole three week to get the calling him a girl thing out of my system. To this day, "the Boy" is still confused.

Parents, while I understand you want your children to be individuals. Please be very careful when cross gender dressing them without their consent. It's an ass kicking waiting to happen.

Fashion a la Napoleon Dynamite?

Rooster and I saw this joker a few skyboxes away at the Bulls game last night and couldn't resist getting a pic. He was trying to emulate Diedrich Bader's Rex Kwon Do character from Napoleon Dynamite. When Rooster went to get his picture he kept saying "How would you like a round house kick to the head from someone wearing these pants?" What a jackass!

Now I think that Napoleon Dynamite is a hilarious movie. And who can't resist a good tater tot every once in a while, love the tots. But I think when you start using it as a metrosexual fashion trend, things have just gone too far. The whole Zubaz pants thing was an embarrassment to American culture anyway; let's just let them die a quiet death.

Note: I love that this guy thinks that Rooster is taking this picture because she thinks he's cool; when we just wanted the picture to show what a gigantic doof he is.

Bulls Win!

Last night, I had the opportunity to go to the Bulls game at the United Center. Rooster's company has a sky box and she boondoggled some tickets for us. Not only did I get to watch the game, but free drinks and food to boot. The Bulls played the Cavs with the phenom LeBron James in all his basketball glory. Not only did I get to see him play a pretty good game capped off by a buzzer beater three pointer to tie the game up and send it into overtime. But I then got to see the Bulls whip their ass in overtime. Win win as far as I'm concerned.