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.