February 1, 2009
Here’s a thought. What if future generations produce dumber and dumber humans? In other words, we take it for granted that people in the future will be smarter than us, but what if that’s not true? What if we’re dumber than say, the Romans, the Mayans, and the Egyptians before them? What if we just have bigger egos, so we think we’re smarter, but we’re not?
February 2, 2009
Christof was the ultimate gamer. A skilled machinist at the Volkswagen factory by day, he built himself a basement rig that was the envy of every games player alive. He even designed his own gamer pants and vest, and only started wearing a helmet when his mother caught him entering the fourth dimension without one.
But you know the Internet, as soon as word got out about Christof’s amazing rig, other mechanically inclined gaming fanboys had to one up him. The flashiest of these new machines was Viktor Rennin’s short lived, but fantastical, Viktor-nator.
Operated by remote control, it turned out to be a portal into another world, only discovered when Viktor’s assistant Elio disappeared during an intense game of World of Warcraft. So it was that the Viktor-nator became just a stepping stone on the way to what has turned out to be the ultimate gamer console – The Orifice.
You crawl inside it and immerse yourself in dimensions of game playing so real, so virtual, so real, that not only can you not tell the difference, you don’t care! Produced by a company in Thunder Bay, they’re still assessing the extent of cell mutations occurring from using The Orifice - oh, and not to forget the gamers who ended up living in the Orifice and not ever reemerging into the real world again because they couldn’t tell the difference anymore – and didn’t care!, but it’s been certified as good to go by a Canadian government anxious to have a delusional public who can’t tell what’s real in the hopes that the current disastrous administration can continue their awful ways. Wow.
February 3, 2009
We’re all worried about life on Mars while we ignore other inhabitants right here at home. Take trees, for instance. We use them for food, shelter, heat, clean air and natural beauty. There are WAY more trees in the world than there are humans. They live far longer than humans and we know that trees are living, breathing entities. Well, can you communicate with a tree? Can you befriend a tree? Can you respect a tree as you would another human? So how come life we don't know about on Mars is considered more significant than life we don't know about on Earth?
February 4, 2009
Once again, we were nominated for a 'Best Blog' award we didn’t win. Before the final selections were announced, all of the nominees were asked if we would make it to a live presentation in Miami (at our own expense!) if we won. That, and put some dorky sticker on our blog saying we won 'Best Blog' (sponsored by such and such, of course). When I said I wouldn’t do either if we won, we didn’t win. Hmm...
February 5, 2009
All of my life I have loved saying no. No, I do not want to do that; No, I’m not interested; No, but thank you. No is a word of power. Yes is acquiescence, compromise, and often the literal inability to say the word no. You can only say no if you have a bit of conviction about it, because no is a decisive word. When you say no, it’s for yourself; when you say yes, it’s often for someone else.
February 6, 2009
I’m in line at a store and listening to the pair in front of me talk about a movie. The older woman starts describing this handsome leading man as “dreamy, like a little Perry Como,” when the younger woman says, “Who the hell is Perry Como? Do you mean Luke Perry?”, and the older woman, still moderately swooning for either Perry or the handsome movie actor says, “I don’t know if he’s still alive, just Groggle Perry Como, then you’ll see.” And the younger woman just sort of goes off, “God! Do you mean Google?! Or is Groggle some other made up concoction of yours that you just made up because your intention is to drive me crazy with your making up words all the time! Google! Did you mean Google?!!!” And the older woman says, “No dear, I meant what I said. Groggle, the search place, little Miss Smarty Pants Angry Girl. I'm surprised you didn't know that.” Unfortunately, just as the young girl's eyes were bugging out and the rest of her head looked like it was about to genuinely explode, it ended there as the pair were now at the register to check out and had to focus on the salesperson rather than each other. Fun while it lasted though.
February 7, 2009
Rob was hoping that his cool hat would score him some chicks. Rob hadn’t been with a woman in eight years (each red star represents a year). But so far, the only attention he’s gotten is from an official standing by watching his every move. Sure, Rob knows he let himself go in the last few years. He knows he's clinically depressed, sure. The star hat is Rob's last hope. If the hat doesn’t bag him a babe, he doesn’t know what he’ll do next.
February 8, 2009
I’m taking today off. It’s what I’m going to do. Ok, ready? Ta.
February 9, 2009
This month has felt really good. Nothing special one way or another has happened, and I have no expectations that anything in particular will, but it kind of has a portentous feel about it. So if I can feel a month, if something intangible to my physical world, but is real nonetheless, is discernable by me, then is not a month merely a state of mind? Indeed, a day, an hour, this moment, are these all not just states of mind? Mental constructs?
February 10, 2009
They don’t come much more good time than Charley and Mo. These two clowns are a walking parade. Mo, on the left, seen here doing his famous – Hey, is that a UFO! gag, whilst Charley is acting as if he were developmentally disadvantaged, would be something if witnessed separately, but together was truly a circus. These two jokers started doing shtick in grade school and never stopped, including a brief stint as the vaudeville comedy team ChuckMo, where they learned rather quickly that the appeal of their humor at its furthest extent was apparently not a breath past regional in nature, so Charley and Mo went back home, to the holler, where everybody thought they were funny all the time.
February 12, 2009
We’ve had computer problems the last two days. Corrupted registry entries, missing dll’s, etc. I have spent over 12 hours trying to repair the damage and things are still not fixed. Sigh. Question: when are computers going to be self repairing?
February 13, 2009
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIThe TUCKER & SOPHIE & MADDIE ChroniclesIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Tucker + February = Happy
February 14, 2009
Valentine’s Day means cards, candy and sex. Why don’t we have more holidays like this one?
February 15, 2009
I was watching this unbelievably stupid movie starring this idiot big name buffoon and wondering how anybody could have invested in and made this stinking piece of dreck when, by the second act, I was so overwhelmed by its thorough and complete crappiness that I just had to look up its revenue numbers online. Ayiieee, this turgid piece of garbage made over 150 million dollars! What the...is it me?
February 16, 2009
Yesterday, I watched a pack of coyotes move through our property. Get this – traveling with the group, and not chasing them, was a domestic dog! It loped along with the pack as if it was a coyote, only standing out because of its larger size and black coat. Jeez, you don’t see that everyday.
February 17, 2009
I’m in a coffee shop enjoying a conversation with a friend when there is a car crash in the parking lot. Two vehicles have sideswiped each other and each driver was yelling that it was the other guy’s fault. Next thing, these two are in a fight and wrestling on the ground. The police arrive and pull them apart. The cops deal with the issue. Finished, the one driver leaves, while the other guy parks his car and enters the coffee shop. He has a bloody nose and his shirt is ripped up. He orders a coffee to go, wipes his nose with some napkins, and dials his cell phone. He says, “Well, I did it. Hope you’re happy”, closes his phone, grabs his coffee and leaves. What a fantastic wrinkle! It was intentional! Unfortunately, that’s all I know.
February 18, 2009
We’ve brought aboard a company stylist. I know you’re thinking why does an Internet publishing company need a stylist, and though that’s a good question, and I could answer it with, because no one else has one - don’t you think that gives us an edge? an advantage? a reason for looking good that goes hand in hand with our philosophy about feeling good? - but I’m not going to do that, instead I’m going to introduce you to Alistair Van Beauchamp, a devotee of another time when women were stylish without even trying and men wore comfortable, neutral, roomy yet tailored clothes - why not live there? why not resurrect that? I dunno, sounded good to me. Even though this picture looks like it’s a hundred years old, it was shot this morning outside the commissary. Ladies and Gentlemen, Alistair Van Beauchamp.
February 19, 2009
Uh oh, trouble. Alistair tried to get the gang in Shipping to wear the matching coveralls he designed, but Gina objected to the gold lamé accents. At first they were civil with one another, then she sneered, he spit, she shoved, he bit. Gina followed that dollop of cheek by feeding him three straight, accurate jabs and finishing him off with an uppercut that actually lifted Alistair’s feet off the ground and put him on his back. He spent all afternoon removing the gold lamé accents.
February 20, 2009
The following day, Alistair was sure he could get the guys and gals of the Data Entry pool to go along with his newest idea, typing gloves. He had this dream where the whole pool was synchronized like a Busby Berkeley musical, all typing in unison with wonderful, white kid gloves that were as soft as chamois and yet durable enough to withstand the pounding from the keys. Unfortunately, the folks in Data Entry laughed, then pummeled Alistair with his own gloves, bruising him greatly but leaving no marks.
Things were quiet for three days until Alistair found this fabulous material that he whipped up into company berets, but aside from native Quebecers Jacques in Translation and Mariel in IT, no one would touch Alistair’s newest offerings. As a matter of fact Sid, a down home Saskatchewan boy in Receiving, demanded that Alistair design some trucker hats because Sid is all man and wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a beret. When Alistair asked him what a trucker hat was, the way he said the word trucker sounded like it had bacteria attached to it, which did not go unnoticed by Sid who challenged Alistair’s condescending attitude, which unfortunately, Alistair defended by saying that anything trucker had no place inside an office and should be confined to “greasy, foul smelling garages where Neanderthals with wrenches grunt over”- but that’s as far as he got before Sid stopped him, informed Alistair that his father was a long haul trucker and for disparaging him, Alistair could take this – a right cross that knocked Alistair Van Beauchamp into tomorrow.
When I came in this morning, his resignation letter was on my desk. Sigh. I’m not so much shocked by Mr. Van Beauchamp’s decision to leave us, as I am the violent reactions Mr. Van Beauchamp’s ideas engendered in our employees. Therefore, I have decided to have the entire place undergo sensitivity training. Oh yes.
February 21, 2009
The sensitivity workshop was taught by Hiro and Muñez, shown here performing a trust exercise that unfortunately for Hiro resulted in irreparable shoulder dislocation, loss of feeling in both arms, ruptured vertebrae, hospitalization, emergency surgery, and a whopping lawsuit. Still, we deemed the workshop a success when Hiro, fresh from the operating room and trussed up in traction, said that he “kinda, maybe” still trusted Muñez. Heck, what more could we ask for? I think it’s safe to say we’ve righted the ship.
February 22, 2009
If I had something smart and clever to say right now, I would. But I don’t.
February 23, 2009
I got an e-mail from a woman in Poznań, Poland who was sure that I grew up there, we knew each other, and in fact, declared that I was her first kiss (she said we were 8 years old and did it behind the train station). Now to be honest, I don’t remember my first kiss, so I may have been 8, and it may have happened behind a train station, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t grow up in Poland. I told her this, she told me I was wrong. I dunno, who’s to say?
February 24, 2009
Yet another friend has converted to a Mac. This makes it an even half a dozen friends and family in the last year who have made the switch. What makes this last one surprising is he is his company’s IT guru, maintaining a Unix system that he migrated to Linux, and has now gone Mac in his personal world. I have been waiting for the next post-Vista OS, Windows 7, to upgrade computer systems, but to be honest, I’m going to have to give some serious thought to a Mac. Huh, who woulda thunk it.
February 25, 2009
My horoscope says that I should avoid all people today. It said they will try my patience, they will make me mad, they will make me want to kill them with my bare hands, after which, when the disposed ones are discovered by other people I haven’t killed, will hail me as a hero for ridding the world of the ones I did. Ok, maybe I made the last part up. Still, I think today’s message is clear: Stand back!
February 26, 2009
Today’s post is downright Twitteresque: We got a half-meter of snow last night. I gotta go plow. Later, my pretties.
February 27, 2009
Martin loved his new mirror.
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