Sunday, April 29, 2012

kkk at work

Yeah, we're back after an extended break!

Let's ease back into this blog-business with a nice little story about workplace race relations, shall we?

I hope you've heard of the game/time waster knows as MFK. Of maybe you know it as marry, ferk, kill. Or maybe as bed, dead, wed.

Never heard of it? Take a guess how you play.

OK, name three people to a friend, and he or she has to choose one to marry, one to ferk, and one to kill. Pretty easy right? If you can put together three good names, you can get some interesting answers out of the group.

So, a couple rounds deep at lunch a couple weeks ago, homeboy's eyes widen as he spots a trifecta of perfect subjects for the next round of MFK. For my next round of MFK.

Bear in mind, instead of each of the three full-worded options, we instead utter the individual letters: M, F, or K. You know, to avoid being overheard at work talking about actively murdering or boning somebody. Tryin' to avoid that HR ish.

Anyway, Following dude's wide-eyed gaze, I turned around and what did I spy but three morbidly obese, troll-women waddling around the cafeteria. Before I even had a chance to think about what I was saying, I confidently spit it out:




And that was before I remembered the next lunch table over was packed with about 7 African American lunch-goers.

Happy ending though, nobody outside our table heard my little MFK indiscretion.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


The other day, I happened upon a band called El Creepo!. Yes, the exclamation point is part of the band's name.

For the most part we've got acoustic rock, with a few peppy jams mixed in. But the vocals, almost whispered at times, combined with the fucked up lyrics, give it kind of a subtle unsettling vibe. Whatever that means.

Love the part about the Jonestown holiday lol.

Check out this little uptempo acoustic jam featuring super PUMPY synths bouncing around. And considering we're in April, you gotta get PUMPED about super PUMPY synths.

In other PUMP news, we have two (2) of our friends coming into town on Thursday night. They are tentatively planning on staying until Monday, but I'm not sure they'll last that long lol. See the kicker is, it'll be the two of them, both female, Heckyeahwoman, and ME.

All in one tiny ass little house, with one bathroom. Truly pity she who uses the turlet after me.

But whatevs, we're gettin' ready for their impending arrival.

Shower cameras mounted.

Creep-mode dialed in.

Full-on cleaning almost completed.

Ladies, we are ready for you! And we're super PUMPED for this weekend!

Monday, April 16, 2012

that's just the way it works out

That's just the way it works out?

What? Fuck that. Are you kidding me?

That's just the way it works out.

Think about what that means for a second.

Out for brunch yesterday, we had a free Groupon or LivingSocial or something. Basically the brunch and unlimited mimosas were both free; if you ordered a side of bacon or something, you paid for that.

Pretty simple, right? Everything was great, even the $3 side of bacon that we ordered. A couple mimosas each, a smoked trout omelet, and a beef hash dish thing, life is good.

Then came the bill.

We were both initially perplexed when the $3 side of bacon came to a total of $7.63. Upon further inspection, the total of what we ordered, including the six $7 mimosas was taxed. That's cool, whatevs. But here's the kicker.

That total came to $7.20. The extra $.43 came from taxing the $7.20 again.

No kidding, they taxed us twice!

But that's STILL not the kicker!

I asked the waitress about it, at Heckyeahwoman's prompting, not sure if it was just a mistake or what. I even prefaced my question with, "I hate to be a dick about forty three cents, but..."

Her response?

"Yeah, that's just the way it works out."

I got so pissed off that I reflexively scribbled a big fat zero on the gratuity portion while uttering probably a little too loudly, "fuck that". Seriously felt that anger literally boil up inside of me, like on the cusp of breaking out in a sweat. Imagine if I'd have been like nine mimosas (instead of three) into my day.

The forty three cents doesn't matter; I don't care about that. I hated the answer, and that's not even an answer. That's a blow off. That's an insult. That's a smarmy "you just got taxed twice and I don't think you're going to do anything about the pathetic reply I just gave you".

Saturday, April 14, 2012

civil rights 2012

The civil rights battle still rages on in 2012. Here, it has apparently entrenched itself in a classroom at Florida Atlantic University.

When I was in college, why couldn't something awesome like that happen?

Thursday, April 12, 2012

not really anything funny

Since the holidays I've dropped probably about ten pounds. Maybe a little more. Either way, I'm right around 185. Funny, cause my goal weight was 200, and instead I wound up losing poundage and getting further away. Now I'm just trying to get fit, lean, and RIPPED AS FUCK, YOU PUSSIES.

Had a little hiccup with a minor injury, if you could even call it that. Yeah, got a little case of retrocalcaneal bursitis. Retro-what?

Basically where my achilles attaches to the bone in my foot, that spot is inflamed, right at my heel. The tendon is kind of tight, and kind of tight means tight enough for the bursa sack to get pissed/inflamed. After about a month of limping around, I finally went to the doctor, and he told me to just ice it. And to chill out on working out for a bit. Riiiiiight.

It was starting to feel better, but then I went to see Andrew WK in late March, got up front, and jumped around, and it got super sore.

Luckily I found Heckyeahwoman's moon-boot looking foot-immobilizer thing. Wore that for a week, iced furiously, and we're feeling all kinds of better. Just need to have this ish healed up for the work softball season.

Basically for the last two weeks, I've been working out at home - a combination of yoga and body weight exercises. My brother pushed me to step up my pushup game, and I did, to the tune of banging out 80 pushups in a row, on the reg.

No biggie.

90, then 100, maybe by end of April.

One routine I came up with, and am really enjoying at home is what I'm calling calling 38's or maybe THE THIRTY EIGHT. Anyway do this in a row, no rest between each of the four moves (1 set), rest a minute, then do it again and again till you're at four sets. Do some more exercises, then do two more. Then do some more exercises.

5 pullups
15 pushups
10 body weight squats
8 hanging ab raises

Spit gets my heart rate a-PUMPin'.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

the dumping station

Real quick little story here about one of our fondest house-hunting memories that is sure to be something we'll be able to tell our kids, and even our grandchildren.

See, this is our first serious search for a house. So much of the stuff we're seeing is new to us.

So real quick, we were checking out the basement, partly finished, huge, even with a full bath down there!

We happened upon an area towards the back of the basement, that appeared to be a mini room, but it was concrete, and only about chest-high. There appeared to be a door. And by door, I mean a curtain, blocking the entrance.

Opening up the curtain, we noticed a TOILET and a SINK.

That's it.

Heckyeahwoman and I shared an audible chuckle, audible enough for the realtor to hear us and make his way over. The three of us gazed in splendor at the toilet. Finally, waiting for Heckyeahwoman to make her way onto the rest of the glorious basement, the realtor shared his two cents:

"Yeah, that's the dumping station."

It gets better; on the other side there of the toilet, there was another same-sized chest-high room. Only this one housed a shower. Totally an army barrack, prison style full bath in the basement. And here, full bath means super sketch dumping station and concrete shower.

I loved it; Heckyeahwoman hated it. And just like in real life, hate trumps love, so we're not getting that house.


Friday, April 6, 2012

dicked around

let's make this short and to the point: the bank we currently bank with is currently making it super hard for us to give them more of our money.

it's true, chase bank is playing hard to get in this mortgage game we got here. we bank with them, i have a healthy bank account, my wife is about to be a college professor, we both have good credit, but for some reason they won't give us the time of day.

this dude flat out refused to even entertain the idea of my wife and i buying a house with chase. after finally talking to him for a minute, we made an appointment and he blew it off.

this was of course after i submitted three (3) online requests for contact. two (2) weeks after i submitted my initial request lol. this was of course after i called the local chase branch to see if homeboy was alive. this was of course after he ignored the message the manager of the local branch supposedly left for him. this was of course after i left him a voicemail.

you might think this is pretty crazy, but this actually happened. some pud who works on commission is turning down a prime prospect. i was in sales at one time and selling current customers was the best thing ever. like i always say, never trust a guy with a goatee.

if you're a mortgage lender with chase, and you're reading this, get at me.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

media player meltdown

if windows media player doesn't stop fucking around with me, i'm going to smash this fucking computer and skype it to the goddamn internets.

i don't even know what the fuck happened. one day media player was working fine, the next day it only plays one song, then pauses. the problem is that my entire music library no longer automatically feeds into the playlist, and plays continuously.

now when i play a song, that one song goes into the playlist, it plays, and that's it. what the fuck.

i recently synced my ipod to this computer, and i think somehow that fucked up the operation.

yep, somehow apple manages to fuck things up even when i'm not even using apple programs.

what a waste of an hour and a half last goddamn night, trying to fix this shit.

i am so glad that steve jobs is dead.

Monday, April 2, 2012

like it never even happened

Here's another one out of millions of my posts that begin with "the other day at the gym".

Yep, the other day at the gym I was busting out some mean-ass cardiovascular body-hating annihilation, when on the TV comes a commercial for a company I was unfamiliar with.

I've heard of SERVPRO, just had no idea what they do. After seeing that short little spot, I now know they are in the business of making empty promises.

Watch this clip and tell me if you're smellin' what I'm cookin'. Go ahead, it's only 16 short seconds. You could make love to your woman, smoke a cig, and crack a cold one in that time.

OK, since I know you didn't watch, SERVPRO is in the damage cleanup and restoration business. Yeah, they come in and clean up after a fire or flood in your home.

But at the end of the video, their little tagline is "Like it never even happened."

UUUHHHHHH brutal house fire killing little Timmy's entire family! Like it never even happened!

Thanks SERVPRO! Like it never even happened!

I can understand how they can clean a house thoroughly after a flood or fire, but I'm having trouble trying to wrap my head around their patented Dead Family Member Recreation Technology.