All posts filed under “Everyday Life

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Kitty 2.0

Oops I did it again! I got myself another feline companion. I’d like to introduce you all to Oatmeal. I adopted her from AZ Happy Tails Animal Rescue at the Pet Adopt-a-thon at Earnhardt Ford.

Oatmeal is 2 years old, and enjoys eating, napping, scratching stuff, and kneading. She’s also very good at meowing, shedding, and pooping (a little too good at pooping if you ask me.)

Oatmeal tested positive for Feline Leukemia , which means she may or may not live a long time, but she will have a very nice life while she’s here.

I can has cheezburger?

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30 Day Challenge: Meditation

meditation2Tomorrow is the final day of my No Hat 30 Day Challenge. I would love to say that I achieved some sense of enlightenment or freedom that had been previously shielded by my hat, but that was far from the case. After 29 days without my brimmed yarmulke, I’m ready to glue it back on permanently. I just didn’t feel or look like myself the entire time. I guess the only positive thing I can take away from the experience is just the satisfaction of following through on a commitment.

For my next 30 day challenge, I will be meditating for 10 minutes every day. Why? I don’t know. I guess I’m just curious what 10 minutes of mind clearing can do for a person. I don’t intend to explore the spiritual aspect of meditation, but if I happen to be transported to another level of consciousness, I will let you know.


UPDATE: I failed miserably at this challenge. Meditation must be for people who have so much going on in their lives, they need the silence and serenity to keep themselves balanced. My life is filled with solitude, silence, and nothingness; so technically, I’m meditating all the time. Scheduling time to do more nothing proved to be a bit too redundant for my liking. On to the next challenge.

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30 Day Challenge


Last month, I decided to take on a 30 day challenge. For 30 days I refrained from viewing any adult material nor did I participate in any activity associated with viewing said material. It goes without saying it was extremely hard (pun intended.) I made it through, however, and I believe I am now a better man for doing so.

By the way… day 31… RIDICULOUS!

Anyway, my courageous act of selfless restraint seems to have inspired my co-workers to take on their own 30 day challenges. Each person chose one specific thing to do (or not to do) over the course of the next 30 days that would, in some way, have a positive impact on their lives. I am going to participate as well, but this time I’m choosing to do something a bit less… um… personal.

For the next 30 days, I will not wear a baseball cap. Ever since I was given control of what I could wear on my head, I have worn a hat. From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, I have a hat on my head. Some nights I even wear it to bed. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even had a job where I couldn’t wear a hat.

Although I’m not bald. my hat is definitely an accessory, without which, I’d feel naked. I’d like to think that going hatless for 30 days will not only prove to myself that I am not a slave to my hat, but also, I hope that it allows people to see a more genuine side of me.

I’m not going to bore you with daily updates of what it’s like to not wear a hat. I wouldn’t even read my own blog if I did that. I will, however, fill you in 30 days from now. Wish me luck!

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, here are my co-workers’ 30 day challenges (using initials to protect their privacy):

A – Post a blog at least 3 times per week.
R – Do some form of exercise for at least 5 minutes per day.
K – Do not wear pants to work. Only dresses and skirts.
D – No ponytail at work.

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Cup o’ Kitty

cup-o-kittyTwo weeks ago I went to As You Wish Pottery and painted a coffee mug. It was the first time I painted anything remotely artistic since maybe high school. I have to say, I am immensely proud of the end result.

My masterpiece was inspired by my favorite photo of my cat, who passed away early this year. She loved to spend time out in the back yard, under the tree, and make squeaky chatter noises at the birds.

Check out the photos below. How can that mug not put a smile on your face?

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They say that roaches are such resilient creatures, they are one of the few species thought to be able to survive a global nuclear fallout. My theory is: perhaps they are not as resilient as we think, and that humans are just too stupid to figure out how to permanently exterminate them. I present to you, as evidence, the following conversation with the leasing manager of my apartment complex.

The set-up: I was having issues with roaches in my apartment. Three times, I requested to have my apartment bombed, and three times, they did not bomb.

Me: John, they didn’t bomb again. You assured me they would bomb, and they didn’t bomb.

John: They didn’t do it? Lemme look here… hmmmmmm… where is that book? Here it is! No… no… they did do it. It says right here, they inspected and sprayed.

Me: John, I’m going to have to stop you right there. You and I both know that “inspect and spray” is not the same thing as bombing. I asked for the bomb, you wrote down bomb, and you posted a notice on my door that said bomb. Please don’t try to pretend that they bombed, when you know they didn’t bomb. Just own up to it. Say you dropped the ball, and fix the problem.

John: Well I wasn’t here yesterday. It was my day off.

Me: I know you weren’t here, and I don’t expect you to miss your day off, but it’s not unreasonable to expect you to delegate the task to someone else. Especially when you told me you would personally make sure it got done after the first two times they didn’t do it.

John: At this point, I think you need to talk to Jason, the Property Manager.

Me: Why do i need to do that?

John: Because I’ve done everything I could do on my end.

Me: John, you just told me you weren’t here yesterday. So how did you do everything on your end?

John: I think you should talk to Jason. You would have more of a chance at getting what you want.

Me: But I just told you what I want. I want them to bomb. What would prevent you from conveying my request to Jason?

John: I don’t understand the problem. You live right next to the office. What’s the big deal? Just come in and talk to Jason. He’s a very nice guy.

Me: Well, John, you WORK in the office with Jason. So technically, if proximity is the issue, then you’re closer. In fact, you LIVE above the office, so again, YOU’RE closer. What is so difficult about telling Jason that I want to have my apartment bombed?

John: Look, Eric, Jason is a nice guy. Just come in here tomorrow, and tell him that you asked to have your apartment bombed three times and…


John: I think the problem is the exterminator didn’t notice sufficient enough activity to bomb. It says in his notes that he only noticed a few dead roaches.

Me: They were dead BECAUSE I KILLED THEM!!! They were “ACTIVE” immediately prior to me “DEACTIVATING” them!!! And why must I have swarms of live roaches everywhere in order to get my apartment bombed? Please tell me why can’t I just get my apartment bombed?!?!

John: I think you should talk to Jason about that.

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The Worst Host Ever

No, I’m not talking about Nick Cannon from America’s Got Talent. I’m talking about my web host.

I don’t know if anyone noticed, but my website was down for 2 days because my domain expired. The domain that was supposed to have free registration for the duration of my hosting plan. I won’t bother you all with the details about hosting, DNS, registrar transfers, and all that technical stuff. I will say that I am extremely well versed in this area so, to anyone who would assume that I was somehow confused by the process, you can stop sympathizing with the hosting company. No, really… stop it! It was entirely their fault.

Dear Google,

Next time you crawl my site, please index the following keyword phrase: is the worst hosting company ever!


I wasn’t going to mention any names, but what would be the point of complaining unless it can somehow prevent someone from making the same poor choice that I did?

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The Honey Wells


In 2009, like many people, I fell victim to “economic downsizing”. My job, at the time, involved developing online home business opportunities, which ultimately would be sold over the phone to vulnerable, gullible, and most likely elderly, “entrepreneurs”. It wasn’t the most honorable work, but times were tough. I foolishly left my previous job without having something already lined up. Prior to that I had never been jobless. I thought someone with my skill set could land something right away. Turned out, I was off by 3 months.

Anyway, things at this new job seemed to be going great. The company just began implementing my latest get-rich-quick program, and it proved to be very salable and lucrative for both the company, and surprisingly, the customer. I had been receiving praise left and right from all the higher-ups, I was starting to be asked to sit in on the management brainstorming sessions, and I was regularly invited to join the bosses for drinks after work. All signs pointed to an inevitable raise and promotion.

About a week before Christmas, I was called into the owner’s office; 100% sure this was going to be the Christmas bonus / raise / promotion / ‘Thank you for the New York Cheesecakes you gave everyone for Christmas’ meeting. Feeling excited and confident, I joked as I walked into the office and sat down, “So this is it? You guys are finally firing me? Ha ha ha!”

The problem was, no one else was laughing.

Thinking back on that moment, my little joke probably resulted in the fastest exit interview ever.

“Um.. actually yes we are.”

I soon found myself being escorted from the building, and once again out of a job. This time, however, my unemployment lasted a whopping 7 months. During that time, I diligently applied to over 200 positions ranging in pay from $9/hr to $30/hr. With jobs scarce and applicants saturating the market, I was only able to land about 15 interviews. Of those 15 interviews, I was offered only one position with a company that provided no benefits, no sick pay, no vacation, and paid 25% less than I had been making. I took that job.

A year later, I’m still working for that same company; barely making ends meet and hoping that I never have the need to visit a doctor. From what I still see on the job boards, not much has changed in the job market. So for now, I’m kinda stuck here.

I know I should be grateful that I’m no longer unemployed, but sometimes I think the Universe is laughing at me. Today, I stopped into Circle K after work to pick up a snack. While waiting in line, a brand new, $40k, white Ford Explorer, with custom chrome rims, pulls up in front of the store. A young man gets out of the driver side wearing a white-on-white, flat-brimmed Yankees cap (spun to the side), a white tank top, and white jeans sagging below his ass, exposing his boxer shorts. He’s is in the middle of a call on his cell phone as he walks into the store. Not bothering to lower his voice, he gets in line behind me and continues his conversation about his new job:

Yeah, dog… I been had my orientation already. … Word, dog! … Yeah I’m just waitin’ on my fuckin’, uh fuckin’ ummmm National Security Clearance badge n’ shit! … Yeah, dog, I was scurred bout dat shit too cuz my credit is fucked up, and dey look at dat shit! … Yeah dey check yo record too, dog! … Nah, I ain’t got no felonies, dog! … Nah, man I wasn’t convicted fo dat shit, and dey lowered the charge on dat other shit, so I’m cool, yo. … Yeah, so once I get my clearance badge, I’ll be workin’ up at The Honeywells n’ shit.”

Now I have no idea what position this young man landed with “The Honeywells,” but I do know that while I was unemployed, I applied to Honeywell multiple times for an Office Administrator position, and they didn’t even respond to my resume. I also applied to the Scottsdale Police Department as a Dispatcher, and I didn’t pass their background check because of a past-due credit card from college 14 years ago. Apparently National Security Clearance isn’t as strict as Scottsdale PD.

Young man, best of luck to you in your new career.


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Sea Lions, Whales & Babies… Oh My!


This past weekend, I went to San Diego to visit my sister. It also just happened to be the 36th anniversary of my journey from the womb to um… about a foot outside the womb. To celebrate that momentous occasion, my sister treated me to a day at Sea World.

We did everything Sea World had to offer except for the rides (I get sick.) We saw the dolphin show, the otters and sea lions, the Sesame Street 4D movie (a 3D movie where they spray you with water), the sharks, the piranhas, and a slew of other fascinating sea creatures. Of course we also saw Shamu; or as we like to call him, “Shmoo”. In fact, we enjoyed the first show so much, we stayed for the evening show as well. All in all, we spent 10 hours at Sea World and returned home with monster sunburns. Well worth it!

Baby Making Department:

In other news, my best friend and his wife just had a baby! Out of respect for their privacy, I won’t post any images or use any names. Let’s just say he’s small, and cute, and undoubtedly human. Sorry, aliens… not this time!!!

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The Collector

I’ve never been much of a collector. I think it’s because I never focused my interest on any one thing long enough to amass a collection of anything. Sure, I made attempts: When I was younger, I thought it would be fun to collect polished stones from random places based on the color of that region’s handicapped parking spaces. I quickly realized that handicapped spaces only came in blue and green, and my collection soon came to an end. I also tried my hand at collecting state quarters; about 40 of which I found in one shot while going though loose change. I made it up to Hawaii, and somehow lost another state along the way. Now I have a book of 48 state quarters sitting on my shelf collecting dust.

Over the past few months, almost surreptitiously, I have accumulated a new collection. I’m not sure if I should be proud of it or ashamed, but I now have 20 t-shirts. It’s not an addiction, and I don’t think I’m out of control, but I have no intention of stopping and I’d rob my own mother to get money to pay for more.

My favorite part about shirt.woot is random shirt day, where you receive 3 completely random shirts. They’re usually shirts I would never pick for myself, but end up looking nice anyway. It’s like being forced to step out of my comfort zone one t-shirt at a time.

Anyway, below is my collection of woot shirts. If there are more than 20, it’s because the gallery will update automatically as I add more to my collection. Soon I will have them all!!!

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Welcome to Subway!


Holy shit that scared me!

I looked around to respond to the man who shouted, but there was only one woman behind the counter.

Another customer walked through the door, an alarm beeped, and from the back office, out bellowed another “WELCOME TO SUBWAY!!!”

As I did seconds earlier, the startled person behind me looked around like an idiot, as if God just spoke to him, and responded tentatively, “Thank you?”

What the fuck is this? I’m noticing that a lot of businesses are adopting this corporate-mandated, exuberant, immediate greeting as customers walk through the door, and frankly, I don’t get it. Whatever it is, I’m sure it all started with some sort of customer service, brain-storming, focus group, initiative bullshit session: “How about we greet everyone as soon as they walk in the store. They hire retards to do it at Walmart, and look how well they’re doing. So we should do it too!”

When I used to sell cars, one of the managers had dinner at TGI Fridays for his birthday, and he thought because the waiters sang Happy Birthday to him, that we should sing to our customers when they buy a car. After the first deal of day, the manager called the entire sales staff into the showroom, and we all gathered around the unsuspecting customer. Then the Manager, clearly oblivious to the customer’s discomfort, proceeded to lead us all in a chorus of, “We sold you a car! We sold you a car! You’re gonna go far! You’re gonna go far! We sold you a c…”

Before we could finish our song, the terrified customer bolted up out of his seat, jumped into his old car, and sped off the lot.

We found out later that customer was extremely racist and didn’t appreciate the black manager patting him on the back and singing in his face, but still, it didn’t excuse our absurd attempt to “enhance” the customer experience.

The bottom line is, great customer service isn’t achieved with songs or mandated greetings. It comes from actually caring about the customer. If you want your employees to be friendly, hire friendly people instead of hiring miserable people and trying to train them to act friendly. Shouting out greetings at inappropriate levels from the back office doesn’t make people feel welcome or comfortable. It just scares the crap out them; not to mention how ridiculously disingenuous it is. You may as well scream, “I’M FORCED TO SHOUT WHEN YOU WALK IN!!!” I’d at least respect you for your honesty.

By the way… the mystery man who shouted “Welcome to Subway!!!” never even came out from the back.

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Nostalgic Poo

Ok, this may be a bit gross, but have you ever taken a poo and have the odor remind you of some place or time from your past?

No? Neither have I. I was just checking.

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Eric “Five Fingers” Schneider


Every so often you come across a product that exceeds all your expectations and makes you want to tell everyone how awesome it is. To qualify for such a prestigious honor, the product must be perfect (for you) in both form and function. It must meet every single advertised claim plus add some unforeseen value to either your life or the lives of others. The item cannot be something you received as a gift even if you specifically asked for it, because part of the ownership experience is the sense of pride you feel to have had the wherewithal, savvy, and foresight to have purchased the item in the first place. I might even go as far as to say you should also have paid full retail price for it, because buying it on sale reduces the risk of disappointment should it turn out to be less than you hoped it would be. You need to be 100% committed to this product from the get-go in order to feel the full force of the joy it gives back. This is such a rare occurrence, I can’t think of any other product I currently own that lives up to such high accolades. In fact, the last time I felt like this was when they came out with extra small condoms!

So what is it that has me all a hootin’ and a hollerin’? Well, I’m assuming you’re not a complete moron and that you’ve read the title already, and know what it is. For the less observant, it’s my new, super-fantastic Vibram Five Fingers barefoot shoes!!! Here they are in all their footy glory.


Wait! Don’t go anywhere! Lemme splain! These shoes are, hands down, the best things I ever put on my feet! But enough hype… let’s get down to the meat and potatoes! Or should I say feet and my-ten-toes?!?! HA! I crack myself up.

I discovered Vibram Five Fingers while searching the Internet for shoes to wear when I do my yoga video. I’d find myself sliding all over the carpet if I tried to do it barefoot. I could get better traction with my running shoes, but they just felt too bulky for yoga. So, I did an image search for “yoga shoes” and there they were. Like many of you, I said, “What the fuck are those things?!?!”

A few clicks later, I ended up at the Vibram Five Fingers website where I learned about the potential benefits of barefoot living. They claim that being barefoot stimulates the muscles in your feet and lower legs, and will not only make you stronger and healthier, but also improve your balance, agility and proprioception. (I have no clue what that last word means, and I’m not even going to bother looking it up.) They also suggest that being barefoot helps align the spine and improve posture. I have lower back pain, and If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I have at least one distant relative who used to live in a bell tower, so they had my attention.

Vibram makes a few different Five Finger styles for all types of activities from Yoga to running to hiking. Aside from a very thin rubber sole to protect your feets from abrasions and road debris, they are as close as you can get to being barefoot. There’s no arch support, no cushioning, and no stabilizing ankle support. All the features you would expect to find in any athletic shoe are nowhere to be found. So how then can they possibly be comfy? How can you run long distances in them? And how do you not cut your feet on pointy or sharp things? I don’t know how, but they are, you can, and if you don’t walk on glass or nails, you don’t.

I didn’t purchase a pair right away. In my mind, I was still skeptical and saw them as more of a novelty than a viable option. At best, they’d be limited to yoga duty and would never see the light of day. With a price point between $80 and $100 bucks, I wasn’t in any hurry to snag a pair either. After a few more frustrating yoga sessions, however, I found myself back on the Internet trying to justify the purchase.

I read some independent reviews and almost all of them mentioned reduced joint and knee pain when running. This was a huge selling point since I have one bad knee, and one worse knee. It was also the additional motivation I needed to go try on a pair.

I headed over to my local REI and tried on the three models they had in stock starting with the cheapest. The first two, the Classic and the Sprint, did not really impress. The Classic, which has no straps, felt like they would fall off during any type of exercise, and the strap on the Sprint cut into my foot. Other than the uncomfortable strap, however, I really liked how the shoe felt. Then, I tried on the KSO’s and it was like my feet finally found their sole-mates. I wore them out of the store that day and haven’t taken them off since (other than to go to sleep and to wash them). Yes you have to wash them, because you don’t wear socks with them, and they can start to smell after a week or two of heavy exercise and all-day wear.

After a little over three weeks of use, I have greatly improved my yoga skills, and I can honestly say that my knees and back feel noticeably better during high impact exercise. I’m not going to pretend these shoes have healed me (praise Jesus), but when you live in pain all the time, any improvement is huge. I really believe they’re helping me build up the supporting muscles that surround my problem areas and alleviate the pressure in those places. But who knows… that can be complete bullshit and just the incremental improvements from my exercise program. All I know is physically, I feel better than I have in a really long time, and my new podiatric pals seem to be part of the reason.

I already bought a second pair.

Feel free to share your personal experience with a super spectacular life changing product.

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Manscaping Fail

I’ve never been an avid supporter of manscaping. Every now and then I’ll take the clippers to the ole sackaroo, but for the most part, I like to kick it old school. To me, there’s something kinda unmanly about it. If it were up to me, I would do away with this whole male primping and shaving and waxing and spiking and frosting and styling that seems to have taken hold of our country. I have a feeling, however, that unlike bell bottoms, hairy dudes aren’t going to be making a come back any time soon.

Anyway, have you ever seen those before and after photos of men who started exercise programs? Day 1 is always sad, pale, fat, hairy guy. Day 90 is happy, tan, shaved body guy. Always. No exceptions. But why do the guys always end up shaving their bodies? I’m going to tell you exactly how that happens.

Since October of last year, I’ve been exercising and eating healthy. So far I dropped nearly 50lbs and put on a little bit of muscle. Thank you, thank you! I know… I’m awesome. Needless to say, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time in front of the mirror flexing, touching, prodding, pressing, and measuring (yeah even that too). This weekend, I started wondering what I really looked like under all this body hair. Are there pecs where my man-boobs used to rest? Can I possibly have an ab or two? For answers to these pressing questions I turned to my trusty Norelco Bodygroom and went to town on my chest, belly, arms and nether-regions. I was going to do my back as well, but by the time I was done with the front, I was too horrified to continue.

First of all, my body hasn’t seen the sun in literally 7 or 8 years. Maybe longer. My bare chest and belly are beyond pale. If I were somehow attempt to get some color in my skin, I would have to do it in some secluded place where I couldn’t blind other people. The only scenario where I could see myself getting a tan would be to do some shirtless work in someone’s back yard while they’re away on vacation. I would be open to a tanning booth if it didn’t give you nut cancer, and if I weren’t so vocal about how douchey it is for dudes to go tanning salons.

Ceiling MonsterThe second thing I realized when I was done grooming was the fact that my hair covered a network of ugly stretch marks across my midsection. I’m convinced that the hair acted as some sort of stabilizer or gave my belly more structure than it apparently has now. All of a sudden, I went from hairy guy with a little gut to someone who looks like they spent 10 weeks on the Biggest Loser Ranch with all the loose skin and a deformed belly button. When I bend at the waist, my stomach looks like one of those ceiling monsters from Half Life.

Shaving my arms was also the dumbest thing to do. It seemed like a good idea at the time because the hair on my wrists was covering my watch and it was hard to see what time it was. But after a day, I had 5 o’ clock shadow on my forearms and now it’s itchier than… than… I don’t know… something really itchy.

This wasn’t the first time I ever attempted a major manscaping project, but it was the first time I was surprised by what I uncovered. Like the first time I got my hair cut short after my hairline started receding: I just looked in the mirror and thought, “Holy crap! You’re old.”

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M-Audio Is My Favorite Company

They say that the sun shines on a dog’s ass every once in a while. I’m not exactly sure I know what that means, nor do I know who “they” are, but I’m pretty sure my ass just got exposed to some sunshine.

A few weeks ago I purchased a “gently used” M-Audio MobilePre Audio Interface off of eBay. It’s really not important to know what it is, but you can click on that link and check it out if you want. Feel free to buy it too… I’ll make some money if you do.

Anyway, I paid $75 dollars for it, and had to wait about 4 weeks for the jackhole to ship it to me. When it finally came in the mail, guess what? Exactly! It didn’t work. You’re very smart!

I emailed the seller and received the standard response: “It was working when I sent it to you. You probably forgot to plug it in, retard. Go F yourself.” (I’m paraphrasing).

So I went to M-Audio’s website to see if anyone else was experiencing the same issue. I thought perhaps I was forgetting one vital step to get it functioning properly. I found a post from someone who seemed to have the same problem, but there was no resolution. Feeling dejected, ripped off, and totally horse F’ed, I left a feeble comment at the end of the thread simply asking if anyone figured out a solution.

Well, within hours, a representative from M-Audio responded to my message letting me know he would send me a FedEx air bill in the mail so I could ship it back for a replacement. I told him I bought it used off of eBay, only paid $75 dollars for it, and I didn’t have the original receipt. He said not to worry about it, and two weeks later, I have a brand new, in the wrapper, M-Audio MobilePre!

That may have been the best non-face-to-face customer service experience I have ever had in my life. I have to specify non-face-to-face because I’ve been to a Mexican strip club, and they take customer service to a completely different level.

So, thank you Paul from M-Audio, and suck it Mr. Ebay Seller!

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Don’t Forget To Ask For It By Name

If you’re not familiar with, I strongly recommend making it one of your daily blogs to follow. Essentially their articles follow the format: “Did you know you could use this to help you do that?”

“This” can range from a piece of computer software to a skateboard, duct tape, and a camera tripod. And “that” could be anything from organizing your appointments to making your own camera rig to photograph insects.

Anyway, today I found a post about how to handle a kitchen knife to reduce the chances of stabbing yourself or severing fingers. That post linked to the source article which went into more detail and also recommended a few kitchen knife brands. I did a double-take when I saw that one of the brands was called “F. Dick.”

Now, I’m sure if you’re knowledgeable about cutlery, you’ve heard of F. Dick before, but for the rest of us (well the rest of us with the mentality of a 12yr. old) it’s comedy gold!

I immediately Googled the brand to see how much their knives were. If they were reasonably priced, guess who was going to be the proud new owner of a genuine F. Dick knife?!?! Me, that’s who!!! What could possibly be more fun, or more juvenile than to show off my new F. Dick to all my friends?

Well, I’ll tell you what could be more fun, and more juvenile, and ridiculously more expensive…

Showing off my new 30lb F. Dick Manual Sausage Stuffer!!!


Some things just make life worth living.

click to view larger image

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Ads for Ads

Well the Super Bowl is over, the New Orleans Saints won, the devastation from Katrina can finally be put behind us, and the best part is I won’t have to hear about Fantasy Football for at least 7 months. Once again, the world seems balanced.

I didn’t get to watch the game as I was being a good little worker bee and finishing up a freelance web design project. I’m pretty excited, because it’s my very first legitimate client that’s paying me with money, not food. So, pat pat on the back for yours truly.

When I was done being a responsible grown-up, I popped over to hulu to see if there were any new shows in my queue. It was empty, but they did have all the Super Bowl ads posted. Although as a general rule I hate advertising, like many other Americans, I look forward to watching the Super Bowl ads. It’s the one time during the year where advertisers deviate a little from the norm and show off their creativity.

This year’s submissions were nothing to write home about, although I did like the Google ad and the CareerBuilder Casual Friday ad. By far, the worst was a 13 minute short film called “Hotel Hell Vacation” with Chevy Chase and Beverly D’Angelo, resurrecting their roles as Clark and Ellen Griswold. They stay at a hotel, get a really small room, receive bad service, and then are charged lots of crazy fees when they check out. That’s about it. I’m not even sure exactly what it was supposed to be about, or if there was a sponsor somewhere in the film. All I know is it sucked huge sack.

What struck me as both strange and frustratingly annoying was the fact that the ads had ads. The page itself had the Coke logo on it, and before every other clip or so, I had to hear “The following clip is brought to you by Coca-Cola. Open happiness.” I was planning on making this post a giant rant about advertising, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. I’m just mad because if you’re going to voluntarily subject yourself to 61 commercials, it should be without commercial interruption. Except for the commercials. You know what I mean!