Colossal Computer Cluster

Now that's a scary 3 headed monster!

In today’s uncertain economic conditions, mergers, buyouts, takeovers, and consolidations are all the rage. There seems to be an excessive amount of computer manufacturers in the market and maybe it’s time for some of them to just go away or to join forces. It’s all about economies of scale and being able to make more money with less resources right? So chew on this hypothetical situation…..

Just imagine if the computer giants Hewlett Packard, Dell, and Lenovo joined forces. The first task would be to come up with a new company name.

Hewlett Packard + Dell + Lenovo = Hell-Novo!

Aha! A new mass clusterfication of computer manufacturing power is born!

The next thing in line would have to be the marketing plan. The slogan would be an important part of the planning for product deployment.

Potential Slogan #1: Is there a better computer out there? Hell-Novo!

Potential Slogan #2: Does the competition come close to matching our quality? Hell-Novo!

Potential Slogan #3: Can you get a better computer for the price? Hell-Novo!

Development of some catch phrases would be needed to complement the new slogan.

Potential Catch Phrase #1: Hell-Novo! , Hell Yea!

Potential Catch Phrase #2: Fix It? Hell-Novo! It’s the Best!

Potential Catch Phrase #3: Computer Died? Oh Well, Just go to Hell-Novo!

Next up on the list would be hiring a spokesperson.  John Belushi would be a natural fit (if he was still alive). Can you hear it? A modified version of his “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor” speech in Animal House…..Imagine an enraged Belushi spewing out “The computer war isn’t over until we decide it is. Was it over when Apple introduced the iPad? Hell-Novo! …..and it ain’t over now.” The thought of this sends chills down my spine.

This scenario is highly unlikely to happen, but just imagine the possibilities. Just imagine the Super Bowl commercials…..WOW! That would be entertainment! The potential is epic and the results could be legendary or it could just go down in flames from the clusterfication it would cause. Either way it would be extremely interesting to see how it all played out. HP, Dell, and Lenovo! Please think this over!

Half-Baked Fill Up

Dude, we are so high.....

My gas light came on during my afternoon jaunt home.  I stopped by one of the local small town stop n’shop type places to refill. The pumps were all pre-pay so I had to run inside. As I was walking into the store to pay I heard a voice yell “Hey man, what do you know about this gas station?” I turned around to answer my interrogator. I thought to myself “they sell gas, duh” but just responded with a “What?” As I turned around I saw a Justin Bieber-esque high school boy running at me with a blank look in his eyes and a confused look on his face. He ran up to me and again the questioning began. “Hey maaaaaan, do you know if they have good gas here? I bought some gas in town last week and it only lasted half as long as usual. I think it was baaaaaad.” I wasn’t sure what to say, I had previously bought gas at the station he was bashing as well as the one I happened to stop at on this very day. I responded “I haven’t had any issues with gas from either place, not sure what the problem is.” By this time I noticed a certain aroma about him that was very distinct. I thought the guy was a dumbass, it turns out he was a high dumbass. He carried on: “I think I have a hole in my gas tank, this only happened one time, but there has to be a hole.” The only thing with a hole was his logic or lack thereof. Most likely what happened was the moron only filled up halfway hence the mileage was half of the usual amount.  I walked in the store and carried on with my business. I grabbed a pop and headed to the register. The dope smoking Bieber doppelganger was in line in front of me. He paid for his gas and walked out. The clerk laughed “he is so baked; he doesn’t know what’s going on. He asked me some crap about if we have good gas.” So we both watched him walk out to his car and get in. The clerk looked at me and muttered “I bet he drives off, just watch.” So we did, and he drove off. He paid for the gas but forgot to pump it. We stood there and laughed. Someone pulled in to the pump right after he left. I guess someone got some free gas. Here are my thoughts on the whole thing: If you want to get high and kill brain cells at home, whoopdi-frickin-doo-da, good for you! Fry your fricken mind, just don’t do it around me, and for God’s sake, don’t drive. The world doesn’t need more idiots. Hey! Do you want fries with that? If you can remember that question you have a bright future as a fry cook…..nice job SpongeBob SquarePants! Not everyone can be a rocket scientist; you’re just sealing the deal. Today scared me a bit and reinforced my views on the younger generations…..I have seen the future and the future is f-u-c-t! Yes, I know its spelled wrong, just sound it out!

The Legend of Jonitalia

Some rules just weren't
meant to be broken...

This is the story of the origin of one of my favorite insults, or at least the way I think I remember it. The actual events are foggy, but it went down something like this. Jon was this infamous guy around my circle of friends growing up. He was most notorious for doing stupid shit and just plain being a dick when doing it. As with most late-teen/early twenty something males we enjoyed coming up with original insults to call each other……the usual names got old after a while. There was a lot of beer consumed (and unfortunately spilled) around the backyard bonfire laughing at and insulting each other.  There was some air of social status that you received for coming up with the most disgusting and vile insult possible. It was like English class, except you were getting graded on improper grammar and inappropriate additions to the English language. The highest scores went to those who came up with the most disgusting, x-rated, stomach-turning, and pseudo-sophisticated words. It seemed like the goal was to come up with something legendary and epic that was adopted into the everyday language of the social group. So, one weekend, we were killing a few cases of brew around the bonfire in my buddy’s back yard. Jon was being his usual self, and one of my other buddies had to let him know….”Dude! You are such a dick! The male genitalia should be named after you. Damn it Jonitalia!”…..and the insult was born. From there on out every body’s name was turned into “italia”. Jonitalia, Zackitalia, Mattitalia, Chrisitalia……and the list went on. This was the impetus of something huge! This happened nearly fifteen years ago and is still in the vocabulary of my friends to this day. Remember, when someone is being a dick, and you want a more sophisticated  way of letting them know it, just add “italia” to the end of their first or last name. So, if you hear your name, and it sounds like “italia” has been added to the end, there is someone out there telling you that you are being a dick. Don’t be a dick, it’s just not cool.

Archimedes Don’t Know Jack

Look! It floats!

I was giving my son a bath one weeknight. Being the “Mr. Inquisitive” that he is, he always asks me interesting and intriguing questions on the wonders of the world around us, how things work, why things happen, etc. My son looked up at me with the usual “here comes a question” look, pointed to his nether-region and made the following announcement: “Hey dad! Look! My junk floats! Hey, why does my junk float in the tub?” So how the hell do you explain that one? I didn’t really answer; I was flabbergasted.  Actually I was just laughing really hard and couldn’t stop. After the bath, I consulted with my wife, the chemist, who reminded me of good old Archimedes and his many scientific discoveries. Ding-dong, my bell was rung, and it started coming back to me…..my CRS (can’t remember shit) syndrome went into remission for a bit and visions of college chemistry and physics flashed through my head. Here’s a brief bio for those of you that also may have forgotten or who may have never heard of this Greek geek. Archimedes was a Greek mathematician who lived from 287 B.C. to 212 B.C. He was a pretty smart dude and super advanced for his time. Of his many advancements to the scientific world, one of the most famous, was the Archimedes’ Principle. This stated that a body immersed in a fluid, water in this case, experiences a buoyant force equal to the fluid that is displaced. The story goes that one day he noticed that the water level rose when he got in the tub. He used this observation of water displacement to discern that the king’s crown was truly solid gold…..if you’ve never heard the story, look it up! Remember this…..He didn’t discover buoyancy and the water displacement stuff until his adulthood. My son made this discovery at the age of five. Archimedes ain’t got shit on my son. 

A Letter to my Crackberry

Kill your Crackberry

before it kills you!

Dear Crackberry,

F-you! I didn’t want you but you eventually found me. You were once annoying but you are now the lifeline to my work life and all things electronic. Both of my thumbs now ache from constantly using and abusing you. You have stupid games that numb my mind and entertain my kids. I carry you in my front pocket and you decide to vibrate or ring at the most inopportune times….like when I am taking a leak. It scares the crap out of me every time. Never fail….I’m peeing and you’re going off. When it happens, I think “why is my junk ringing and vibrating?….Oh wait, it’s just you Crackberry…you got me again.” I can’t take a crap without checking my email. I need to change my email signature to state “sent from my Crackberry while sitting on the middle stall crapper.”  Actually the phone should do that for me….it is a smart phone right? Somehow it knows when I’m peeing, it should know when I’m on the can, in the shower, watching a movie…..whatever the most inopportune time may be. You get stuck deep in my pocket and start going off when I am driving. You drive me insane to the point where I have to check your latest updates. I finally get you out of my pocket after swerving all over the road then you stop. Do you have a death wish? I do not. Is old age getting to you? Have you reached that magic age of six months, you know the age of obsolescence for all things electronic? Tell me if you’ve had enough living, I’ll step on you and put you out of your misery. I’ll stomp your miserable QWERTY keys out of your sorry USB port hole. Thanks to you and your kind I have learned to read and type the language of illiterate idiots, yes you know…..texting. I can now check the scores of my favorite team and the teams I hate, if I have signal that is. For some reason, I can stand right next to the cell phone tower and you have no bars. I can be in B.F.E. and you work like a champ. What the hell Crackberry? So I drop you, let my kids and dog play with you, and constantly scroll your trackball,  is that reason to treat me this way? I think not. I have now become addicted to your technological delights….and what do I have to say to this?…..”F-you Crackberry!, F-you indeed!”

Warmest Regards,  

Your Addicted Owner

The Center of the Table-verse

The Dharma Initiative couldn't
figure this out either.....

There is a strange force that acts upon my children when they are eating. It is scary, freaky, age-specific, and cannot be explained by science.  It is something that belongs in an M.Night Shyamalan movie or on the island on Lost.  This unknown force has power over my kid’s plates, cups, and silverware. This force only shows up during meal and snack times. The plates, bowls, etc. always start off directly in front of them but mysteriously move to the very end of arm’s reach as they eat. There is some strange attraction pulling things to the center of the counter top and the dinner table.

We are usually alerted to the movement too late, typically noticing the food trail directly in front of the kids. Their arms are usually outstretched as far as possible and they are dropping food all the way from their plates to their mouths. We try to move things back in front of the kids but…..BAM! In the blink of an eye, things move back to the center of the table. There is no way to control it. This phenomenon constantly results in half the food making it to their pie holes and a miserable demise for the rest, often plummeting to its doom when it meets the tile floor.

I have observed this force has less power over my children as they get older, it seems to decay exponentially, but is always present at any age, hence the reason I miss my mouth when eating. We unfortunately cannot completely escape the grasp of this force but we learn to overcome it as best we can as we grow older. Some adults obviously have had better luck than others. There are those who do not bare the mark and those who constantly wear the mark of ill-fated food on their cloths. Some of us can escape the grasp of this supernatural phenomenon and some of us are less lucky. The only way to minimize the effect of this force is constant nagging and correcting of your children. If you fail to do so they will be destined for a life of food stained cloths, and the force will never loosen its demonic grasp. You may be screwed, but there is still hope for your children.

Hits on the Bong

That's heavy man...........

I was dating my wife (girlfriend at the time) for about a month and got some bug up my butt to take her to my home town to meet my parents.  We arrived on a Saturday morning that just so happened to be my sister’s birthday. Big plans were in the works to go out and celebrate at one of those Asian-themed, fill-up your bowl, we’ll grill it for you, you eat it type of restaurants. We arrived at the restaurant and took our seats. The restaurant had a big gong that they would hit for birthdays and special occasions. My mom took notice and yelled to my sister “Hey, maybe they’ll hit the bong for you! Go see if you can hit the bong!” All of us just about fell out of our chairs we were laughing so hard.  My mom looked at us and blurted out a confused “What! What’s so funny?”  It took a while but I finally stopped laughing and tried to explain the faux pas. Before I could spit out my explanation my future wife proceeded to set the story straight “That’s a gong, not a bong. You smoke dope with a bong, you make crashing noises with a gong.” Now that wasn’t the end of the conversation. Mom had to do a round-robin interrogation clockwise around the table starting with my girlfriend; after all she did explain the difference between a bong and a gong. “Have you ever hit a bong? Have you ever hit a bong? Have you ever hit a…..oh never mind?”  Needless to say, my wife’s introduction to my parents was un-fricken-forgettable and dinner was definitely the high point of the trip.

Who Farted?

Don't you hate being on a
crowded elevator?

Have you ever farted in an elevator full of people? This is the most opportune time to fart in an elevator…..when it’s jam-packed, and people can barely move. This creates utter chaos, but there is one interesting observation that can be made. If you break wind in a confined space such as a full elevator it becomes very hard to identify the perpetrator of the crime. This is known as the Principle of Farter’s Anonymity or POFA. The POFA states that when in a crowded area, the farter can release gas in close vicinity of the fartees, and due to the large number of people in that area, the fartees will not be able to pinpoint and distinguish the farter. This results in blameless (not shameless) relief for the farter. This principle can be applied in all sorts of environments such as restaurants, bars, movies, waiting rooms, the library, church, and the shopping mall. So if you are somewhere with just a few people, and you have to fart, hold it in. If you are somewhere full of people, let it fly. Just remember to let it out slowly so it is silent. No one will ever know it was you. There is one thing that will immediately place blame on the farter (whether they did it or not) and cause the principle to backfire. Never announce “Who Farted?” This results in immediate invocation of the He Who Smelt It Dealt It rule and immediately assigns blame to that person. Some things to remember: 1) If you have to fart in a crowded public place, let it out slow, 2) Never acknowledge the fact that you did fart, let someone else take the blame for the stink, and 3) Try your hardest not to shart, that is a dead giveaway.

Who Wants Nachos?

Everyone likes nachos....right?

I was in a co-ed service fraternity in college. We did a lot of stuff like Habitat for Humanity, Meals on Wheels, Big Brothers/Big Sisters, and the list went on. We still did a lot of social things but needed to earn money to cover the expenses. We got in contact with the local major league soccer team stadium office in search of money making opportunities. They had a deal where they would pay groups two thousand dollars to clean up the stadium after home games and concerts. We immediately thought that this would be easy money since the games were never more than half full. So we got on the list and waited for opportunity. We eventually go called to see if we were still interested. The funds were running low so we signed up. Little did we know, the game we landed was a World Cup qualifier between the USA and Mexico in early March.

We arrived at the stadium towards the end of the game. We looked around in awe and amazement…..standing room only. The stadium was filled to capacity, and the crowed was insane. Things were nuckin futs! I think it was the first sell-out crowed the stadium ever had. To make things worse it was in the high-thirties and getting colder by the minute. Needless to say, half of the group that was supposed to help didn’t show, so it was going to be a long night. Things finally cleared out and we got to work.

We decided to divide and conquer. I took part of the upper deck and starting picking trash. I made it a few rows. I reached down to pick up a beer bottle and found a twenty dollar bill. I said to myself “Awesome! Beer money for the weekend." I yelled to one of my buddies across the stadium “I found twenty bucks!” My buddy yelled back “I found an unopened beer, the cap is still sealed, I’m gonna drink it.” I immediately thought “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” and kept picking trash.

I continued around the upper bowl of the stadium and made it to the same side one of my other buddies. By this time I had stumbled onto another ten bucks for a total of thirty for the night. I yelled down to my buddy on the lower deck “Hey loser! I found thirty bucks, did you find anything?” I was expecting something like “F-you” in return but there was no response. Then I heard, “Dude.  Hey dude, look down here a minute.” I responded “Gimme a minute” and walked down the steps to upper level railing and looked down.

My buddy was standing below me pointing at a nacho tray on the ground. “Hey, what does this look like to you?” I looked down and responded “Is it a cigar? Looks like a big old stogie, I think I see smoke.” My friend yelled back “Dude! What the hell do you mean cigar? It’s not a cigar; someone took a crap in a nacho tray! This is frickin disgusting…..I think I’m gonna puke…. it’s still steaming.” I yelled down to add some insult to injury “I found thirty bucks…..hahahah!” All I heard back was “You are lucky that you’re not down here, I’d dip this in the left over cheese and shove it in your pie hole.” I started laughing hysterically and walked away.

In the end, I shared the spoils of my find with my buddies. We went to one of the local watering holes for a few rounds the following weekend. I still couldn’t stop laughing at my buddy who had issued the turd alert at the stadium. I looked at him and said “That night kinda felt like Christmas ……I was the good kid and got a surprise that was awesome and you were the bad  kid who got coal, or in this case a big steaming pile of crap.”

You’re Suing Me for What?

Make sure you always have a
good lawyer.....don't hire a stooge.

I ran a red light in college and hit a nice old lady in her nice little Acura. No, there was no alcohol involved, just some exhaustion from working a long shift the day previous.  The lady was in her 70’s, and I felt pretty crappy about what had happened. I admitted I was fully at fault. We got to have all sorts of fun with the insurance lawyers. The proposed settlement from my insurance company apparently was not enough, so the woman and her husband decided to sue for more money; i.e. cashito, moolah, samoleans, smackers, whatever you want to call it.

We met with the lawyer representing my insurance company once the lawsuit was official. We sat down and reviewed what additional things they thought were lawsuit worthy. Now from what I understood, the car needed some serious repair, and the nice old lady had whiplash which resulted in some medical bills. We continued down the list. One of the last items on the list was loss of conjugal privileges.  Of course I had to hold up the show and ask what that meant. I knew what it meant, but I wanted to hear the lawyer explain it with a straight face, and he did. Job well done Mr. Lawyer! I was then informed that you can sue someone for loss of hibbidy dibbidy, or the inability to make sweet lovin’, if you and/or your significant other were unable to get it on during the time you recovered from an accident such as a car crash.

Keep in mind that this couple was in their 70’s. They must have been horny buggers. Just the thought of…I can’t even write it….it just made me queasy.  I asked if this was a common line item. The lawyer stated that it was pretty common. He said “happens all the time and people are usually awarded money for it.” So remember, you can’t pay someone to bump uglies with you. It’s against the law. But you can sue for it, and that is perfectly legal.

From the World’s Biggest Leprechaun….



Man cannot live on bread alone,
that is why the Irish made Guinness.

Happy St. Patrick's Day! It's time for green beer and lots of Guinness goodness. Drink up! It’s the one day of the year when everyone can pretend to be Irish. Ever see a 300 pound Ukrainian Leprechaun? Look to the left. Go out, have fun, be careful, and be sure to protect your Blarney Stone and lucky charms.

Hair Where?

Butwheat say
ohhhh-tay

There are things about getting older that no one likes. I’ve noticed that hair has started popping up in places where it never grew….nose, ears, unibrow, etc. One recent morning looked in the mirror and was shocked at what was coming out of my nose. I looked like some coke head that snorted Buckwheat feet first and got him lodged in my sinus cavity. Holy crap! Where did this stuff come from? I turned my head when I was shaving only to notice a frickin dandelion-like clump of hair coming out of my ears. You know where they can film the sequel to Horton Hears a Who?……IN MY EAR HAIR! That’s where.  Come to think of it, that may explain the occasional voices I hear when no one is around….I have Whos in my ear hair. My barber started trimming my ear hair and eyebrows, unibrow and all, without even asking. I always give her a weird look and she always says “What? Trust me; your wife will appreciate it.” Come to think of it, I do get the occasional comment from my wife of how much better I look with two eyebrows. Maybe I should thank my barber.

Revenge of the Nerd

Nerds!!!

In 1992 I was a sophomore in high school. I was one of the bigger kids in my class as well as the school. I was 6’3” and 270 pounds, and yes I played football. I was in gym class and having some fun flirting with the ladies. My hometown had just built a new high school with a kick-ass field house. There was a set of double steel doors leading from the locker room into the field house. I was pushing on one of the doors, giving the hot chick on the other side a hard time and not letting her through. I wasn’t paying very much attention to the other door at the time, obviously side tracked by the hot chick. At the same time the biggest nerd in the school was coming down the hall to the field house. This guy was dweebus maximus. He was so wimpy he couldn’t bench press the curl bar (25 pounds) one time in gym class.

Little did I know, he was running full speed at the door to the field house. He hit the push bar on the door and BOOM! …..the second door flew open and CRACK! …..nailed me in right smack in the middle of my right eyebrow. Everything went black for a few moments, then there were lots of stars. I felt the warm trickle of blood running down my forehead. I wiped the blood from my eyebrow and looked up just in time to catch the biggest nerd in the school running the opposite direction as fast as he could. Somehow the biggest dork in school was able to bring down the biggest guy on the football team in one fell swoop. Kind of like David and Goliath but more like Pee Wee Herman and Mr. Incredible (before he lost the weight). Now, if there was no one else around to see this happen it would not have been a big deal, but, of course, a few of my buddies witnessed the whole thing. I look over and they were rolling on the floor laughing. I heard all sorts of stuff: “Dude! You just got knocked out by super nerd!”  “That doofus just rang your bell.” and “This needs to be on the morning announcements.”

I made my way down to the office and into the nurse’s station. I told her what had happened and she laughed. She found it so funny that she had to go get the principal. He looked at me, shook his head and walked away snickering. Then my football coach walked in, and the barrage continued. The story spread through the school like wildfire. The school called my dad to come pick me up. My dad showed up an hour later to take me to get some stitches. He had a shit-ass grin on his face the whole time. He didn’t ask much, just what happened and did I learn anything from the incident.  We left school and drove to the doctor. My dad just shook his head as the doctor stitched me up. I explained what happened to the both of them in great detail. The doctor looked at me and laughed “You know there are easier ways to impress women, and the door to the head from the biggest nerd in the school isn’t going to help the situation.” 

The nerd who split my head open avoided me the rest of the year. Every time I would see him in the hall he would go the other way. I finally ran into him at the end of the school year. I went up to him and apologized. He looked at me surprised. He was convinced I was going to kill him after what had happened. He was scared shitless. We smoothed things over, laughed a bit, and moved on. I did tell him that I would kick his ass if it ever happened again…….lucky for him, there was no gym class for the Juniors and I knew I would never run into him in the weight room.  To this day I am reminded of this incident when I look in the mirror. The scar is faint but every so often it catches my attention and brings back memories of the day that the biggest nerd in the school knocked me out.

Fuzzynuts Strikes Back

Monkeys throw poop, squirrels
throw nuts, nuts are harder.

What you are about to read is totally true, and.…totally nuts. There used to be a huge squirrel that I would always see sitting in a tree near where I worked. I would see him every day when I’d drive under his tree on the way to pick up some lunch. I named him Fuzzynuts since he was fuzzy and always eating walnuts in the tree. I would see Fuzzynuts a few times a week. He was a squirrel that liked to live on the wild side. Fuzzynuts must have been an adrenaline junky. He liked to run back and forth across the street, dodging traffic and causing drivers to swerve and slam on their breaks. Most days I would drive by slowly just in case the uber-rodent decided to run in front of my car. One day I was in a hurry to get lunch and make a meeting. Needless to say as I drove by his tree Fuzzynuts ran in front of my car. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t react fast enough and ran him over, or so I thought. On the way back from lunch I could see his big fat tail in the road. A few days later I was doing my usual lunch routine. It was a nice spring day so I had the sunroof open. I drove past the tree where Fuzzynuts used to reside. I heard a thump on the car. A walnut had fallen from the tree and hit the hood of my car. I didn’t think much of it, a walnut fell from a walnut tree and hit my car. It probably happens all the time, right? I drove under the tree on the way back to work and BONK! A walnut “fell” from the tree, through my open sunroof, and nailed me right on top of the head. I kept driving and rubbed the lump on my head. It was a pretty big goose egg. I glanced up into my rearview mirror. There, in the tree, was a tail-less squirrel staring me down. It was Fuzzynuts, the now tail-less squirrel! He had survived! Now some may say that everything was sheer coincidence. I beg to differ. To this day, I still think it was angry squirrel exacting his revenge on the person that had taken his tail.

What You Said, What I Heard, Vol.1

Bye bye money, you
will be missed

We took my daughter to Disney Princesses on Ice. This was reward for finally peeing on the potty. Yea! Potty training sucks. If you haven’t lived through it just wait, it is quite the experience. Anyways, we dropped eighty bucks on four frickin tickets. We get to the show, sit down, and there are carnie-folk selling stuff everywhere: princess hats, princess tiaras, princess cups of princess punch, princes swords (yes swords, they had to have something for the unlucky boys in the crowd), princess cotton candy, and so on…..there was princess crap everywhere. It wasn’t bad enough that there were these people selling this junk, but they were yelling all sorts of stuff. We heard a constant barrage of “Get your princess magic wands” and “Get your spinning princess light up thingies.” All I heard was “We are selling really cheap shit that will break as soon as you get it home, and your kids will scream like freaking maniacs because their junk no longer lights up because it is just junk.” Now of course there were all the parents who bought into the hype and bought their kids everything under the sun. We got an earful from our kids: “I want that! Can I have that? I’ve always wanted one of those, what is it?” The nagging went on for a while. The only thing I heard was “Dad, buy us this stuff so we can see how fast we can break it.” The show finally started, and we were OK until intermission. Intermission hit, and the army of “souvenir peddlers” made their advancement. We somehow made it through intermission and the remainder of the show unscathed. We got out to the parking lot and saw a kid screaming over a toy that broke when she dropped it on the asphalt. I looked over to see an angry parent looking to the sky waving to the twenty dollar bill that was flapping its princess fairy wings as it flew away to the land of “I should have never bought this crap.”  I walked away thinking “at least it wasn’t mine,” and realized we survived our first Princess on Ice show.

1000 Page Views!

As Elvis would say:
"Thank ya , thank ya
ver much."

I have reached 1/1000^th of my goal of 1 million (picture Dr. Evil doing the pinky thing) page views. The blog has gone international! Thank you for taking time to read through the stories and being part of the madness. Send me an email or leave me some comments if there are specific topics you want to see more of. If there are some funny stories from experiences we’ve shared and you want to see some posts revolving around them let me know……help me clean the cobwebs out of my head….my wife will thank you.  I have a bad case of CRS Syndrome…….Can’t Remember Shit.  And yes, I come down with the occasional case of Dumbassitis. Keep reading; share Random Thoughts by a Random Thinker with your friends and families. There is a shload (short for shit load) of funny stuff to come so stay tuned and spread the word.  

J and K Go to Taco Bell



Thank you, please drive thru...



Every college student at one point during their studies has an epic experience related to finding food in the middle of the night. This is one such story, one of legend and lore, that makes me smile every time I think of it.

It was a Friday night, like most Friday nights at most colleges and universities throughout the country. We were at the bar feeding our stomachs with the standard weekend liquid diet of beer, liquor, and maybe a little water mixed in. It was getting late, and the bar tender yelled “last call.” Then a little later we heard “get the hell out, we’re closed!” So we all headed out the door to sober up and get some shut eye. My buddy J and I starting walking back to our apartments.  We didn’t make it very far before the hunger hit. (My last name starts with K, hence the use of “K” for the stuff I said.)

K: “Dude, you hungry? I’m really fucking hungry”

J:  “Very, you want to snag some food?”

K: “Look, Rally’s is still open, well; at least the lights are still on.”

J: “I’m game, let’s go.”

We walked a few blocks and arrived at the front door of the restaurant……….

J: “Open the door, damn it!”

K: “Shit, it’s locked! The sign says the lobby closes at 2:00 am.”

J: ”What do we do now?”

K: “The drive-thru is still open, let’s walk through it and get some burgers to go.”

We stumbled over to the menu board leading into the drive through and started to order, slurring every word that came out………

K: “Hello? We want to get some burgers….I want two cheeseburgers, large fry, and…..”

Rally’s Guy: “Wait a minute, you guys need to be in a car, you have to be in a car to get served in the drive –thru.”

J: “C’mon man, sell us some food, the two of us are as big as a car!”

K: “We weigh as much as a Miata!”

Rally’s Guy: “Seriously, I can’t serve you, go somewhere else so I don’t have to call the cops. Look, Taco Bell is open all night. Go across the frickin street, and let me help customers with cars.”

We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and moved on to Taco Bell. We arrived at our last hope for food in the immediate vicinity and went in. The alcohol was really kicking in and it was getting harder to talk……….

K: “What you want?”

J: “I dunno, get me whatever you get.”

K: “I’m getting a nummer two comboooo.”

J: “That’s what your gonna get after eating here, a nummer two.  It’ll prolly smell jus like the food tooooo.”

Taco Bell Guy: “Can I take your order?"

K: Gimme me a nummer two wit sof tacsos, and two chill-chee burrtos, and….and ...and some nachooos with a shload of chee. Give him the saaaame thingy. Did that come out ok? I am reeeeeeely deeerunk”

Taco Bell Guy: “Two numbers two’s, two chilli –cheese burritos, and two nachos with extra cheese, is that right?”

K: “Yes, I’m perty sure that’s it.”

We stood at the end of the counter waiting on our food when J alerted me that someone was watching us by tapping my shoulder and pointing across the restaurant……….

J: “It’s an ocifer uh da law.”

K: “What are you talkin bout?”

J: “It’s a cop and he’s not lookin too happy.”

K: “Oh shit, act sober. Maybe he won’t notice us.”

We got out food and drinks and walked past the cop to find a seat. He was standing with his arms crossed and looked really pissed off. After we sat down he walked over in front of our table, crossed his arms, and stared us down while we ate.

J: “Good evening officer.”

Cop: “Yes it is.”

K: “Are you keepin the tacos and chalupas safe?”

J: “Dude! Shut your pie hole.”

Cop: “I suggest you finish your food and go home.”

We scarfed our food down as fast as we could. I don’t remember tasting the food since we ate it so fast. We had a hard time not laughing during the whole ordeal. Drunken giggles kept slipping out the whole time we ate. We finished our food, threw out our trash, and started walking towards the door. The only thing standing in the way was the cop.

K: “Good night officer.”

Cop: “Go home, one more word and I’ll arrest you for public intoxication.”

J: “Alright, alright, were leavin.”

K: “Thank you for the safe dining experience. A safe taco is a happy taco, and happy tacos taste good.”

So we ran for the border and headed home. We discussed Saturday’s plans on the way……..

J: “What do you want to do tomorrow? Go to the bar?”

K: “Sounds good. Maybe we should leave a little earlier so we can go talk to the drive-thru guy at Rally’s.”

How Not to Get the Job, Vol.1.

Don't be a dumbass,
you dumbass

A lot of interview questions are pretty standard. Some are straight forward, and some are meant to trip you up. I like to start off interviews with simple and straight forward questions. A lot of time I am interviewing potential interns so the questions have to be more situational and less experience related. One of my favorite questions to ask potential interns is “Tell me about the time you had to take control of a difficult situation and how you handled it.” Nothing too complicated right? This seems to throw college kids for a loop. I get a lot of blank stares and can really see the gears turning. Some answer pretty quickly, some take a lot of time to fabricate something.

I walked into my office one morning, checked my schedule, saw I had some interviews, and printed out my usual list of questions. The first few intern candidates were ok. Things went smoothly until the last interviewee walked in and sat down. Something just wasn’t right. The dude reminded me of someone from Jersey Shore.  We started to talk, and then I began my questioning. The guy didn’t seem overly motivated so I jumped to the “difficult situation” question.  The following conversation played out after I dropped the mind bomb.

Me: “So tell me about a time where you had to take charge of a difficult situation and how you handled it.”

Student: “Hmmmm, that’s a good question.”

Me: “Can you give me an example, maybe school or work related?”

Student: “There was one time when I was on a debate team and some conversations got very heated.”

Me: “OhhhhhKaaaaay, what were you debating?”

Student:  “The pro’s and con’s of using Ecstasy and potentially legalizing it.”

Me: “So just out of curiosity, what side were you on, for or against?”

Student:  “I was pro-use and definitely for legalization.”

The conversation was getting interesting at this time so I pushed forward. This guy was a total idiot, but I was having too much fun to let it go.

Me: “So why were you so in favor or legalizing and using ecstasy?”

Student: “I take some every so often at the clubs on the weekend and I don’t see any negative side effects. I’m normal, right?”

Me: “aaaaahhh sure, whatever you say.”

I already knew this dude was a definite “no” but this really sealed the deal. HEY DUMBASS! It’s not a good idea to disclose your casual drug use to a potential employer on an interview. There are certain things that you should not talk about! If you can’t answer the question a simple “I don’t know” or “I can’t answer the question” will suffice. You don’t need to throw out the “I use drugs” card. The only thing that will help with is getting your ass laughed at and then kicked out the door.  You may think that there are no negative side effects from using drugs. Guess again! They must be doing something if you are telling your interviewers about your habit. Think outside the buns and pull your head out of your ass!

Fun with Gravity

Gravity can really bring
you down........

What goes up must come down. We discover gravity at an early age. I think the whole gravity concept sinks into our heads as babies. My kids discovered gravity when learning to walk and eating in their highchairs. Lots of “baby fall down and go boom” and constant splats of food hitting the kitchen floor resulted in a mental idea of a force out there that makes things fall.

At the age of 19 I rediscovered gravity. I was taking my first college physics class and getting refreshed on all sorts of fun formulas and calculations that I had learned in high school. I lived in a 12 story apartment my first sophomore year of college. The cool thing about this 12 story apartment was that it had a 12 story trash chute. My roommates and I had a good time dropping things like light bulbs, beer bottles, and rotten fruit from the twelfth floor to hear what kind of sound it made when hitting the bottom of the chute. One night one of my roommates reappeared from a trip to the grocery where he had bought a gallon sized glass jug of apple juice. We just couldn’t let that opportunity to apply some physics to the good old trash chute pass us by.

Once the jug was empty we filled it with water and waited for the prime drop opportunity, i.e. the time when the trash chute was completely empty. A few days later the chute was primed for dropping breakable stuff.  Half of us went to the twelfth floor and the rest went to the sixth.  I was on the sixth floor with the chute door open to watch the jug as it whizzed by. I gave the all clear and the jug was dropped. The jug was released, and just under three seconds later it hit rock bottom. I could barely see it as it passed the sixth floor trash shoot door. At the point of impact there was a loud BOOM! A mist of water shot up the chute well past the sixth floor. At that point we ran like hell, laughing hysterically.  We went back and did some calculations. At the sixth floor the jug had exceed 42 miles per hour and was cruising at just under 60 miles per hour at the time it hit the bottom. If you’ve ever had to pull over along a busy highway and get out of your car you’ve realized exactly how fast things fly by you at 60 miles per hour.

Now, at the time we didn’t realize what damage had occurred. At the point of impact the force was so high that it blew the trapdoor off the chute and knocked it into the dumpster. Apparently the jug was pulverized into small glass granules. Gravity gives us a lot of fits, make us fall down, makes things saggy, etc., but definitely provides the opportunity for many entertaining experiments. You don’t need to buy expensive things to entertain yourself. All you really need is some junk and a really high place to drop it from.

I Appreciate the Input

Some questions are better
left unanswered.......

First time fathers-to-be, heed warning! Six years ago my wife broke the news to me that I was going to be a dad. Yippee! Parenthood! This was cool! I thought it would be fun. There needs to be a book for 1st time dads that tells you how to handle certain situations that arise while waiting for the birth of your bundle of joy. You need to remember that a woman’s body does change during pregnancy, and you need to choose your answers to questions from your wife, girlfriend, whatever, very wisely. This is a time when it is ok to lie; lie like there is no tomorrow. Lie! Lie! Lie! I was presented with the following question 5 months into my wife’s pregnancy: “Is my face getting fatter?”  This is where I should have thought things out a little longer. My immediate response was “No, but your butt is getting wider.”  Abso-frickin-lutely the wrong answer! It just shot out of my mouth like a Jack Daniels overdose. My reply should have been something like “No, your face is as beautiful as ever.” Needless to say I was called some words I have never heard before.  I went to work the next day and told some of my male peers who were already fathers of my slip and every jaw hit the table. The most common response was “You are a dumbass! What the hell were you thinking? You lived to tell about this?” MEN OF THE WORLD, LISTEN TO MY WORDS AND TAKE NOTES! If you are asked this question or something similar, tell her what she wants to hear. Do not, under any circumstance, tell her how you really feel if you are asked questions about weight gain in any region of the body.

Laws of the Universe, Vol.1

The Universe Has Many Laws

I like to observe people’s behaviors, actions, reactions, etc. That’s actually one of the few things I enjoy about the mall, I’ll tell you the biggest reason in a future post….it is worth the wait. Anyway, over the years I have noticed that when one person loses weight, another person close to them gains. I have dubbed it The Law of Conservation of Fat.

I have seen hundreds of cases of this phenomenon occur over the years in different locations, mostly school and work. I have documented several cases at work over the last year. I have worked to drop a few pounds and noticed some co-workers packing the weight on. Some of the conversations have gone like this:

Co-worker: “Are losing weight?”

Me: “Yes thanks, are you getting fatter?”

Co-worker: “Yes as a matter of fact I am. I can’t seem to figure out why.”

Me: “I’ll tell you……It’s the Law of Conservation of Fat: Fat is neither created nor destroyed, it only passes from one person to another. “

Co-worker: “What the hell are you smoking? I should have HR do a random drug test on you!”

Me: “No really, it’s true. I lost 25 pounds, how much did you gain?”

Co-worker: There was a long pause then "25 pounds.”

Me: “Aha! See I told you so. My fat was floating around the office and since you were in close vicinity it latched on to you. I think I gave you a high five over the big game during football season. Physical contact makes the transfer of fat that much easier.”

SKINNY PEOPLE BEWARE! The next time an overweight person bumps into you it might not be an accident. They might be exercising their knowledge of the Law of Conservation of Fat. You may be next in line to pick up the weight they have lost.

FAT PEOPLE BEWARE! Though it sounds like fun and could yield a high level of weight loss, DO NOT go running through crowds like a chip on the Price is Right Plinko game or a ping-pong ball in Beer Pong.

REMEMBER: The fat is out there. It has to go somewhere.  Be mindful of your weight, and if you start to pack on the pounds remember the Law of Conservation of Fat!

This Sucks....

Just Add the Garden Hose



As I’ve grown older I’ve found myself getting excited about many different things. Recently it just happened to be over a vacuum cleaner. Yes, I got wood over a vacuum (figuratively not literally) and no, this is not going where you think it’s going. Get your mind out of the gutter!  It’s not just any vacuum, it’s a Dyson. You know, one of those uni-balling super vortex suckers. I don’t care if it took 4000 attempts to get it right according to the story book that came with it, in the end Dyson did. Anyway, this thing sucks….. like suck a golf ball through a garden hose suck! Our old vacuum crapped out and wouldn’t suck so we went on Vacu-Trek 2011. We looked at a lot of options. We landed up with the most expensive uber-sucker we could find. This thing will pick up everything…..dirt, toys, kids, the neighbor’s dog……whatever you can think of.  A job well done Mr. Dyson!  Now, if your mind does slip into the gutter over this, I personally would be worried about getting it close to “down there”. You may be deemed the inventor of the “Dyson Junk Remover” if you dare to tread in those waters. Remember, don’t fall in the gutter, and keep it clean while keeping it clean!

Tuba Spelled Backwards



Tuba, Tuba, Tuba

5 years seems to be the age of enlightenment. My son has been writing a lot of things, sounding them out and phonetically spelling them out. For those of you who don’t know what phonetically is, there is a good definition in Webster’s Dictionary. Go look it up. We have been working on reading, writing, and all that good stuff. I think he knows a lot more than he lets on. Every once in a while something like the following spews out of his mouth……

My Son: “Dad, what is tuba spelled backwards?

Me: “A but.”

My Son: “Dad, your tuba spelled backwards.”

Me: “What?”

My Son: “You’re a but, tuba spelled backward, get it?”

I didn’t tell him that but does not equal butt. I’ll let him lavish in his wittiness for a while. I’ll explain homonyms to him tomorrow. Once again, in case you don’t know what homonym means look it up.

One at a Time Please

Actual Parting Gift from US Mint

As previously mentioned, I am a big guy and the world is not made for big people. Even machines have it out for big people….We were in eastern Pennsylvania a few summers ago to visit some family and go to see what we could see in Philadelphia. It was an interesting trip with many memorable moments, one of which was at the US Mint. Everyone wants to see where money is made, right? So we made the half mile trek from the hotel to the mint. The place was fortified and secure just as would be expected. To gain entrance you had to go through several security checks, fortunately no body cavity searchers. The one was a weight scale based revolving door. Now the sign on the wall clearly stated “one person at a time” so we proceeded as directed. My wife went first, no problem. I got in, and then I heard a really annoying automated voice state “one at time please, please exit the building and enter the revolving door one at a time.” So I obliged and tried it again, this time same result. I looked over at my wife who was starting to giggle. I tried things one more time, still no luck. Then I looked over and saw there was a security guard manning the front desk. He was also giggling, well laughing profusely. I heard an intercom come on and a chuckling man’s voice say “I’ll let you in, one minute.” So I finally got into the mint only to find out that we couldn’t actually see any of the money making process. There was a very cheesy, middle school science fair-like do it yourself tour, and that was it. We did get a little baggy of shredded money as a parting gift. At least I got the satisfaction of brightening the security guard’s day, though I don’t think that was the first time he had done that to someone.

A Beloved Member Reappears

Dave circa the late 70's

Every one of us has one of those special friends or relatives that seems to always come up with something off the wall and outrageous. That person for me has been a friend or relative named Dave (left ambiguous not to incriminate). There have been many “Dave-isms" over the years. The following is one of the cleaner ones that was shocking and caught my wife off guard a few years back.

We were at my parent’s house, sitting on the deck in deep conversation. Strange discussions are abundant when the Wild Turkey Rare Breed (yes, Rare Breed, not the low octane stuff) is a-flowin. Dave is a bigger guy like me. He had been dieting, following one of those “you’ll lose weight but you’ll clog your arteries” all-protein diets. He was dropping pounds at a pretty steady rate, and it was very visible from the last time we saw him. We got to hear about how awesome it was to eat all the steak, bacon, and other various carnivorous delights and lose weight doing it. Then Dave stated “I did some calculating and at my current rate of weight loss I believe my penis is scheduled to reappear in mid-August.” Now how do you respond to that? We didn’t know either. Before we could volley something back he patted his belly and added “Everyone needs a good roof over their head but (still patting his belly) this one I am ok with getting rid of.“

A few months later I called Dave to make some plans to meet up with him during a summer excursion. Yes, I did venture to ask if there was a sighting. All I got was a belly laugh in return. Just like the world will never know how many licks it takes to get to the center of the Tootsie Pop, the world also will never know if Dave’s prediction came through.

No Gravity, No Problem

Future Engineer

My 4-year old son is notorious for technically oriented random thoughts just out of the blue. During a ride home from school he spouts off the following:  “I’m not worried if gravity stops working, I’ll just cover the earth in magnets and wear metal shoes.”  No gravity, no problem. I wish every problem was that easy to solve. We’ve already labeled him……engineer.