It's nice to know that on the list of things that are suitable for children, one can find, "deranged prostitute," and "vicious killer." Not to mention, "artificial insemination."
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Unnatural, but suitable for children
I bought yet another cheapie DVD set of old horror movies this morning. The description of one of the movies caught my eye.
It's nice to know that on the list of things that are suitable for children, one can find, "deranged prostitute," and "vicious killer." Not to mention, "artificial insemination."
It's nice to know that on the list of things that are suitable for children, one can find, "deranged prostitute," and "vicious killer." Not to mention, "artificial insemination."
Friday, May 30, 2008
Sentenced to Death
Today at work, the red-haired guy pulled out a sheet of paper with an odd logic puzzle on it that I'd never heard before. I'll try and summarize it as best as I can.
Three men have been sentenced to death and are burried up to their necks in the ground. Man A faces a brick wall. Man B faces the other side of the brick wall. Man C faces the back of Man B's head and Man D faces the back of Man C's head. Man A can only see the wall. Man B can only see the wall. Man C can only see Man B. And Man D can only see Man B and Man C.
Each man wears either a black or white hat. Man A wears a black hat, Man B wears a white hat, Man C wears a black hat, and Man D wears a white hat.
The executioner tells the men that they will all be executed unless one of them can tell what color hat he (the condemned man) is wearing. None of the condemned men can communicate with each other.
One of the men successfully tells the executioner the color of the hat he wears and the four are set free. Which man was able to figure out the color of the hat he wore and how was he able to do it?
I tried to find this logic problem online, but I couldn't. I did find several similar puzzles featuring men wearing different color hats, but they're not quite the same as this one.
I think what interests me most about this puzzle is the bizarre scenario of four men burried up to their necks and threatened with death unless they answer some absurd puzzle. It's like the plot to a future sequel of Saw or some other ultra-violent horror movie.
Three men have been sentenced to death and are burried up to their necks in the ground. Man A faces a brick wall. Man B faces the other side of the brick wall. Man C faces the back of Man B's head and Man D faces the back of Man C's head. Man A can only see the wall. Man B can only see the wall. Man C can only see Man B. And Man D can only see Man B and Man C.
Each man wears either a black or white hat. Man A wears a black hat, Man B wears a white hat, Man C wears a black hat, and Man D wears a white hat.
The executioner tells the men that they will all be executed unless one of them can tell what color hat he (the condemned man) is wearing. None of the condemned men can communicate with each other.
One of the men successfully tells the executioner the color of the hat he wears and the four are set free. Which man was able to figure out the color of the hat he wore and how was he able to do it?
I tried to find this logic problem online, but I couldn't. I did find several similar puzzles featuring men wearing different color hats, but they're not quite the same as this one.
I think what interests me most about this puzzle is the bizarre scenario of four men burried up to their necks and threatened with death unless they answer some absurd puzzle. It's like the plot to a future sequel of Saw or some other ultra-violent horror movie.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Work weirdness
The red-haired guy came into the machine shop and said, "It's as hot as nuts in here."
Later at work, a guy said he was going to the doctor to get violated tomorrow. (Ah, prostate examinations. I can't wait to get older.) Then he said, "Billy told me to make sure the doctor didn't have both hands on my shoulders when he was doing it."
Later at work, a guy said he was going to the doctor to get violated tomorrow. (Ah, prostate examinations. I can't wait to get older.) Then he said, "Billy told me to make sure the doctor didn't have both hands on my shoulders when he was doing it."
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
What the hell are you even talking about?
This morning I stood looking into the CNC machine I was running. The crazy guy practically ran up to me and leaned into my personal space.
"I'd hate to be a man who wakes up in the morning with a huge wart on his dick from sleeping with some whore," he said.
I agreed with him because I didn't know what the hell else to do.
"I'd hate to be a man who wakes up in the morning with a huge wart on his dick from sleeping with some whore," he said.
I agreed with him because I didn't know what the hell else to do.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Skittles and ticks
At work the red-haired guy (as he shall now be called) called my name and held up a huge bag of Skittles that he'd found in the machine shop office.
"Have some of these," he said.
I walked over and held out my hand. "Just dump some in," I said. "My hands are dirty."
"This is the machine shop. Just dig in."
When in Rome. So I grabbed some Skittles with my hand that was filthy from CNC coolant. God only knows what else was in that communal bag of Skittles.
Rather than hold a handful of Skittles in my nasty hand, I just dumped them all into my mouth. I probably hadn't had that much candy in my mouth at one time since I was little.
The red-haired guy stood beside me with his own handful of Skittles and then reached around his head with his other hand. He pulled something out of his hair I assumed was just a piece of aluminum since I always ended up with the stuff in my hair, pockets, wallet, mouth, etc. He showed me a tick as I chewed an inhuman quantity of Skittles.
The crazy guy came up and the red-haired guy offered him the tick. Much to my surprise, the crazy guy accepted the tick. He put on the table where I was sitting and then got his lighter out. The flame touched the tick. "Watch it pop," the crazy guy said. I leaned away, still chewing my Skittles.
He ended up mashing the tick with a piece of metal.
The red-haired guy then offered the rest of his handful of Skittles to the crazy guy, who actually took them and ate them.
"If you want some more Skittles the bag's in the office," the red-haired guy said.
"No, I've had enough," I said.
"Have some of these," he said.
I walked over and held out my hand. "Just dump some in," I said. "My hands are dirty."
"This is the machine shop. Just dig in."
When in Rome. So I grabbed some Skittles with my hand that was filthy from CNC coolant. God only knows what else was in that communal bag of Skittles.
Rather than hold a handful of Skittles in my nasty hand, I just dumped them all into my mouth. I probably hadn't had that much candy in my mouth at one time since I was little.
The red-haired guy stood beside me with his own handful of Skittles and then reached around his head with his other hand. He pulled something out of his hair I assumed was just a piece of aluminum since I always ended up with the stuff in my hair, pockets, wallet, mouth, etc. He showed me a tick as I chewed an inhuman quantity of Skittles.
The crazy guy came up and the red-haired guy offered him the tick. Much to my surprise, the crazy guy accepted the tick. He put on the table where I was sitting and then got his lighter out. The flame touched the tick. "Watch it pop," the crazy guy said. I leaned away, still chewing my Skittles.
He ended up mashing the tick with a piece of metal.
The red-haired guy then offered the rest of his handful of Skittles to the crazy guy, who actually took them and ate them.
"If you want some more Skittles the bag's in the office," the red-haired guy said.
"No, I've had enough," I said.
Monday, May 26, 2008
That's my reward?
The Coca-Cola Company has had this promotion for a while called My Coke Rewards that I've successfully ignored since its inception. Today, for some mysterious reason, I decided to actually go the website and enter in one of these codes. At first I thought the first four digits was "ANUS." How thrilling! Then I thought it was probably "RNU5." How disappointing.
I typed it in at the site and it was rejected. Maybe it was "RNV5"? Or maybe "ANVS"? The examples given at the site conveniently didn't show U, V, or 5. Whatever it is, I'll never find out because I got tired of typing in variations of ANUS and left.
Story of my life.
I typed it in at the site and it was rejected. Maybe it was "RNV5"? Or maybe "ANVS"? The examples given at the site conveniently didn't show U, V, or 5. Whatever it is, I'll never find out because I got tired of typing in variations of ANUS and left.
Story of my life.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
File Under: Bad Jobs
Driving home from shopping this morning I spotted a guy wearing a bright green clown wig with a matching shirt holding a big sign that read, "WE BUY SCRAP GOLD." He was sort of marching back and fourth along the sidewalk in front of a pawn shop.
Oddly, in this same area a couple of months ago, I saw a woman dressed the Statue of Liberty trying to drum up business for a tax place.
Oddly, in this same area a couple of months ago, I saw a woman dressed the Statue of Liberty trying to drum up business for a tax place.
Friday, May 23, 2008
In lieu of actual content
While digging through ancient files I've got backed on an external hard drive, I found the photo shown below.
I made this several years ago using the clone tool in GIMP. (I'm way too cheap to buy Photoshop.)
I made this several years ago using the clone tool in GIMP. (I'm way too cheap to buy Photoshop.)
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Loving tribute
At work today the conversation turned for some strange reason to tattoos. The crazy guy said, "I've never wanted a tattoo; I just don't think they're cool. But maybe when my momma dies, I'll get her name tattooed on my ass or something."
I just nodded.
I just nodded.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I just paid who money?
I won an auction on Ebay today. When I got the email receipt from PayPal, I noticed the email address of the person I'd just paid was bleedingbuttgasm@blehbleh.com. Yes, that's bleeding buttgasm. I gave bleedingbuttgasm $12.99 of my hard-earned money.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
It's make fun of the new guy day!
I ended up working in a different part of the machine shop today. As we stood in front of the huge CNC machine that punches holes in large sheets of metal, one of the guys said to me, "Watch out, this machine can throw metal back into your stomach. Pull your shirt up, Jimmy."
Jimmy pulled up his shirt and showed off a nasty looking scar at the bottom of his rib cage that ran from one side of his torso to the other. I grimaced, and then I got well away from this machine.
Then the guy who had just told me to watch out started laughing. Apparently, Jimmy's scar was from an old surgury and this machine doesn't periodically shoot metal sheets into your gut at all.
Just call me gullible.
Jimmy pulled up his shirt and showed off a nasty looking scar at the bottom of his rib cage that ran from one side of his torso to the other. I grimaced, and then I got well away from this machine.
Then the guy who had just told me to watch out started laughing. Apparently, Jimmy's scar was from an old surgury and this machine doesn't periodically shoot metal sheets into your gut at all.
Just call me gullible.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sausage in a can revisited
I wrote about canned sausage last week, but I have a confession to make: that was an old scan from a few years ago. It had been so long since I ate that stuff that I really didn't remember what it tasted like. So, I bough another can. But, I didn't just buy another can of Prairie Belt Smoked Sausage. Nope. I also bought a can of Vienna sausage since the one thing I did remember about the Prairie Belt sausage was that it reminded me of Vienna sausage.
I used to eat Vienna sausages when I was little, but they always reminded me of little penises. Somewhere along the line I stopped eating them. I guess one day I realized that they just don't taste that good. It's been a couple of decades probably since I've eaten the things.
When I opened the can they smelled and looked just as unappetizing as I remembered them. The liquid reminded a bit of hot dog water, but not as appealing. The taste? Bland. Not horrible, just bland. It's hard to describe. Imagine a hot dog, but just not as good. (Which isn't much of an endorsement since I don't really care for hot dogs either.) They looked just like lengths of hot dog, but the texture was much softer. Maybe if they were browned in a skillet or cooked on a charcoal grill they would be worth eating. Maybe not.
Ingredients: mechanically separated chicken, chicken broth, water, beef, pork, less than 2% of: salt, sugar, spices, sodium erythorbate, sodium nitrate and garlic powder.
Printed on the can was the following, "Libby's Vienna Sausages in Chicken Broth are ready-to-eat plump, delicately seasoned sausages. Enjoy them heated, chilled or right out of the container as a snack, main dish or sliced and added to casseroles and soups." Or just buy some real food.
On to the next can.
The Prairie Belt Smoked Sausages were a little shocking after I dumped them onto a plate. The liquid was a distressing yellowish color. They looked exactly like Vienna sausages, except darker. The smell was mainly sort of smoky. The taste? Worse than Vienna sausages, but not entirely inedible. The Viennas were more tolerable because they were so bland, while the Prairie Belt sausages had an unsettling tang to them.
Ingredients: mechanically separated chicken, water, chicken skins, pork skins, corn syrup, pork spleens, salt, no more than 2 percent of: soy protein isolate, natural flavorings, pork stomachs, sodium phosphate, oleoresin of paprika, sodium nitrate, smoke flavoring.
I really find it hard to believe that there was no more than 2% of smoke flavoring because the main smell and taste by far was smoky. The only other flavor I could identify was salt. Lots of salt.
After I ate a few of the Prairie Belt sausages, I decided I'd had enough. They're pretty awful, but not in any way I can describe. But I still had to finish both cans for lunch, which was my big plan for this weekend. (Yes, I know how sad that is.) The way I saw it (and I was deranged at this point from salt and pork spleen), the only way I was going to be able to finish them was to put the remaining six sausages between two slices of cheese and bread, then nuke it in the microwave for a bit. One side of the sandwich was Vienna and the other side was Prairie Belt. I ate the Vienna side first, and much to my surprise, it wasn't bad. In fact, it was almost good. I expected the Prairie Belt side to be an improvement over eating them plain, but I was sadly mistaken. Vile things these Prairie Belt Smoked Sausages. I made myself eat the whole sandwich, but it was more than a bit nauseating.
After I was done, I noticed that the serving size for each of these was half a can, so I had quadrupled the serving size. Now I can go another twenty-five or thirty years without eating this kind of stuff again.
I used to eat Vienna sausages when I was little, but they always reminded me of little penises. Somewhere along the line I stopped eating them. I guess one day I realized that they just don't taste that good. It's been a couple of decades probably since I've eaten the things.
When I opened the can they smelled and looked just as unappetizing as I remembered them. The liquid reminded a bit of hot dog water, but not as appealing. The taste? Bland. Not horrible, just bland. It's hard to describe. Imagine a hot dog, but just not as good. (Which isn't much of an endorsement since I don't really care for hot dogs either.) They looked just like lengths of hot dog, but the texture was much softer. Maybe if they were browned in a skillet or cooked on a charcoal grill they would be worth eating. Maybe not.
Ingredients: mechanically separated chicken, chicken broth, water, beef, pork, less than 2% of: salt, sugar, spices, sodium erythorbate, sodium nitrate and garlic powder.
Printed on the can was the following, "Libby's Vienna Sausages in Chicken Broth are ready-to-eat plump, delicately seasoned sausages. Enjoy them heated, chilled or right out of the container as a snack, main dish or sliced and added to casseroles and soups." Or just buy some real food.
On to the next can.
The Prairie Belt Smoked Sausages were a little shocking after I dumped them onto a plate. The liquid was a distressing yellowish color. They looked exactly like Vienna sausages, except darker. The smell was mainly sort of smoky. The taste? Worse than Vienna sausages, but not entirely inedible. The Viennas were more tolerable because they were so bland, while the Prairie Belt sausages had an unsettling tang to them.
Ingredients: mechanically separated chicken, water, chicken skins, pork skins, corn syrup, pork spleens, salt, no more than 2 percent of: soy protein isolate, natural flavorings, pork stomachs, sodium phosphate, oleoresin of paprika, sodium nitrate, smoke flavoring.
I really find it hard to believe that there was no more than 2% of smoke flavoring because the main smell and taste by far was smoky. The only other flavor I could identify was salt. Lots of salt.
After I ate a few of the Prairie Belt sausages, I decided I'd had enough. They're pretty awful, but not in any way I can describe. But I still had to finish both cans for lunch, which was my big plan for this weekend. (Yes, I know how sad that is.) The way I saw it (and I was deranged at this point from salt and pork spleen), the only way I was going to be able to finish them was to put the remaining six sausages between two slices of cheese and bread, then nuke it in the microwave for a bit. One side of the sandwich was Vienna and the other side was Prairie Belt. I ate the Vienna side first, and much to my surprise, it wasn't bad. In fact, it was almost good. I expected the Prairie Belt side to be an improvement over eating them plain, but I was sadly mistaken. Vile things these Prairie Belt Smoked Sausages. I made myself eat the whole sandwich, but it was more than a bit nauseating.
After I was done, I noticed that the serving size for each of these was half a can, so I had quadrupled the serving size. Now I can go another twenty-five or thirty years without eating this kind of stuff again.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
No fun
Yesterday, the crazy guy said to me, "You should go out with me one weekend and have some fun."
"No, I'd just end up getting teabagged."
"No, I'd just end up getting teabagged."
Friday, May 16, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
This post is too stupid to have a title
The crazy guy came up to me while I was working and asked, "Have you ever been teabagged?"
"No, I haven't!"
Then he laughed his ass off. Apparently, he was surprised I'd heard of teabagging. (I may be a mild-mannered, teetotaling, non-smoking nerd, but I have an extensive knowledge of extremely filthy hardcore pornography.)
Later he came up to me and said, "Hey, lets go to a party some time and find a guy who's passed out drunk and teabag him!"
"Uh, I'll pass."
"Then we can videotape it and put it up on YouTube!" Then he burst out laughing again.
So, for future reference, if any of you hear about a really funny video going around online featuring someone teabagging a drunk, there's a possibility it'll end up being the crazy guy doing the teabagging. Or me.
"No, I haven't!"
Then he laughed his ass off. Apparently, he was surprised I'd heard of teabagging. (I may be a mild-mannered, teetotaling, non-smoking nerd, but I have an extensive knowledge of extremely filthy hardcore pornography.)
Later he came up to me and said, "Hey, lets go to a party some time and find a guy who's passed out drunk and teabag him!"
"Uh, I'll pass."
"Then we can videotape it and put it up on YouTube!" Then he burst out laughing again.
So, for future reference, if any of you hear about a really funny video going around online featuring someone teabagging a drunk, there's a possibility it'll end up being the crazy guy doing the teabagging. Or me.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Stop looking down my blouse!
It seems the unspeakable Sherri has gone and tagged me for one of those accursed meme things all the kids are doing on the internets these days with the computers.
What were you doing five years ago?
I was a full time elderly student. Also, I was blogging. The proof, if you need it, is in the column on the right. Bastards!
What are five things on your to-do list for today (not in any particular order)?
* Drag my lifeless carcass out of bed to face yet another miserable day.
* Eat something while watching something strange on TV.
* Drive to work and try to not get killed by the maniacs who roam the streets and highways.
* Clean out the CNC machine because the damn second shift won't do it.
* Go home and try to forget I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
What are five snacks you enjoy?
* Cool Ranch Doritos
* Plain M&Ms
* Chili and lime peanuts
* A spoonful of Nutella
* Monkey casserole
What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?
* Retire
* Build a fortress of a house to keep the riff-raff away
* By a tank and a bunch of old cars to crush
* Give the exact amount the local PBS station is begging for right at the beggining of the pledge drive to see if they'll end the fucking thing right then and there.
* Buy robots to conquer (yes, conquer) the world
What are five of your bad habits?
* Checking out asses.
* Looking for subtle signs of jiggle.
* Expecting someone else will answer the damn phone.
* Loathing humanity.
* Looking down blouses.
What are five places where you have lived?
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA (Exciting, no?)
What are five jobs you’ve had?
* Making ravioli
* Unloading trucks
* Moving crap out into the warehouse
* Slotting merchandise at a party supply company
* Machine shop peon
What five people do you want to tag?
* Benito Mussolini
* Liberace
* Bullwinkle
* Norman Fell
* Rasputin
So there.
What were you doing five years ago?
I was a full time elderly student. Also, I was blogging. The proof, if you need it, is in the column on the right. Bastards!
What are five things on your to-do list for today (not in any particular order)?
* Drag my lifeless carcass out of bed to face yet another miserable day.
* Eat something while watching something strange on TV.
* Drive to work and try to not get killed by the maniacs who roam the streets and highways.
* Clean out the CNC machine because the damn second shift won't do it.
* Go home and try to forget I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
What are five snacks you enjoy?
* Cool Ranch Doritos
* Plain M&Ms
* Chili and lime peanuts
* A spoonful of Nutella
* Monkey casserole
What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?
* Retire
* Build a fortress of a house to keep the riff-raff away
* By a tank and a bunch of old cars to crush
* Give the exact amount the local PBS station is begging for right at the beggining of the pledge drive to see if they'll end the fucking thing right then and there.
* Buy robots to conquer (yes, conquer) the world
What are five of your bad habits?
* Checking out asses.
* Looking for subtle signs of jiggle.
* Expecting someone else will answer the damn phone.
* Loathing humanity.
* Looking down blouses.
What are five places where you have lived?
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA
* Danville, VA (Exciting, no?)
What are five jobs you’ve had?
* Making ravioli
* Unloading trucks
* Moving crap out into the warehouse
* Slotting merchandise at a party supply company
* Machine shop peon
What five people do you want to tag?
* Benito Mussolini
* Liberace
* Bullwinkle
* Norman Fell
* Rasputin
So there.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Does this look infected?
At work this morning the crazy guy came up to me with the sleeve on his t-shirt pulled over his shoulder. He lifted his arm up and pointed his arm pit right at me.
"Is there a tick in my arm pit? Do you see any little black spots?"
I didn't see anything.
"What about that little spot right there?" He motioned toward a tiny mole I was surprised he could even see at that angle.
"That's a mole," I said.
He turned around and showed me his other arm pit. There were no ticks there either.
I'm just glad he didn't do this that time he suddenly announced that he had a tick on his ball-sack and ran off to the bathroom.
"Is there a tick in my arm pit? Do you see any little black spots?"
I didn't see anything.
"What about that little spot right there?" He motioned toward a tiny mole I was surprised he could even see at that angle.
"That's a mole," I said.
He turned around and showed me his other arm pit. There were no ticks there either.
I'm just glad he didn't do this that time he suddenly announced that he had a tick on his ball-sack and ran off to the bathroom.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Sausage in a can?
I bought this and then actually ate it. The retro label caught my eye, so I bought a can of the stuff. Oddly, I was actually expecting it to sort of taste good. What it ended up being was a gross sort of Vienna sausage, except different. Vienna sausages are bad enough, but these were just weird and kind of gross. I should buy another can to make sure.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Two books I'll probably never read
I went to Goodwill this morning to poke around. The best things I found were a couple of ancient WWI-era medical books. One called Physical Diagnosis from 1919 has a swell color illustration of a blue-skinned man suffering from argyria (who also kind of looks like Dale Earnhardt).
Argyria's that condition people get from drinking colloidal silver like that guy you've all probably seen on YouTube:
The other medical book I got is Text-Book of Operative Dentistry from 1918. It had once belonged to the Medical College of Virginia. Inside was a folded document that turned out to be an exam--from 1923.
Incidentally, the Medical College of Virginia still exists.
Argyria's that condition people get from drinking colloidal silver like that guy you've all probably seen on YouTube:
The other medical book I got is Text-Book of Operative Dentistry from 1918. It had once belonged to the Medical College of Virginia. Inside was a folded document that turned out to be an exam--from 1923.
Incidentally, the Medical College of Virginia still exists.
Friday, May 09, 2008
That's good, right?
Yesterday at work, after measuring an aluminum part I'd just made, the second in command said, "Oh, yeah! You're shitting in the tall grass now!" I just smiled and nodded. All I could think of was the tall grass tickling my bare ass.
News of the useless kind
My tail bone hurts and I don't know why. I didn't fall on it or anything. Nothing happened at work that in anyway involved my ass, so there's no real reason for it to be hurting. Although, I did get to come home from work at noon and then spent much of my free time in front of my computer, but that's no different from how I spend my time after work and on weekends. Maybe my tail bone is trying to tell me something.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
Crash
I'd like to thank the person who crashed into the tree across the road from my house for giving me a blog post today. I had nothing at all to write about, but instead of scrambling around at the last moment to slap something substandard together, something actually happed that I can write about. It's still not very interesting though. Sorry.
As I got home from work I saw police cars, an ambulance, a tow truck, a fire truck, and a wrecked car blocking off the road only feet past the driveway. The phones are now knocked out because they hit the green phonebox thing that sticks out of the ground. Thankfully, I now have high speed cable internet. Boy would I be pissed if I was still on dial-up.
The driver? I have no idea, but I doubt they were seriously injured because this seemed like an awfully casual crash scene.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Dune terminology of no use to any sane person
OK, this isn't the type of stuff I usually post, so people might actually like it.
Back in 1984 or so, my sister and I went to go see David Lynch's universally reviled adaptation of Dune. I remember the theater was nearly empty and no one even bothered to tear my ticket when I went in. My sister was handed several glossy sheets paper as she went in and she gave me a couple of them. They turned out to be a glossary of Dune words that I imagine some studio dork thought movie-goers would actually consult to make the film more understandable. Sure. No one pointed out to the studio that you can't read in a damn movie theater while the movie's playing because it's frickin' dark.
I don't even think I knew what the sheets were until I got home and actually looked at them. They ended up pressed in a large hardback book and that's where they've been for the past twenty-plus years.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Friday, it must be insanity
Today the crazy guy must've realized he was was being a bit dull of late and needed to make up for it.
While talking to me this morning, he suddenly announced, "Damn, I have a tick on my ball-sack!" And then he ran off to the bathroom. I expected a detailed story when he got back, but he didn't mention it again. I have to admit I'm still a bit curious if he did indeed have a tick on his ball-sack.
Later, while I stood looking through the Lexan window of the CNC milling machine I was running, the crazy guy came right up beside me and began dancing. He was practically humping my CNC machine while singing Steve Winwood's "Higher Love."
"Please stop," I said.
After lunch he simply disappeared. People asked where he was and if he came back from lunch. Since I had no idea he'd even left, I had no useful information for anyone. (He hangs out with me so much that I'm his minder now it seems.) After an over two hour absence, he returned to work looking rather frazzled. Apparently, he was tired from late night fishing and drove off to a nearby deserted area to take a quick nap. The quick nap degenerated into a two hour nap.
How this guy still has a job is a mystery to everyone.
While talking to me this morning, he suddenly announced, "Damn, I have a tick on my ball-sack!" And then he ran off to the bathroom. I expected a detailed story when he got back, but he didn't mention it again. I have to admit I'm still a bit curious if he did indeed have a tick on his ball-sack.
Later, while I stood looking through the Lexan window of the CNC milling machine I was running, the crazy guy came right up beside me and began dancing. He was practically humping my CNC machine while singing Steve Winwood's "Higher Love."
"Please stop," I said.
After lunch he simply disappeared. People asked where he was and if he came back from lunch. Since I had no idea he'd even left, I had no useful information for anyone. (He hangs out with me so much that I'm his minder now it seems.) After an over two hour absence, he returned to work looking rather frazzled. Apparently, he was tired from late night fishing and drove off to a nearby deserted area to take a quick nap. The quick nap degenerated into a two hour nap.
How this guy still has a job is a mystery to everyone.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
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