Yes, the legend is true, I fought old St. Nick. And might I add that as a child I thought that he was Street Nick, but I digress.
I always knew that one day it would happen, that one day it would come to this. It was clear to me that the fat old man in the red suit would come looking for me. In kindergarten I was the boy who told the other children that Santa Claus was a fake, a phony and a charlatan. I can still see their confused faces.
Have you ever seen a kid who can't spell his own name try and say charlatan. It wasn't fair or funny what I did that day. I left the teacher with a real conundrum, but that is a separate tale for a different time and place.
Old St. Nick is not as jolly as some would like to portray him. You see when they speak of him making a list of who is naughty and nice they leave out part of the story. The nice children, well they get presents, cool toys to play with, bright and shiny.
But the naughty kids get something else and it is not a pleasant experience or so I had always been told.
The night it went down was no different from any other evening in Los Angeles. It was a little after 1 am and I was coming home from a night out with some friends. I was tired having fought six crips, eight bloods and a pack of girl scouts who were angry that I never paid for the pallet of Thin Mint cookies they had sold to me that spring.
On top of all that I had emptied three clips on the freeway and the worst part was that during the gunfight I had somehow managed to drop my best gun out of the window of my car. So by the time I rolled up to my driveway I was more than a little cranky.
He must have been planning this hit for a while because when I got out of the car he was waiting for me. I was walking up the driveway and towards the front door when I was knocked to the ground. I didn't see him jump off of the roof but I sure felt the weight of that fat bastard. The impact knocked the wind out of me. I was stunned and for a moment completely bewildered.
But the beauty of being a Taurus is that I am very much like the bull, minus the horns, hooves and ring through the nose. I pawed the ground, snorted and flung the old fat man off of me. I stood up and wiped the dirt off my face and prepared to unleash one angry Jew on that poor excuse of a man.
For a moment we stood and stared at each other. We circled right and circled left, it was the ugliest hora you have ever seen. And then finally from somewhere deep inside me came this guttural noise and I was on top of him. Punching, kicking, fish hooking and gouging we went at it. We rolled around in combat like Gandalf and the Balrog.
It was ugly and it was mean. I had never pegged Santa as a biter, but to this day my right shoulder bears the scars from his jaws. I had to tear out close to half of his beard but I finally got him to release. The pain was considerable.
After what seemed like an eternity I finally got the upper hand on him and I gradually made it clear that I was going to make him pay. The old fool must have had a contingency plan in place just in case something like this happened because he was rescued by a squad of commando elves and reindeers just when I was really beginning to press my advantage.
They swooped in and took him from me and instead of being able to claim victory I was forced to accept that I had won the battle but not the war. He is still out there and he remembers the pain and the shame. I am still on that list and someday he will come back and try to finish what he started.
And now each winter I watch the sky. I scan the horizon for signs of him. I pay close attention to the dark and I never forget that somewhere there is a fat man in a red suit looking for me. I never forget that the gift he brings will be bitter.
One day we will meet again, oh yes, one day we will find out the who really is the better man.
(Green post)
Showing posts with label Narishkeit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Narishkeit. Show all posts
Challah as a Fertility Drug
via mynet.co.il
You never can eat enough of our special challah. Sorry, I can't stop laughing at this. Oy.
Benji get's the hat tip for this one.
Don't Tell Me To Shut Up
Your old pal Jack is known for being the kind of guy who really does march to the beat of his own drummer. He is prone to getting lost in his own world, is known for swearing like a sailor and has a sense of humor that sometimes borders upon the indecent. A scrapper and muckraker who isn't afraid to get the last word in he is exceptionally gregarious and comfortable in his own silence.
His good friends will tell you that people love him or hate him and he'll nod his head in affirmation. If that wacky Shmata Queen ever resurfaces she'll confirm that sometimes storms follow in his footsteps. If he had his way he'd be just like Zeus, a god on a mountaintop who you don't want to irritate because he might light your ass up with a lightning bolt.
If you ever wanted or needed to know how to get him to fling one of those bolts at you all you need to do is tell him to Shut Up. He finds it interesting to note that these two simple words set him off like no others. You can call him an asshole or a motherfucker and he doesn't care. In fact, he might agree with you. Call him a jerk, a schmuck and a putz and he'll laugh because clearly you have mistaken him for a Bostonian or Clevelander.
Tell him that he is a pretentious fuck who should stop speaking about himself in third person and he'll nod his head but he won't stop until he is ready because he is oppositional, adversarial and grumpy. A 41.5 year old curmudgeon who works hard at honing his craft he finds all this nonsense to be mildly amusing.
Why oh why do those two words set him off? Well, as he sits here wondering aloud it occurs to him that he doesn't pay much attention to any of the "harsher" curse words or "shut up" unless they are used by certain people. His mommy and daddy should be proud that he learned the old sticks and stones rhyme so well because that is sort of where it began, this ability to ignore the epithets and colorful descriptions that people have hurled at him.
So you might wonder if those certain people can upset him by using those other words and the truth is that they can, but only to an extent. For whatever reason, "Shut Up" just bothers him more and if you use it be prepared for his response. But if you are among the select group who are capable of getting under his skin you are already know these things so the purpose and point of this post is questionable.
Or maybe not, maybe this is just another writing exercise that he uses to prepare himself to begin the working on the writing that pays the bills.
His good friends will tell you that people love him or hate him and he'll nod his head in affirmation. If that wacky Shmata Queen ever resurfaces she'll confirm that sometimes storms follow in his footsteps. If he had his way he'd be just like Zeus, a god on a mountaintop who you don't want to irritate because he might light your ass up with a lightning bolt.
If you ever wanted or needed to know how to get him to fling one of those bolts at you all you need to do is tell him to Shut Up. He finds it interesting to note that these two simple words set him off like no others. You can call him an asshole or a motherfucker and he doesn't care. In fact, he might agree with you. Call him a jerk, a schmuck and a putz and he'll laugh because clearly you have mistaken him for a Bostonian or Clevelander.
Tell him that he is a pretentious fuck who should stop speaking about himself in third person and he'll nod his head but he won't stop until he is ready because he is oppositional, adversarial and grumpy. A 41.5 year old curmudgeon who works hard at honing his craft he finds all this nonsense to be mildly amusing.
Why oh why do those two words set him off? Well, as he sits here wondering aloud it occurs to him that he doesn't pay much attention to any of the "harsher" curse words or "shut up" unless they are used by certain people. His mommy and daddy should be proud that he learned the old sticks and stones rhyme so well because that is sort of where it began, this ability to ignore the epithets and colorful descriptions that people have hurled at him.
So you might wonder if those certain people can upset him by using those other words and the truth is that they can, but only to an extent. For whatever reason, "Shut Up" just bothers him more and if you use it be prepared for his response. But if you are among the select group who are capable of getting under his skin you are already know these things so the purpose and point of this post is questionable.
Or maybe not, maybe this is just another writing exercise that he uses to prepare himself to begin the working on the writing that pays the bills.
Shopping Carts
At first it was nothing more than a simple disagreement over a parking space. Two drivers spotted the hole and simultaneously made a mad dash for it. They drove with reckless abandon and a complete disregard for the safety of pedestrians who just happened to be walking from their vehicles to the store entrance.
I know this because I was there and I saw how it all began. I wasn’t one of the drivers that day, just a father who needed to pick up a few items for his family. Just a man who made a point of gathering a few orphaned shopping carts so that they could be escorted back to their stall.
A different man, a better man than I would have done this without regard for self promotion. He would have engaged in random acts of kindness for the sole purpose of making the world a better place and I applaud him for it.
But I am not that man. I didn’t take the carts for the purpose of reuniting them with their families. Their cries of loneliness and incessant bleating didn’t touch my heart. They were an inconvenience that I was unwilling to accept. What can I say, I am intolerant of lost shopping carts and unforgiving of the people who abandon them.
These carts may be made of metal and cheap metal at that, but they deserve more consideration than they are given. They never take a day off from work. They don't call in sick or complain about management. When you need them they are there for you, regardless of whether they have one bad wheel or several.
They don't complain about kids who smash into them at high speed or the elderly who remove them from their lot as short term replacements for their walkers. Nor will you ever hear them speak badly of the giants who leave their shopping lists lying in the basket.
And that reminds me to mention that I am grateful for that very thing. I never make a shopping list in advance. That would be far too easy and make too much sense. It is much more fun just wander the aisles and grab whatever strikes my fancy.
Or alternatively I can use the lists that they leave behind. Adds a little excitement and mystery to my day. I hate cats and would never own one, but if the list says buy kitty litter than I do it. Sometimes it is a bottle of Formula 409 and a box of baking soda.
But it is never more fun than when I find a shopping list for a party. I once came home and unloaded 12 pounds of steak, 38 pounds of potatoes and sixteen cases of beer. Oh and let's not forget a vat of whiskey. Wow, that made for some really good times.
I know this because I was there and I saw how it all began. I wasn’t one of the drivers that day, just a father who needed to pick up a few items for his family. Just a man who made a point of gathering a few orphaned shopping carts so that they could be escorted back to their stall.
A different man, a better man than I would have done this without regard for self promotion. He would have engaged in random acts of kindness for the sole purpose of making the world a better place and I applaud him for it.
But I am not that man. I didn’t take the carts for the purpose of reuniting them with their families. Their cries of loneliness and incessant bleating didn’t touch my heart. They were an inconvenience that I was unwilling to accept. What can I say, I am intolerant of lost shopping carts and unforgiving of the people who abandon them.
These carts may be made of metal and cheap metal at that, but they deserve more consideration than they are given. They never take a day off from work. They don't call in sick or complain about management. When you need them they are there for you, regardless of whether they have one bad wheel or several.
They don't complain about kids who smash into them at high speed or the elderly who remove them from their lot as short term replacements for their walkers. Nor will you ever hear them speak badly of the giants who leave their shopping lists lying in the basket.
And that reminds me to mention that I am grateful for that very thing. I never make a shopping list in advance. That would be far too easy and make too much sense. It is much more fun just wander the aisles and grab whatever strikes my fancy.
Or alternatively I can use the lists that they leave behind. Adds a little excitement and mystery to my day. I hate cats and would never own one, but if the list says buy kitty litter than I do it. Sometimes it is a bottle of Formula 409 and a box of baking soda.
But it is never more fun than when I find a shopping list for a party. I once came home and unloaded 12 pounds of steak, 38 pounds of potatoes and sixteen cases of beer. Oh and let's not forget a vat of whiskey. Wow, that made for some really good times.
The Man of Steel Versus The Spam Beast
It is only fitting that it was during Comic-Con that I received an urgent call for help from the Man of Steel.
For several days he had been engaged in all out war with Captain Spam. It was one hell of a battle. Every time he tried to comment on one of my posts it was marked as spam and sent to the Phantom Zone.
In days of yore he would of called upon Captain Spam and the Keyboard Crusader would have surely answered the call. But CS hasn't been seen in months. Some wonder if perhaps he was captured by the Nigerians in the 419 zone.
It had been my understanding that one or more members of the Lantern Corps were investigating this. Having been forced into an early retirement I have been a bit more reluctant to pay attention to events that don't have a direct bearing upon myself or my family. And yes, I am bitter about that but that's a topic for a different day.
And it is only fair to mention that the Man of Steel was one of the few who stood by my side during those crazy days of allegations, trials and kangaroo courts. Unfairly accused and convicted I refrained from telling the world to go to hell and made a quiet promise to help the man should ever he need it.
Those were bad times, ugly days that I care not to remember as the pain hasn't ever gone away. So you can understand that I meant it when I said that I'd never march out the castle gates again. But a promise is a promise which is how I came to find myself suiting up for battle.
Fair warning is given to those who would oppose me. I expect no quarter and will give none in return.Evil shall once again tremble at the sound of my horns and the anticipation of my wrath. Stand in my way at your peril, The Bishop of Bullfrog has returned.
For several days he had been engaged in all out war with Captain Spam. It was one hell of a battle. Every time he tried to comment on one of my posts it was marked as spam and sent to the Phantom Zone.
In days of yore he would of called upon Captain Spam and the Keyboard Crusader would have surely answered the call. But CS hasn't been seen in months. Some wonder if perhaps he was captured by the Nigerians in the 419 zone.
It had been my understanding that one or more members of the Lantern Corps were investigating this. Having been forced into an early retirement I have been a bit more reluctant to pay attention to events that don't have a direct bearing upon myself or my family. And yes, I am bitter about that but that's a topic for a different day.
And it is only fair to mention that the Man of Steel was one of the few who stood by my side during those crazy days of allegations, trials and kangaroo courts. Unfairly accused and convicted I refrained from telling the world to go to hell and made a quiet promise to help the man should ever he need it.
Those were bad times, ugly days that I care not to remember as the pain hasn't ever gone away. So you can understand that I meant it when I said that I'd never march out the castle gates again. But a promise is a promise which is how I came to find myself suiting up for battle.
Fair warning is given to those who would oppose me. I expect no quarter and will give none in return.Evil shall once again tremble at the sound of my horns and the anticipation of my wrath. Stand in my way at your peril, The Bishop of Bullfrog has returned.
Don't Mess with The Uni-Blogger
If you know what is good for you, if you value the parts of your body and want them to remain in pristine condition you will be careful around The Uni-Blogger. Cue evil maniacal laughter. Yes, I Jack, am the Uni-Blogger.
The new moniker was derived from an innocuous comment made over here and has quickly become my nom de plume or at least it might. It kind of depends on whether I am able to secure my evil hideaway, every villain needs a good lair from which to operate and I am no different.
Unfortunately I am a bit tight for cash these days so I need to knock over a bank or two or find a benefactor. You know, someone who has a lot of cash but is missing my giant brain and enormous intellect. In this crazy mixed up world they will approach me with an offer to finance my next diabolical scheme. They'll send some goon to pick me up in a fancy car which will take me to some obscure location where Daddy Warbucks will offer to help me find the resources to turn transform this aforementioned diabolical plan into reality.
I'll sit there pretending to be impressed by his money and power but secretly will hold him in contempt for having such sad and pedestrian dreams. Hah, he is not even close to being in my league.Not only am I far smarter than he is, I am an expert in seven different martial arts and an expert in chemical warfare.
So while I sit there pretending I'll mull over whether a demonstration of my prowess is needed. That musclebound fool who drove me here might learn to his chagrin that it wasn't smart to put his hand on my shoulder. I don't like being touched by people of his ilk and as his boss will find out I don't suffer fools.
Cue maniacal laughter again.
I am The Uni-Blogger and given time the world will come to both fear and love me. Those who abide by my rules will see that I am a benevolent dictator and those who don't will face the consequences of their actions. With an iron fist and exceptional determination I will bend them all to my will.
Can you see me smiling. Can you feel the animal magnetism radiating off of me. Women will fling themselves at my feet, children will hide and men will tremble. And it is all because of my destiny. I was born for greatness, really it is true. It was foretold that a man would rise and that he would be something more than he seemed.
I, The Uni-Blogger am that man. Three parts crazy, two parts sane and six tenths neurotic I am here because fate has declared this to be my time.
Or so it may come to pass, provided that I find that secret lair. What good is a villain without a hideaway, especially one who fears that he'll be forced to purchase a used lair somewhere near the burning river in the Akron-cleveland area. Once LeBron leaves the light truly will go out in that city and the residents won't notice that something special is happening there. Perhaps I shall call it Coventry House.
Or even worse I'll be forced to start my reign of terror from a tiny shack in the mountains. A little rundown, ramshackle hovel that has no electricity or running water but sort of a homelike feel. There next to stream I used to bathe and drink from I shall start writing my manifesto. Ten gazillion words about how much better life would be if people followed my rules.
I can't help but wonder thought, will people think less of The Uni-Blogger if he has a unibrow. Must I be concerned with the fine art of manscapery. That just doesn't seem right or fair. I suppose that I'll have to start my first manifesto proclaiming and extolling the virtues of hair on men.
Long live The Uni-Blogger- protector of all that is good and hairy.
The new moniker was derived from an innocuous comment made over here and has quickly become my nom de plume or at least it might. It kind of depends on whether I am able to secure my evil hideaway, every villain needs a good lair from which to operate and I am no different.
Unfortunately I am a bit tight for cash these days so I need to knock over a bank or two or find a benefactor. You know, someone who has a lot of cash but is missing my giant brain and enormous intellect. In this crazy mixed up world they will approach me with an offer to finance my next diabolical scheme. They'll send some goon to pick me up in a fancy car which will take me to some obscure location where Daddy Warbucks will offer to help me find the resources to turn transform this aforementioned diabolical plan into reality.
I'll sit there pretending to be impressed by his money and power but secretly will hold him in contempt for having such sad and pedestrian dreams. Hah, he is not even close to being in my league.Not only am I far smarter than he is, I am an expert in seven different martial arts and an expert in chemical warfare.
So while I sit there pretending I'll mull over whether a demonstration of my prowess is needed. That musclebound fool who drove me here might learn to his chagrin that it wasn't smart to put his hand on my shoulder. I don't like being touched by people of his ilk and as his boss will find out I don't suffer fools.
Cue maniacal laughter again.
I am The Uni-Blogger and given time the world will come to both fear and love me. Those who abide by my rules will see that I am a benevolent dictator and those who don't will face the consequences of their actions. With an iron fist and exceptional determination I will bend them all to my will.
Can you see me smiling. Can you feel the animal magnetism radiating off of me. Women will fling themselves at my feet, children will hide and men will tremble. And it is all because of my destiny. I was born for greatness, really it is true. It was foretold that a man would rise and that he would be something more than he seemed.
I, The Uni-Blogger am that man. Three parts crazy, two parts sane and six tenths neurotic I am here because fate has declared this to be my time.
Or so it may come to pass, provided that I find that secret lair. What good is a villain without a hideaway, especially one who fears that he'll be forced to purchase a used lair somewhere near the burning river in the Akron-cleveland area. Once LeBron leaves the light truly will go out in that city and the residents won't notice that something special is happening there. Perhaps I shall call it Coventry House.
Or even worse I'll be forced to start my reign of terror from a tiny shack in the mountains. A little rundown, ramshackle hovel that has no electricity or running water but sort of a homelike feel. There next to stream I used to bathe and drink from I shall start writing my manifesto. Ten gazillion words about how much better life would be if people followed my rules.
I can't help but wonder thought, will people think less of The Uni-Blogger if he has a unibrow. Must I be concerned with the fine art of manscapery. That just doesn't seem right or fair. I suppose that I'll have to start my first manifesto proclaiming and extolling the virtues of hair on men.
Long live The Uni-Blogger- protector of all that is good and hairy.
The Hacker's Room
"But I kick that ball
And I pray it goes straight
If it does
The coach says "Good job, number 8"
He doesn't even know my name is
Andre Kristacovitchlalinski, Jr.
But that's the life I live"
The Lonesome Kicker- Adam Sandler
This afternoon I found myself engaged in an exceptionally dangerous activity...thinking. Yep, I was stuck in a waiting room in which I was unable to lose myself in any of the 12 electronic devices I carry. Consequently I was forced to spend the time thinking about...stuff.
Yes, you heard me, I had to think. So I sat there and let my eyes and mind wander. I stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out what they were made out of and what sort of manufacturing process was involved. Wondered about whether there was a trade publication devoted to ceilings and what it might be called.
My reverie was interrupted by the loud hacking of a man sitting a few seats away from me. The man sounded like he had swallowed the mother of all hairballs and was coughing with such force that I was certain that he was going to lose a lung along with whatever else was stuck in his throat.
His coughing proved to be too much for the lady next to me. With a loud sigh she stood up and made a point of switching seats. Instead of sitting on my right she moved to my left. Needless to say I was quite unhappy with her lack of courtesy. By switching seats she stopped serving in the proper role of shield and left me exposed to whatever it was that was going to come out.
Now as a father I am well acquainted with fluids. Add my time as a father to my fraternity years and there is no doubt that I know all about the things that can be expelled from your body. And that my friends is exactly why I was irritated with her. She had no business placing me in harm's way.
I was just about to tell her how rude she was not to protect me from her cooties when something shiny caught my eye. Don't ask me what it was because I don't know, could have been the light reflecting off a watch. Or maybe it was the guy wearing the gold chains and a cleveland rocks t-shirt.
He was something else, the gold chain man. I looked at him and asked if he was from Parma. Turns out that he wasn't, said something about Pepper Pike. And of course I had to ask him if he had already applied for asylum. I ignored the blank look he gave me and explained that blue skies are normal and that we have a basketball team that wins championships. In fact all of our sports teams are winners.
Dude was so dumbfounded by the idea of being in a city of winners he just stood and stared. Maybe I made a mistake by not telling him that our rivers don't spontaneously burst into flame., Dunno.
Of course the man from the iron lung disrupted my chain of thought with another burst of ear splitting coughs. I couldn't help but wonder if this hacking was peeling off layers of skin from his esophagus. In fact I was about to ask him when I noticed that there was an empty seat on the left side of the woman who had been sitting next to me.
Since turnabout is fair play I picked myself up and moved into the seat. Better that he end coughing on her than I. Really, the more I think about it the more irritated I become. Who does she think she is, moving like that.
And I pray it goes straight
If it does
The coach says "Good job, number 8"
He doesn't even know my name is
Andre Kristacovitchlalinski, Jr.
But that's the life I live"
The Lonesome Kicker- Adam Sandler
This afternoon I found myself engaged in an exceptionally dangerous activity...thinking. Yep, I was stuck in a waiting room in which I was unable to lose myself in any of the 12 electronic devices I carry. Consequently I was forced to spend the time thinking about...stuff.
Yes, you heard me, I had to think. So I sat there and let my eyes and mind wander. I stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out what they were made out of and what sort of manufacturing process was involved. Wondered about whether there was a trade publication devoted to ceilings and what it might be called.
My reverie was interrupted by the loud hacking of a man sitting a few seats away from me. The man sounded like he had swallowed the mother of all hairballs and was coughing with such force that I was certain that he was going to lose a lung along with whatever else was stuck in his throat.
His coughing proved to be too much for the lady next to me. With a loud sigh she stood up and made a point of switching seats. Instead of sitting on my right she moved to my left. Needless to say I was quite unhappy with her lack of courtesy. By switching seats she stopped serving in the proper role of shield and left me exposed to whatever it was that was going to come out.
Now as a father I am well acquainted with fluids. Add my time as a father to my fraternity years and there is no doubt that I know all about the things that can be expelled from your body. And that my friends is exactly why I was irritated with her. She had no business placing me in harm's way.
I was just about to tell her how rude she was not to protect me from her cooties when something shiny caught my eye. Don't ask me what it was because I don't know, could have been the light reflecting off a watch. Or maybe it was the guy wearing the gold chains and a cleveland rocks t-shirt.
He was something else, the gold chain man. I looked at him and asked if he was from Parma. Turns out that he wasn't, said something about Pepper Pike. And of course I had to ask him if he had already applied for asylum. I ignored the blank look he gave me and explained that blue skies are normal and that we have a basketball team that wins championships. In fact all of our sports teams are winners.
Dude was so dumbfounded by the idea of being in a city of winners he just stood and stared. Maybe I made a mistake by not telling him that our rivers don't spontaneously burst into flame., Dunno.
Of course the man from the iron lung disrupted my chain of thought with another burst of ear splitting coughs. I couldn't help but wonder if this hacking was peeling off layers of skin from his esophagus. In fact I was about to ask him when I noticed that there was an empty seat on the left side of the woman who had been sitting next to me.
Since turnabout is fair play I picked myself up and moved into the seat. Better that he end coughing on her than I. Really, the more I think about it the more irritated I become. Who does she think she is, moving like that.
How To Make An Impression
Every now and then people ask for my advice on how to make an impression upon others. Well I am not going to give away all of my secrets because it would be awkward if you all became as cool as me.
But I will share one thing that I have found to be very successful, especially in job interviews, a personal theme song or soundtrack.
Lately I don't enter a room without this music preceding my entrance. Every now and then I do mix it up. Past choices have included this, this, this and this.
But I will share one thing that I have found to be very successful, especially in job interviews, a personal theme song or soundtrack.
Lately I don't enter a room without this music preceding my entrance. Every now and then I do mix it up. Past choices have included this, this, this and this.
America's Best Public Restrooms
Friends it is time again to announce the winners of America's Best Restroom contest. As you know this is one of the yearly features of the blog so I am pleased to present it to you again.
Here is a list of the top five which I am sad to say have never received a visit from me, but perhaps one day.
Here is a list of the top five which I am sad to say have never received a visit from me, but perhaps one day.
1. The Shoji Tabuchi Theater, Branson, Missouri (Click Here)
2. The Tremont Plaza Hotel, Baltimore, MD (Click Here)
3. Radio City Music Hall, New York, NY (Click Here)
4. Zeffirino Ristorante, Las Vegas, NV (Click Here)
5. The Drake Hotel, Chicago, Illinois (Click Here)
Among the remaining finalists, those placing in sixth through tenth place are as follows: Macy’s – Union Square in San Francisco, California; The Tampa Theatre in Tampa, Florida; NOVA 535 in St. Petersburg, Florida; The Fox Theatre in Detroit, Michigan and Canlis Restaurant in Seattle, Washington.
The Shoji Tabuchi Theatre received the coveted “America’s Best Restroom” plaque of recognition from Cintas during a special presentation today, and secured its place in the “America’s Best Restroom Hall of Fame” found at www.bestrestroom.com.
Caller ID- How Did We Ever Live Without It
The beauty of insomnia is that it presents you with great opportunities to ponder the really important questions of life. Instead of lying in bed wondering if you were played for the fool or working on a plot to take over the world you can focus on key issues like why cleveland will never win a championship in anything.
But if you are me you have already figured that stuff out so you move on to the great philosophical questions of our time and with laser precision wonder how life without Caller ID was possible. If you are of a certain age you remember a time when few people had answering machines, call waiting didn't exist and conference calling was limited to business.
And now all of those things are commonplace and expected to be part of regular phone service. Heck, long distance telephone calls are think of the past. You don't have MCI, Sprint or Ma Bell trying to convince you that their long distance service is superior any more.
Anyhoo, as those sheep went soaring over my head and across the room I thought about Caller ID and and the famous Star 69/*69 function. You know *69, that is the one that dials the last number to call your phone. I used to hate that one.
You see when I try calling someone I don't always leave a message. Sometimes people dial me back immediately and ask what I wanted. But the truth is that I really didn't want anything special. I was just calling to say hi and when they didn't answer I didn't feel like speaking to the mechanical silence of their greeting.
So every now and then I'll get a call back and we'll go through this silly exercise:
Caller: Did you just call me?
Jack: I did.
Caller: You didn't leave a message
Jack: I know.
Caller: Did you just call me?
Jack: I did.
Caller: Why didn't you leave a message?
Jack: It wasn't that important.
Caller: So why did you call?
Jack: I thought that we might catch up, been a while since we last spoke.
Caller: So why didn't you leave a message?
Jack: I just told you why.
Caller: How are we supposed to catch up if you don't leave a message?
Jack: I don't know, does Western Union still exist.
Caller: I am serious.
Jack: So am I.
Caller: But why didn't you leave a message?
Jack: It is one of the great mysteries of the universe like why would you live with a Dutch muppet.
Caller: That doesn't make any sense.
Jack: This conversation doesn't make any sense.
Caller: Why can't you answer the question?
Jack: For the same reason that I can't stop and ask for directions, because.
Caller: Now I am getting angry, don't be like this. Please answer.
Jack: I did answer, but you didn't like what I said.
Caller: No, you didn't answer.
Jack: How did a simple telephone call turn into a fight.
Caller: If you'd answer the question we wouldn't be fighting.
Jack: And if you had a penis you'd be a man or a wonder of science. I could market you on eBay and we'd be rich.
Caller: Now I am definitely angry
Jack: Don't be, penis envy is really unbecoming. Besides you have no idea about how much trouble these things can be.
Caller: Some people might find that funny, but I don't.
Jack: Have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful woman in the world.
Caller: Many times.
Jack: What an ego.
Caller: You always say that if it is true than it is not bragging.
Jack: Good to see that you listen to some of the things I said. Now how about listening to me now.
Caller: I will, just tell me why you called.
Jack: Fine. I called to say that it has been far too long since have spoken, but you are off doing your thing and I tried to respect that. Since you turned my world upside down I can't figure out how to turn it right side up. But I am not about to beg. You know how to find me. If you miss me, you'll do the right thing. Besides, you are madly in love with me and until you accept that you are going to go off half cocked.
Caller: What the hell does that mean?
Jack: It means that I just accused you of having penis envy again, not to mention said that you are short, illogical and crazy. And I already answered virtually every question you have.
Caller: Sometimes I...
Jack: Not sometimes, all of the time, but I won't hold that against you. Me, I'll hold against you, but that other thing, not so much.
Caller: Don't you understand I...
Jack: I understand it all. I just don't accept nonsensical answers. But let's move beyond that, have I told you how much I dislike the star 69 function.
And from there we progressed into a discussion about Caller ID. I said that I used to dislike it. My fragile male ego didn't like the idea of people screening their calls. What do you mean you don't want to speak to me.
However, over time it has grown on me and now I find that I really like it. This also explains why I need to go to Costco to return the phones I purchased from there. Or actually it offers a partial explanation of why I am going there.
The full explanation is that the Caller ID function on the telephone no longer works. So while twenty years ago I wouldn't have thought twice about who is calling, now I am irritated. Yet another example of how technology has improved my life right into more frustration.
Coming soon, my rant about the Betamax and why the D.H. is an abomination.
But if you are me you have already figured that stuff out so you move on to the great philosophical questions of our time and with laser precision wonder how life without Caller ID was possible. If you are of a certain age you remember a time when few people had answering machines, call waiting didn't exist and conference calling was limited to business.
And now all of those things are commonplace and expected to be part of regular phone service. Heck, long distance telephone calls are think of the past. You don't have MCI, Sprint or Ma Bell trying to convince you that their long distance service is superior any more.
Anyhoo, as those sheep went soaring over my head and across the room I thought about Caller ID and and the famous Star 69/*69 function. You know *69, that is the one that dials the last number to call your phone. I used to hate that one.
You see when I try calling someone I don't always leave a message. Sometimes people dial me back immediately and ask what I wanted. But the truth is that I really didn't want anything special. I was just calling to say hi and when they didn't answer I didn't feel like speaking to the mechanical silence of their greeting.
So every now and then I'll get a call back and we'll go through this silly exercise:
Caller: Did you just call me?
Jack: I did.
Caller: You didn't leave a message
Jack: I know.
Caller: Did you just call me?
Jack: I did.
Caller: Why didn't you leave a message?
Jack: It wasn't that important.
Caller: So why did you call?
Jack: I thought that we might catch up, been a while since we last spoke.
Caller: So why didn't you leave a message?
Jack: I just told you why.
Caller: How are we supposed to catch up if you don't leave a message?
Jack: I don't know, does Western Union still exist.
Caller: I am serious.
Jack: So am I.
Caller: But why didn't you leave a message?
Jack: It is one of the great mysteries of the universe like why would you live with a Dutch muppet.
Caller: That doesn't make any sense.
Jack: This conversation doesn't make any sense.
Caller: Why can't you answer the question?
Jack: For the same reason that I can't stop and ask for directions, because.
Caller: Now I am getting angry, don't be like this. Please answer.
Jack: I did answer, but you didn't like what I said.
Caller: No, you didn't answer.
Jack: How did a simple telephone call turn into a fight.
Caller: If you'd answer the question we wouldn't be fighting.
Jack: And if you had a penis you'd be a man or a wonder of science. I could market you on eBay and we'd be rich.
Caller: Now I am definitely angry
Jack: Don't be, penis envy is really unbecoming. Besides you have no idea about how much trouble these things can be.
Caller: Some people might find that funny, but I don't.
Jack: Have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful woman in the world.
Caller: Many times.
Jack: What an ego.
Caller: You always say that if it is true than it is not bragging.
Jack: Good to see that you listen to some of the things I said. Now how about listening to me now.
Caller: I will, just tell me why you called.
Jack: Fine. I called to say that it has been far too long since have spoken, but you are off doing your thing and I tried to respect that. Since you turned my world upside down I can't figure out how to turn it right side up. But I am not about to beg. You know how to find me. If you miss me, you'll do the right thing. Besides, you are madly in love with me and until you accept that you are going to go off half cocked.
Caller: What the hell does that mean?
Jack: It means that I just accused you of having penis envy again, not to mention said that you are short, illogical and crazy. And I already answered virtually every question you have.
Caller: Sometimes I...
Jack: Not sometimes, all of the time, but I won't hold that against you. Me, I'll hold against you, but that other thing, not so much.
Caller: Don't you understand I...
Jack: I understand it all. I just don't accept nonsensical answers. But let's move beyond that, have I told you how much I dislike the star 69 function.
And from there we progressed into a discussion about Caller ID. I said that I used to dislike it. My fragile male ego didn't like the idea of people screening their calls. What do you mean you don't want to speak to me.
However, over time it has grown on me and now I find that I really like it. This also explains why I need to go to Costco to return the phones I purchased from there. Or actually it offers a partial explanation of why I am going there.
The full explanation is that the Caller ID function on the telephone no longer works. So while twenty years ago I wouldn't have thought twice about who is calling, now I am irritated. Yet another example of how technology has improved my life right into more frustration.
Coming soon, my rant about the Betamax and why the D.H. is an abomination.
Chumus Wars
If you Google the word Chumus, you'll see that my friend Benji has the market locked up on the top results. Today I decided that I just can't accept that so we're taking steps to correct it.
I am going to build a script that inserts Chumus into all 7,000 of the posts here and within no time at all I'll be the top dog.
It is a prelude to the coming marketing storm when our chain of restaurants Chumus King opens up worldwide. Soon the mighty CK will enter the arena sweeping the competition aside and giving hope to inferior and weak falafel balls everywhere.
That whisper you hear will grow from a barely audible Chumus to a mighty roar of CHUMUS!
I am going to build a script that inserts Chumus into all 7,000 of the posts here and within no time at all I'll be the top dog.
It is a prelude to the coming marketing storm when our chain of restaurants Chumus King opens up worldwide. Soon the mighty CK will enter the arena sweeping the competition aside and giving hope to inferior and weak falafel balls everywhere.
That whisper you hear will grow from a barely audible Chumus to a mighty roar of CHUMUS!
Caught My Eye: Best Restroom in America & Others
We have covered this sort of news before.
And in the category of overpriced and probably unnecessary is the Table Top Photo Studio. As described:
The 2008 contest attracted nominations from a wide cross-section of businesses, including restaurants, hotels and casinos. Five finalists were selected based on exceptional hygiene, style and open access to the public.Ten of thousands of votes were cast at the program’s web site, which produced the following results:On the weirder side are people trapped in balloons. All I have to say is "It was The MOOPS!
1. The Hermitage Hotel, Nashville, TN (Click Here)
2. 21C Museum, Louisville, KY (Click Here)
3. Brio, Rockford, IL (Click Here)
4. The Signature Room at the 95th, Chicago IL (Click Here)
5. Smith College Museum of Art, Northampton, MA (Click Here)
I drove one of these cars a while back, it was a lot of fun.Flying the friendly skies is getting to be more interesting by the day. Apparently
some people are utilizing the down time to enjoy adult entertainment. I don't have a problem with porn provided that the actors/actresses are consenting adults and no one is being hurt. (We're going to keep it simple and not get into the complexities of whether porn hurts people or not.)
But I can't help but wonder about people who think that it is ok to watch skin flix in the midst of 350 strangers. Something about that seems awfully strange to me. I wonder where this discussion will lead; as I am sure that there are plenty of action/horror/thriller/comedies or what we call films in general that blur the lines of what is appropriate for display in public.Or should we say that given the cramped quarters of airline seats it is questionable as to whether anyone really has privacy on a plane.
And in the category of overpriced and probably unnecessary is the Table Top Photo Studio. As described:
Sorry, but a hundred bucks for this is ridiculous. There are a million ways that you can do the same thing with things that you already own.Ideal for photographing items such as jewelry and collectibles for online auctions or insurance records, or for providing the proper environment for enhancing the hobby of photography, this is the complete tabletop photo studio for use with your own camera that includes two backdrops, a compact light box with an integrated diffuser screen, and two high output lights with adjustable, retractable legs. It comes with two background color choices to provide suitable contrast for both light and dark objects, and the light diffuser balances light while softening distracting shadows for crisp, clear photo lighting.
The backdrop folds flat for storage, and the set includes a handle and a built-in
carrying case for convenient portability.
Potential Book Titles
Sleeping With The Rabbi- Tales of Sexual holiness
Sleeping With The Rabbi- Blessed Sex
Sleeping With The Rabbi- A Sexual Blessing
Sleeping With The Rabbi- Even a holy man snores
Sleeping With The Rabbi- Blessed Sex
Sleeping With The Rabbi- A Sexual Blessing
Sleeping With The Rabbi- Even a holy man snores
My Visual DNA
Grabbed this from Mark. Not sure that I agree with all of it, but it was kind of fun. In fact, I might do this again. The reason being is that I think I should try taking more time, or maybe it is more honest having zapped through it.
Why Proofreading Is Important
This story comes from the NBC Affiliate in Augusta, Georgia. Look at the on screen graphic. Oops.
Hat Tip to
Livin In Cowtown.Things Like This Always Happen To Me
I don't know about you but I strive to help all people. The first thing I do when I hear the sounds of trouble is grab my sword and run to do battle against evil doers.
For the full story please click here.OCONOMOWOC, Wisconsin (AP) -- A man says he broke into an apartment with a cavalry sword because he thought he heard a woman being raped, but the sound actually was from a pornographic movie his upstairs neighbor was watching.
"Now I feel stupid," said James Van Iveren, who has been charged in the case. "This really is nothing, nothing but a mistake."
According to a criminal complaint, the neighbor told police that Van Iveren pounded on the door and kicked it open without warning February 12, damaging the frame and lock."Where is she?" Van Iveren demanded, thrusting the sword at the neighbor, the complaint said. "Where is she?"
The neighbor told police Van Iveren became increasingly aggressive as he repeated the question, insisting that he had heard a woman being raped. The complaint said that, with the sword pointed at him, the neighbor led Van Iveren throughout the apartment, opening closet doors to prove he was alone.
The neighbor later played for police the part of the DVD he believed Van Iveren heard downstairs."
My Wanderings Part 2
(part one is here)
I learned a lot from number three. The most important lesson was to learn how to duck, tuck and roll. Her idea of marriage counseling was to fling the first object she could find at my head. The devil better pray that number three goes somewhere else. One wrong move and she'll use that pitchfork to explore areas of his anatomy it wasn't made for.
Don't get me wrong, number three had her good points. She lit my fire like no one else. When we were kids we used to fantasize about finding a woman like her. Sometimes the boys and I would sit around telling stories. You could always guarantee that one of us would speak about that girl. She was the one who did things that would get you arrested in 37 of the 50 states. Funny thing about these stories was that girl never seemed to live anywhere close to our neighborhood.
If you asked how they met it was almost always on vacation. I can remember thinking that if I couldn't marry that girl at least I could be her brother. The way I figured it she came from a rich family. Who else could afford to be on vacation that often.
I learned a lot from number three. The most important lesson was to learn how to duck, tuck and roll. Her idea of marriage counseling was to fling the first object she could find at my head. The devil better pray that number three goes somewhere else. One wrong move and she'll use that pitchfork to explore areas of his anatomy it wasn't made for.
Don't get me wrong, number three had her good points. She lit my fire like no one else. When we were kids we used to fantasize about finding a woman like her. Sometimes the boys and I would sit around telling stories. You could always guarantee that one of us would speak about that girl. She was the one who did things that would get you arrested in 37 of the 50 states. Funny thing about these stories was that girl never seemed to live anywhere close to our neighborhood.
If you asked how they met it was almost always on vacation. I can remember thinking that if I couldn't marry that girl at least I could be her brother. The way I figured it she came from a rich family. Who else could afford to be on vacation that often.
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