Everybody feels better making fun of someone

Everybody feels better when they are making fun of someone. It is a tautology that is completely irrefutable, like "space takes up space" or "you'll shoot your eye out." Luckily everyone has someone to make fun of. In the US most people can make fun of Alabamians, Alabamians can make fun of Mississippians, Mississippians can make fun of Arkansans (Arkansawers?), Arkansans make fun of Louisianans, Louisianans can make fun of West Virginians, and West Virginians either don't get it or they make fun of their neighbors or Alabamians. The point is, no matter how bad we have it, there is always someone worse off than we are, and we should make fun of them (I am lookin' your way 'Bama).

Anyway.... I have a shit-ton of work that has to get done, in a relatively short amount of time, and my list seems to get longer and longer. This list keeps lengthening because of incidents like the one I had happen to me yesterday. One of the Board of Directors dropped by my office yesterday with a retired employee in tow. I have had the displeasure of working with this old coot before, and it was not pretty. One cannot in any good measure say "no" to one of the Board and expect not to do the work eventually.* So anyway the geezerly gentleman with no life other than his past employer** needs us to add his pointless busy work tasks to our already bloated checklist of activities. Whence I have had the displeasure of working with this particular relic of engineering's past, it has always taken much much longer and much more work than was initially described. So far we have just finished his initial request, but I am waiting with baited breath for the old codger to come back and ask for the impossible. It will come tomorrow around 10 AM, if my "Old Coot Schedule" is correct. Oh well, this mountain of work will not complete itself, no matter how long I ignore it.


*I could have said, "No, we really do not have the time to make this dotery old fool some maps pro bono. So, if you would please, shove off." but the Board guy would have gone to my boss or my boss's boss and said make him do this. This way I cut out the middle man and look like I am a happy team player. We are, after all "All one Team.

** When I retire, there is literally no chance anyone will ever see me again at the office from which I will retire. Work is an unfortunate necessity in my life that I would easily forego if I had the means to.***

*** I need my wife to make us independently wealthy. She is our only hope seeing as how much brighter than I am she is and all. Maybe my child will pull us into a life of leisure...

A boot on your head

Lately, there just have not been the "opportunities" to spout out tons of vitriolic prose due to a single occurrence. In other words, there have not been any singular specific incidents for me to blog about with tons of caustic remarks. The stuff that has been going on lately is more of the moderate systemic stuff that just grinds on one until they are a weeping puddle of melted Jell-o brand pudding pops. Unfortunately for you reader folk, that does not make for the most interesting of blog entries. I am sure you were all touched and awed by the "Silly things I do not like" but that post lacked a certain bit of magic in it, a certain "je ne sais quoi." Please do not mistake this as complaining on my part. I am rather happy that nothing particularly untoward has occurred that has been directed at me or those around me. It makes for a much more pleasant existence, but it also make it a bit difficult to write sarcasm. This, of course, leads me into today's entry...

Nothing in the world says "Do not touch," "Does not play well with others," or "Bat-shit crazy" like someone wearing a boot on their head. If you see someone who has footwear atop their skull, give them a wide berth, for they are indeed bat-shit crazy. I am sure you are saying to yourselves, "I am of above average intelligence, I know things, I do not think that someone wearing a boot on their head is the strongest indicator of someone's break with reality." Well let me make my case for you.

Firstly, 75% of Americans think they are "above average intelligence," so we cannot all be correct in that assumption, you pompous jerks. Personally, I would be happy if I am above median intelligence. There are some nasty statistical outliers pulling the "average" IQ to a rather low number. For example, someone wearing a boot on their head will pull the average IQ down more than a newly minted PhD physicist can bring it up. In truth, someone with a boot on their head will actually draw people's IQ's down as they get closer to the boot-headed individual. This decrease of IQ in proximity to someone with footwear on their noggin is due to the increasing puzzlement of why someone has a boot on their head. The progression looks something like...

1. Just catches sight of the boot headed individual. "Does that guy have a boot on his head?"
2. Confirms that the person indeed has a boot on their head. "Oh my gosh, that guy really has a boot on his head."
3. Puzzlement. "Why on earth would he choose to wear a boot on his head?"
4. Study. "Is that a new boot or an old one? How is it staying on that man's head? Does it shade his eyes like a hat?..." etc...
5. Obsession. "If I got a boot, could I figure out how to wear it on my head? Do I tie the shoelaces around my chin to hold it in place..." etc...
6. Trial and error. A new person is now wearing a boot on their head.

...and point 6 brings me to my second point, so without further ado...

Secondly, one does not simply place a boot on one's head and have it stay there. One must figure out how to affix the footwear to one's head, indicating forethought and dementia. The boot must be big enough to fit on one's head. So a search must be conducted to find footwear to fill that bill. There has to be a cause to wear a boot on one's head as well. A boot instead of, say, a tin-foil hat that keeps the government's controlling rays out. In short there is trial and error associated with wearing a boot on one's head. I have yet to see any behavior that indicates "Do not touch," "Does not play well with others," or "Bat-shit crazy" better than the person wearing a boot on their head.

In summary... Boot on the head = bat-shit crazy

Silly things I do not like

I cannot stand the word "ointment" written or spoken, but especially spoken. Something about its existence is abhorrent to me. I am fine with the concept of (and this is difficult for me to write due my loathing of it) ointment, just don't refer to it in that horrid way. Poultice, salve, cream, rub, balm, emollient, or lotion, just not "ointment." Puts shivers down my spine just typing the accursed word.

I also am averse to the word "packet." Mostly when it is spoken. I always hate going to informational seminars and conferences because they invariably give you a packet of information. It is usually in a cheap folder, so I think that is how it should be referred. "If you could look at the yellow sheet of paper located in the right pocket of your cheap folder of information." Just call it what it is. The only true packets are data packets being sent and received by computers with this thing that some call the Internet. Everything else is a bag, folder, or some such thing. "Packet" is just that kind of word for me.

I do not like eating cold lunches. Cold cut sandwiches, veggie tray etc... I need my food warmed up, like it has been freshly killed cause that is the kind of badass I am. I do not have a problem eating cold stuff for lunch as long as it is accompanied by something warm. Cold cut sandwich is fine if there is some soup with it. Carrot sticks are perfectly acceptable when associated with a warm sandwich.

I do not like waking up before 9 am. I do it everyday because I am an adult and I have responsibilities that need to be attended to, but I do not like it one iota. I am always tired if I wake up prior to 9. Even if I went to bed at 7 pm the night before, I am tired when I wake up before 9. Oddly enough, I usually do not feel tired when I am fortunate enough to wake up after 9 am even when I did not go to bed until 4 am.

I do not like to get into conversation with people I do not know. At supermarkets, bank lines, stores, etc... I do not know you, don't talk to me. I will be civil (barely if you ask my wife) to the talky stranger, but rarely nice and engaging.

If I continue to outline these dislikes of mine, I am sure all of you who actually know me will start to consider me one boot on my head away from the nut-house, because nothing says crazy like wearing a boot on your head.

I thought of a topic yesterday afternoon

I thought of a topic yesterday afternoon, and then promptly forgot it. It was a killer topic too. The kind which makes all bloggers salivate at its sheer awesomeness. It was a topic that I am sure would be captured in one of those 5 minute CNN Headline News human interest pieces that they do at the end of their 30 minute loops. I would have been on Late Night with Conan O'Brian chatting about how I came up with such an incredibly poigniant and witty post. The post would have gotten me recognized in Google's most viewed websites list for today. It would have crushed Blogger.com's bandwidth, reducing their servers to smoldering ash piles of network equipment. Researchers would have been enlightened to the cure cancer due to this topic. Israelis and Palestinians would eat dinner together (all of them at one gigantic table that ran from Turkey to somewhere in the Nile basin). Our military presence would no longer be necessary in Iraq, Afghanistan, Korea, etc... because World Peace would ensue whence world leaders were given copies of my post to read during their daily briefings. Dog and cats would sit down and play poker. It would have been translated into at least 137 different languages (including Elvish and Klingon, because geeks would hail me as their hero). The planets would have aligned. A harmonic convergence of heavenly forces would have ushered forth from the firmament to push humanity forward evolutionarily. We, as a species would have transcended our mere physical forms to become part of a spiritual universe of calm and peacefulness. There would indeed be doughnuts for all. All of this due to my most magnificent post ever. Alas and alack, the topic was promptly forgotten. So, instead you got this.

I don't want to write today

I do not want to write today, but I decided in October that I was going to write everyday that I was at work. So I will write, but I will not like it.

One of the main reasons I do not want to write is an utter lack of material. You see, even in the most beneficial light, I lead a boring life. What did I have for dinner last night? Spaghetti. Ooh, look how exciting my life is. Spaghetti, I bet you wish you could live that exciting of a life. What did I do last night after eating spaghetti? Cleaned the dining room. Does it get any more exciting than that? I think not. Well at least for me it does not. Spaghetti and cleaning, whoooo-weeee I do know how to live it up. I got up early this morning so I can go with my little one to his allergist appointment. Again, excitement abounds. We are hoping that the Dr. tells us that he is no longer allergic to anything. Then we can get him some more varied dietary choices.

I have 3 active projects that I am working on at work right now. One of those projects just hit me with the insane amounts of work bat yesterday. But that is to be expected with this particular project. The PM on the client side has a problem saying "No" to anyone other than us. He consistently promises things that are nigh impossible to deliver. Somehow we do, but it usually involves just plain wrong levels of work. So I have tons of work to do whilst at the job. Tons of work really cuts into the interesting distractions aspect of work life. Oh well.

I am sure that I will have a rip-snorting good time this evening cleaning the living room. Envious? I thought so. Sorry about the whininess of this post, but I truly have nothing interesting going on for me at the moment. Maybe I will be inspired later on today, or hopefully, at the very least, I will be more inspired tomorrow.

Bad naming convention

So, in a conversation that I had with a friend earlier this morning, He came up with one of the worst names I have ever heard. Luckily it is a fictitious name, so no harm, no foul. The name he came up with was "Percival VonBeatme." Other than some laws on the books, this is the reason that I think he is not allowed to reproduce. His is a genetic line that should die with him, but he has brothers with kids, so it won't. I am holding out that eventually Darwin will end that line or dilute it to the point of obscurity. Thank you Darwin. The existence of his brothers' children is irrefutable evidence that Intelligent Design is not a valid theory. It has to be just dumb luck that has gotten that gene pool mistake this far. If I did not know better his family probably has webbed feet or some such. Mutant. And I say all of that with love and kindness.

This does make me wonder about how bad names could be. My doctor's last name is Butcher. I am glad she never went into surgery. "Paging Dr. Butcher to the O.R. Dr. Butcher to the O.R."
Sounds almost like a crappy super villain. But my docs name does not really enter in to what I am talking about. What I am talking about is just plain bad made up names such as Percival VonBeatme. Just plain horrid names. Not the ones that Bart pranks Moe with, a la "Amanda Hugginkiss." Or those faux authors who wrote faux books, a la "Yellow Snow by I.P. Freely." I'm talking about just plain crappy fictitious names. Everybody comes up with them to talk about people either that we know or people we have encountered that we did not know their names. It’s human nature to make fun of those we know, and especially those we do not.

For example when someone I know does something inherently clumsy, I would call them "Trippy McFallsalot." If someone I do not know does something rather clumsy I refer to them as something like Edna Fumblefoot or Mike Kersplatsky. Absurdly naming those we know and do not know is fun and, typically, funny. Percival VonBeatme would be the kid you did not know who always got their lunch money taken. As a side note, any name with Floyd or Wayne in it is typically comedy gold.

On another note: Little one is on Orapred again. Ergo, he is a cranky little boy now. Oh well, today is his last day of that medicine.

Cleaning up just doesn't mean as much as it used to

Cleaning up just doesn't mean as much as it used to. i am tidying my workspace up today, but I am fairly sure that by tomorrow it will be a mess again. And I don't even work on Friday’s. Heck, it is questionable if I worked at all this week. With the little one being sick and my general malaise, I think the effort I have been able to muster has been a bit below par. Did I mention the little one was sick again? Yep, he has a cold. We are hoping that said cold does not progress into something asthmatic, but that would be a first since in 6 months. We are not terribly hopeful.

Back to the topic at hand.... I remember when I first started working at this wondrous company, when I cleaned my desk, it stayed clean for like a month. Now, with all this crap filtering through to me, I am lucky if I see desktop for more than a day. That saying about cluttered desk: cluttered mind... well, it is appropriate to a point. The mind has been going this way and that for a while now. It has been somewhat difficult to focus on one task at a time recently, but I think a lot of that has to do with the amazing number of tasks that I have coming at me regularly.

Speaking of regular, the little boy is now eating oatmeal. Eat your heart out Wilfred Brimley. He also has been only eating things that has been closely associated with vast amounts of tomatoes during the cooking process. That amazing consumption of the fruity vegetable has caused a bit of a reaction to the citric acid found in the tomatoes. He still only wants tomato based stuff. I guess he will be rashy for a while then.

And to the topic at hand.... More tasks seem to have exponentially increased the amount of physical crap I have to deal with in my deskish area. That and supervising two people seems to have increased the clutter in my head. Maybe a clean desk will help the old noggin as well.

Speaking of Noggin, the little one loves to watch Blues Clues. I find it to be an odd show to say the least, but if he likes it, then it is a great odd show.

Back to topic... Clean is good. Ummm... I think that is it for the day.

For some reason...

For some reason the little man wanted to be shirtless the other day. (See attached picture below) Far be it from us to deny him that right. So, shirtless he went. At least he was shirtless for a bit, then it went to complete naked time. He loves him some naked time. It usually causes him to dance a bit. I guess if he had bongo drums he could have a scandal, a la Mathew McConaughey. Well, I guess he would need some weed and another naked guy dancing with him as well... oh, and to be famous. It is not really a scandal if one is not famous. It is only a news item from the local police blotter if someone is not famous.

And now for something completely different... ( I really dated myself with that reference)

I cannot believe that it is already February. And that happened yesterday. Speaking of which, I really feel bad for the month of February. It is the tiniest month of the year. I am sure that is why it is black history month, but that is a different story all together, and I will not get into it in this particular forum. I do try to be a-political in this venue. Honestly. No really. Anyways... February is pretty much the left over month of the year.

February is the month that was stolen from by July and August. Everybody remembers Julius Caesar and Augustus Caesar, but Julius's step nephew once removed, Februarius, is not so well renowned. He did good things. He is known for his many and varied inappropriate uses of gravel. I guess that is why his month only has 28 days (typically).

Abercrombie & Fitch ain't got nothin' 

I hate getting to work early

So, one might ask, "Other than just the fact that you are early, why do you hate getting to work early?"

Well, let me tell you. It is the little things really. I have to turn on the lights, printers are not warmed up, the ambient noise that is associated with an office is missing (it's quiet), there is nothing to distract me from accomplishing work (except for a certain blog), and when people who are usually here earlier than you get in, they always ask you why you are in so early.

Other than that, it is great. No, really. It is like having to come in on the weekend, without losing your weekend.

Nextly, one might ask, "Those reasons for disliking coming to work early are all well and good, but why exactly did you have to come in early this morning?"

Good question. The woman who watches my darling little boy is sick, so my wife and I are doing some creative scheduling to get through this time of caregiver illness. It really is unsurprising that this woman is sick. Number 1: (ah, my favorite method of emphasis, the numbering of things) she watches a little kid who gets sick and then sicker. Lots of germs around the little one. Number 2: She had her hip replaced in late November, so her immune system is not quite up to snuff. And Number 3: She has Lupus, so her immune system is really and truly never quite up to snuff. I imagine that she will be sick for the rest of the week. Especially when she is describing an illness that seemed to knock my relatively healthy self down for 3 days. She can watch the little man next week; we will smurf something out for this week. We are bright folk, we can figure it out.

So I will be getting out of the office for about 4 hours this afternoon. My PTO schedule is going to Hell in a hand basket. Not quite sure as to why "Going to Hell in a hand basket" is a saying at all. Why would someone carry a "hand basket" to Hell? And what am I doing in said hand basket (other than going to Hell)? How large is the person carrying a hand basket that can fit a 6'2", 215 lbs man. At that point, doesn't every basket become a "hand basket" because the person is a giant? I have so many questions, and no one to answer them, I am in early after all.

Novelty Posting

Okay, so today I am going to bow to my betters.

Today is all about linking to more sarcastic folk than I am.

Firstly, Weight Watchers has been around for a while, and they really do have a better menu now.

The best part about the Internet, is the wealth of useless and limitless information. Case in point: "The Book of Ratings." This is an amusing sight that rates pretty much anytyhing and everything. I suggest finding the post about the Superfriends.

Speaking of Superfrineds Enjoy ... Might not want to look at this one whilst at work.

Finally, a blog that made me want to blog for myself. This blog belongs to Dusty Scott (sure that seems like it is a soap opera name, but one can not hold that against him). This post is the best post known to man. Ever.

make sure you look at the "next entry" button, for even more covers.

Maybe tomorrow I will be inspired to actually write something for myself.

Time

Right off the bat, I want to let everyone out there in cyber land know that I have good clean teeth.

But on to matters of more import.

Time is a relative thing, but no matter how relative our sensations of the passage of time, things take time to get done. I do not know how to emphasize this enough to some of the knuckleheads that I have to work with. It has come to my attention, yet again that people managing projects think that the work we do magically takes no time. It takes time to convert files from what we use and print from, to what they can view and print out. It takes time to convert paper scaled maps to be ready for viewing on the web. Sometimes it take an inordinate amount of time to change the color of some text. The file sizes that we use are ginormous because the density of data associated with our tasks at hand are typically rather, err..., well..., dense.

Sometimes we run up against actual physical production time limits. Say some one wants 200 copies of 14 graphics. We have a printer that can spit color pages out at a rate of 11 per minute. After we get the file into the printer, that comes out to about 4 hours 15 minutes of physical printing time (if we don't slow things down went changing toner, toner refuse bins, paper, fusers, etc...) with no complications at all. Typically, the job requires some sort o presentation of those graphics in a format more orderly than loose sheets of paper, so let's say that the graphics need to be inserted into a larger text document and then spiral bound. It takes around 20 minutes per binding. So after the graphics have been printed we are still looking at an additional 4 hours and 40 minutes of collating and binding time. Just for production alone, we are at 8 hrs and 55 min, more than one full work day. Typically, each graphic takes about 15 minutes to open and get stored into the printer for final production, so that adds another 3 1/2 hours to just the production time. These are constant time sinks. Actual graphic edits take varying amounts of time on top of this 11 1/2 hours of production time for something as simple as a 200 copies of a report with 14 color pages.

Every time I explain this to a PM, they are always surprised at the actual amount of time it takes to finish things off in production, even after they have been finished pre-production. Sadly, this has been explained multiple times to a handful of PM's (I'm looking your direction, Asshat!)

Oh, well, enough of my ranting. My week is almost done.

My dentist is a needy needy black hole of need

My dentist is a great dentist, I just think they are a bit overzealous or something.

I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon; they made me schedule this appointment 6 months ago. Just like they make me do every time I go to the dentist. About 3 weeks ago, they called to see if I could drop in to do an appointment because the dentist had an opening. Number 1: Who drops in for a dental appointment? Ooh, ooh can I poke the sleeping bear with the pointy stick, can I? and Number 2: Is the dentist really the person that spends the most time with me during my dental visit? I see the actual dentist for, at most, 5 minutes. Let's be clear, the dental hygienist is the one who's schedule needs an opening. They are the ones who scrape and poke and prod your teeth, use the whirring tooth polisher with its gritty foul tasting glop. They are the people who focus on you for around 30 minutes. The dentist, unless you are getting a filling, looks at your mouth and says, "Yep, still got teeth." or "Ooh, gonna have to make an appointment for me to do some painful things to your mouth."

So, I did not take them up on their offer of an early detal exam. So, yesterday they left a message on the house's voicemail asking me to call and let them know that I am coming to me appointment

"me appointment?" Good Lord, I stop paying direct attention for a second and I start typing like I am a pirate. What the hell I will go with it

on the morrow, arrrgh. I says to me woman, I's do, "Arrgh, Woman! Why's do tha scurvy bastards at the teethery needs me to call them for a meetin' they mades me set up a summer ago? I understands if they be callin' me to reminds them that I gots the appointment, but whys do they be needin' me to call'em back.?" oh yeah "Arrgh!"

Okay enough of the pirate.

Anyway... On top of that, they want me to bring in a listing of all medications that I am currently one. (I will use the numbering system again; it seems to be an effective form of showing my incredulity) Number 1: The list is too long and too varied to bring in. It would take forever and a day for me to compile the list of legal and illegal substances coursing through my veins at the moment. Or maybe I could all 2 of them down and give it to them which leads me to... Number 2: What the Hell does my dentist need to know about my medications? It is none of my dentist's business if I am taking medications, how does this affect tooth decay? Focus on the teeth dental person.

I am fairly certain that we will have a message from the dentist's office again on the home voicemail. They seem to call us a whole bunch. Maybe they are lonely.

Update about Wheezy McAsthma

Little Man is doing better today. He seems to still have a little bit of congestion going on, but his breathing was not as audible this morning. I think he is probably getting a cold, we are just hoping that it won't progress this time. We have been diligently giving him his preventative meds, so we are hoping that they are going to do the trick and keep him from going all asthmatic.

So, little one is doing ok, but work is a different matter all together. We are on version 1.4 of the map that I got to draft form early this morning. I have crossed my fingers and sent the most recent version to the PM for his use. The data that I was given to work with was enigmatic at best, absolutely baffling more than not. Something like 38 layers of information, and none of them with any sort of information about what data was contained on any of the 38 layers. Absolutely tiresome. Back to work for me though.

Disharmonic convergence

So I am at work really late, or really early, pending on how one looks at it. There are 2 causes to my being at work at 1:20 in the morning on this cold Tuesday morning. It could only be the planets aligning to completely screw me for this to be where I am at the moment.

Firstly: One of those "Is there anyway you can make a map in a day?" requests crossed my desk around 9 am yesterday. The person in question is a middle man, of course. The project manager did not ask directly for me to spend an inordinate amount of time working on a map for a report that was supposed to go out later that day. That being said... when said PM is the head of your division and your boss's boss, you really have no option but to say, "Sure that should not be a problem. The sooner you can get me the data for me to start working the better." Workspeak for "Thank you, may I have another." The data in question does not show up until 11:25 am, whilst I was at lunch. Hey, a guy's gotta eat. Feverish work ensues.

The deadline is pushed back to Tuesday morning, through no mis-action on my part. So I decide that I will go home at a reasonable hour so I can play with my boy, and just get up stupid early to finish off the task at hand. My little one is riding high on a full 8 days of finally feeling well after about 6 weeks of ailments ranging from diarrhea to some kind of stomach fluish thing. This is foreshadowing for those of you not paying close attention, and it leads me to...

Secondly: While the little one is playing, right before taking his bath, the wife and I notice that little man is sounding a little bit raspy in his breathing. With a child with asthma, this is not a good sign of things to come. So we bathe the little one and then give him a breathing treatment right before we put him to bed. I run into work to finish the map, so in case Wheezy McAsthma needs to go to the E.R. tomorrow, I can take him without worrying about that stupid map for my boss's boss with time management issues (did the report sneak up on them? I think not).

I have completed a good first draft of the map, and now I am about to head home to my potentially sick little boy. I hope that it is just some congestion, but I am really worried that It is going to be worse than that. He's had 8 days of feeling good, what was I expecting? Wellness for 2 weeks? I was sooo foolish.

Hey, where's the white death?

Firstly: My wife wanted me to mention to all that I have changed the setting to allow anyone to post a reply to this blog. It was a setting buried deep within the blog's settings that I did not know about when I first set this thing up. So, now, if you want to post a reply, you do not have to be a member of "Blogger" to do so. Of course, if you are working for the same people that I am working for, you will not be able to reply at all due to our surf Nazi program. For some reason it equates posting a response to going into a "chat channel." Whatever, I don't want hear what you people say anyway.

Secondly: On to today's topic...

It seems that the weather models predicted way more snow here than actually landed. We were warned about 17 feet of snow with polar bears and yetis attacking people who ventured outside, but we got 4 inches of snow over the course of 48 hours instead. Oh well, I was getting geared up for taking on a yeti. One of these days I will wear a yeti as a coat. Oh yes, I will wear a yeti as a coat. A warm coat of yeti fur will be my protection from the elements. So it shall be written, so it shall be done. Maybe the next computer predicted snowstorm will actually produce yetis for the slaying. Oh well...

So we dodged the white death one more time. Even though we dodged the snow that just beat the crap out of the Northeast, most of the schools around here are either closed today or delayed in their start. I assume it is due to the cold temperatures, because the roads are fairly clear and pretty much ice free. Or are teachers just not that hearty? Granted they do have a job that is the equivalent of herding cats, but their work year is 1/4 th shorter than other professionals. The shortened time frame, should make up for the constant head ache of dealing with children. Then again, it could just be that the principals don't like getting up in cold cold winter mornings. I say, "Suck it up, Buttercup, no one likes getting up on cold cold mornings."

Okay enough bitterness from me, I have work that needs to get done anyway.

Shake it up

I just thought that I would shake up the formatting in a minor rather superficial way. It is fresh it is new it is just a tad different from the other color scheme.

Just been working hard today getting small stuff done. A little of Project A, a mote of Project B, an ort of Project C, a mite of Project D, skipping Project E, and a heaping hearty healthy portion of Project F. It pays the bills. I have gotten a little bit of flack from co-workers about not having this up-dated earlier in the day, but, I have been working for my job, so I don't really feel I need to explain further. Most of them have been buried today as well. That and I like being a wanted commodity. I cannot believe so many people are interested in my insipid musings. It really is quite flattering, as long as the interest is not in that "sociological experiment" kind of way.

Turns out that the white death will be upon us again. The forecasters are predicting something like 17 feet of snow with 6 inches of ice spikes sticking out of the ground for clumsy winter walkers to impale themselves on. What is funny is that the forecasters really do not forecast like they used to. It used to be a seat of the pants educated judgment made by the highly trained individual by observing current and recent conditions. They made their predictions form that. Now it is all computer modeled simulations. They look at the simulation and make their "predictions." What we see on TV is more of a play-by-play of the simulations. I am not saying that meteorologists are not highly trained and educated individuals. My masters degree program was closely associated with an atmospheric sciences curriculum. Very intelligent people, very intelligent indeed. That being said, the people on TV are typically not the cream of the crop. The creme de la creme are working for NOAA, NWS, or in research universities staying behind the scenes making the modeling software that the TV guys use.

So, due to the impending blizzard conditions, I am going to be going to the store to get water, bread, canned goods, frozen food, and other staples for survival. I want to be well fed when the white apocalypse lays waste to Central Ohio. I will need to be at my best to drive back the throngs of near death, starving, frozen denizens of the Columbus Ice Sheet. I am fairly sure we are gearing up for another epoch of continental glaciations.

Sometimes I wish I had an exciting life

This blog would be much more memorable if I had an exciting life, but I do not. It would be much easier to come up with topics if something other than everyday things happened to me on a regular basis. But everyday stuff is all I have so here goes....

So far, the elves are taking a break today in their incessant digging operations in my forehead, so hopefully I can concentrate a bit more coherently today. That is, of course, assuming that my lack of recent concentration ability is a direct result of the Faerie excavation crews lodged in my skull. Either they are conducting a psychological experiment or an archeological dig, but I have yet to figure out which. With this lull in Elvin activity, one would think that I might be able to produce a cogent thought, but one would be wrong. Today I have nothing. Absolutely nothing, zip, zilch, nada, rien, bumpkiss, the big goose egg, zero, nichts, zilch, oh wait I already did "zilch," hmmmm okay I am out of these synonyms...

The most interesting thing from yesterday was a nearly fruitless search for a lid for left-overs. It is amazing how we can retain almost every container, and yet almost all of the lids have uprooted and left. Well, they make cling wrap for a reason, and oddly enough, it is not for insulation, but that is a different story. I am sure the lids are somewhere playing cards with all my missing sock pairs.

Turns out, as I was corrected by a friend, that the Mennonite Consortium is not intimidating the Quakers. Actually (as they call themselves) the "Religious Society of Friends" are pretty much as badass as one can be and still claim to be pacifists. They are not afraid to put the full might of their non-violent ways to bear on the Mennonites, and those Chin-Beards are a bit scared by the prospect of a "Friendly Circle of Ass-kicking." Thanks for the correction. I am a big enough person to admit when I am wrong.

Splitting headache

Have you ever had one of those headaches that feel like tiny elves are trying to break out of your skull using dull and inappropriate digging equipment? Well, that is the headache that I am dealing with at the moment. Having the Elvin headache has really bit into my ability to effectively work at my job. Stupid tiny elves and their tiny inane digging implements.

Speaking of mythical creatures, the 7 dwarves in particular, how much better would life be if we all had names that derived from our actions a la Sleepy, Dopey, Sneezy, etc... I could see job interviews being much quicker, as Bossy weeds through resumes from Lazy, Slothful, Greedy, Over-Rated, and Inappropriate. I am sure he would focus instead on Industrious, Innovative, Effective, and Kiss-Up. With this naming convention, I am fairly sure that Asshat would not have gotten very far. All in all I think I would get tired of being known as Caustic though, so maybe it is not a good idea, but being known as Caustic would be better than Farty.

So today's post seemed to derail before it even got started. Well, that is the way of nasty headaches caused by excavating elves.

As an up-date, the little one is doing much better today, as well as doing pretty well yesterday. Now all he has to do is gain back some of the weight that he lost during the illness that most people called December.

On another note, so far the Mennonite Consortium has not put a hit out on me yet, and I stress the word "yet." I am sure that soon enough I will have some chin bearded assassin tailing me home from work. Well, let me just say that I am on to you Hezekiah, so you and Jebediah need to just back off. I am sure that the Mennonites are unhappy about my outing them as the bad boys of outside the main stream Christian sects. Lets just say that the Quakers are quaking for good reason. I think I might have said too much now.

MLK Day

For some this is a holiday, for others, like myself, it is a Monday. I so do not want to be at work today, but work does pay the bills, and bills need to be paid. This day means so little to most people. It is a day to not go to work, to school, to where ever.

Funny enough, in the not so funny "hmmm" sort of way, MLK Jr's birthday oddly occurs on the same day as Robert E. Lee. I know in Alabama there was a constant "joke," if it can be called that, surrounding the idea that in actuality MLK Day was an excuse to celebrate Robert E. Lee's birthday. But we all know how big of a cultural behemoth and intellectual giant everyone considers Alabama. They may, and I stress may, be thought of more highly than Mississippi, but that is about it.

Oooh, I probably made Alabamians mad again. Oh well. Luckily most Alabamians are afraid of leaving the state, so I do not have to worry about any sort of retaliation. That, and they would need to be Internet capable to see this blight on their state's good name. Making fun of Alabama in a web-blog, is about as dangerous as making fun of the Amish. They are never going to know that they were made fun of. That being said... trust me, you can make fun of the Amish, just be careful about those Mennonite sons of bitches. They are some nasty mf's. They feel just fine throwing down their "vengeance from God" arbitrarily and capriciously. And if one were to give them reason, let's just say it would not be pretty.

Oh well, my company is not paying me to be here to whine about being here, they are paying me to act like I am working on a project. So, off I go to act like I am working.