Well, I’ve been losing sleep lately, and it’s all because of a charity.  And for those of you wondering this has nothing to do with the time I donated to the “Sucker Born Everyday Foundation.” How was I supposed to know that the organization was fraudulent and that children with physical disabilities are rarely called “suckers?”  

I recently became concerned about wildlife and I decided to help conserve the wetlands.  Those of you who know me, know that wildlife has been on my mind for several days.  It’s one of my passions.  

So, I started this new organization, “Ten Individuals Terrified About Losing Our Wetlands." 

So, I set out to save the wetlands.  We organized a big rally to start cleaning the wetlands, and to kick off Wetlands Awareness Day, or WAD.  My world began to crumble during the preparations and the ground breaking ceremony for this monumentous event.

Of course, we wanted some nice pictures of the ground breaking ceremony, so we had to cut down a couple of trees in the offending area (the wetlands).  It was a small price to pay to get the news vans onto the grounds.  I must confess that I was strictly thinking about media exposure and not the wetlands.  It was wrong of me.  

We also had to kill an enormous amount of mosquitos and other critters, in order to ensure a comfortable atmosphere.  It was a hassle swatting every thirty seconds.  We’re not machines.  I know, hindsight’s always 20/20, and maybe that was against our original goal, but it did make for a more enjoyable afternoon.  

The rough spot came when we decided to put up our organizations sign during the big groundbreaking ceremony.  We decided to use long metal posts with points, because we wanted this sign to serve as a lasting testament to our cause.   The sad part of this story happened while I was pounding the sign into the ground.  I heard a small scream, and then another.  Apparently, while I was pounding away I had inadvertently massacred as small pocket of endangered species that were nesting just below the surface.  I apologize.  

On a side note, the crowd turnout was excellent.  Unfortunately, there were so many people that 3 acres of wetlands were destroyed by individuals milling about enjoying themselves.  The beer gardens didn’t help anything either, and two weeks later they still haven’t moved the Port-A-Potties.

I guess the moral of the story is that giving to charity and helping people can never be fun, and that’s why it takes special individuals.   I’m also attending a sleep clinic so I can get some rest. I still have nightmares about killing the Sanchez family (The familiy of wetland creatures I killed).

Technorati Tags: wildlife, wetlands, groundbreaking, Port-A-Potties, mosquitos

The three readers that I entertain on an inconsistent basis, have got to be wondering where I’ve been.  Well, to make a long story short.  

I, took a little breather before christmas and that breather became a coma.  Seriously.  I’m kidding

In my absence, a ton of crazy stuff has happened, and by a ton, I mean very little.  At Christmas I received a card table and chairs.  I was pretty excited.  Think of the possibilities:  Card games, snack displays, Parcheesi, board games, the kids table, it was going to be fun.  That is until I unboxed the tear-proof table only to find the top of the table to be tear-filled.  

I didn’t noticed a big gouge in the box, so I can only assume that somebody  knowingly let the product slip out of the factory.  Who would do such a thing?  Honestly?  I’ve only known one guy that worked at a table factory, and he was rude and inconsiderate.  I don’t think he would put a tear….  Yeah he probably would. Eh, things happen.  

I took it back to Target for a full refund and a smile.  I’m still waiting for the smile (shipping takes approximately 4-6 weeks).  

Technorati Tags: Christmas, parcheesi, card table, Target

I recently started to date a tele marketer.  She’s pretty nice, but I don’t know how long we’ll be together.  We met on the phone when she called to sell me a mattress.  I bought five and she sold me her heart.  It was magical, but she has some good qualities and some bad ones. 

For example, one problem is her voice.  She sounds like a robot.  Her voice is completely monotone, and on several occasions I have misinterpreted it as a prerecorded message.

The other day we were talking on the phone, and I accidentally tripped over the phone.  We were disconnected, but she didn’t get mad.  I’ve since found out that she never gets mad when you hang up on her.  I know this because in one day I hung up on her some seventy three times.  It’s amazing.  Sometimes, I’ll just hang up because I don’t feel like talking anymore.  She’ll be in some big story, and goodbye, I’m off the phone.  I love it.

On the negative side, she can never say my name right.   It’s as if she’s from a foreign country and is just learning the language.  My name really isn’t that complicated, but in three weeks I’ve heard approximately forty-six different variations.  Some of the pronunciations have added letters, and sometimes letters are either silent or missing.  I bought her a couple books on english phonetics, but I don’t think it’s helping.  While saying my name, I should never be able to hear the word “glob,” no matter how thick an accent might be.

Another annoying habit happens when we talk in person.  She always pauses before she speaks.  I can look her directly in the face , when she is alert and attentive, and I say “hello” three times before she responds.  It’s embarrassing at restaurants when the waiter takes our order.  He’ll say, “and for you ma’am?”  And she stares directly at him for like thirty two seconds, and then as if there wasn’t a huge awkward pause she answers.  It’s almost unbearable.

Her verbiage really bothers me too.  She won’t just ask if I want to make out.  Normally, she’ll say something like, “Are you ready for an exciting offer?  When was the last time that a woman touched your lips?  Well, do I have something for you.  If I could offer you thirty minutes of complete romance, would you be interested?”  It’s like that with everything.  I’m not even going to go into how it sounds at the grocery store.  She sounds like she’s reading a sales script.

I guess there’s more negative here than positive, but she’s willing to do anything to make this work.  I don’t know what to do.  Maybe I’ll sleep on it, in my new sleep number beds.

Technorati Tags: telemarketing, phone, operator, sales, prerecorded message

As the regular season of football comes to a close in the next three weeks, I’ve come to some startling discoveries:

I can always see the field better than the quarterback.  I can also throw better than him.  I can see when a sack is coming, and I would never throw an interception.  In fact, I’m actually better than every player on the field in every position.  I am a superstar.  What qualifies me to be such a master of the grid iron?  I sit on a couch and shout at the screen.  And, I occasionally watch ESPN. 

No other time while watching TV, do I alternate so frequently between sitting and standing.  I’m up and down more times than my uncle, and he has prostate problems.  He’s goes to the bathroom every two minutes.

Swearing can become commonplace during the course of a football game.  It doesn’t matter whether you’re winning or losing.  It is however, important to stop swearing when the game ends.  My grandma called, I was drunk, and although I don’t remember totally, I think I said some pretty bad things.  I’m almost positive that I blamed her for the loss.

Most football players don’t want to hear from you, even if you are their fantasy coach.  I had a problem with Julius Jones, and his effort.  I approached him about it, and told him that if he didn’t step it up, the Dane Co. Jobbers would never make it into the playoffs.  I felt relieved to get that off my chest, but like the prima donna he is, he refused to discuss anything.  I received my restraining order yesterday.  This could really hurt contract negotiations for next year.

Technorati Tags: football, ESPN, quarterback, lineman, fantasy football, Julius Jones, playoffs

Everyone hates getting pulled over, especially criminals with outstanding warrants.  I was pulled over earlier today for the first time, and I don’t think I handled it too good.  I had to go to the  station for a couple of hours.   

I thought I’d learned how to handle cops through the years of stories I had heard, and that I was pretty much an expert in the subject.  I was under the assumption that most people being stopped get away with a warning or a simple fine, and that most traffics stops DO NOT involve extensive amounts of jail time like my new experience leads me to believe.  I also incorrectly assumed that the only blowing would occur on the outside of my cell.  How wrong I was.

As it turns out, I was driving down the highway, and seemed to be speeding.  I didn’t mean to be speeding, but it happened.  While accelerating, my shoelace got caught.  I couldn’t pull my foot off the gas pedal.  The resulting situation closely emulated a sequence from the motion picture Footloose, in which Kevin Bacon’s foot gets caught on the tractor during a game of chicken.  It was at this exact moment that I was clocked going approximately 88 MPH.  Surprisingly, my car did not go to the year 1985 as the documentary, Back to the Future, hypothesized.

I finally was able to get my foot off of the pedal and decelerate, just in time to see what I thought was lightning in my rear view mirror.  The lightning struck me as wierd, seeing as it was about three o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was shining.  Realizing that it wasn’t lighting, when I saw the red light, I sped up.  For some reason this was interpreted as a “High Speed” chase.  I was actually relieved when I saw the cop in my mirror because I thought I was going to be safe.

I pulled over right before I hit the blockade.  Apparently, the cops set that up because I was, “fleeing.”  Whatever.

When the cop came up to my window, I tried to think of the ways my friends have managed to get out of tickets.  I immediately pleaded ignorance, and said that I had no idea how fast I was going.  I knew exactly how fast I was going, but I couldn’t tell him that once I got up to 88 MPH, that I wanted to see if time travel was possible.  The ignorance didn’t seem to work, so I went to plan B.

I started to cry.

Weeping really.  I started wailing, and it did nothing.  Actually the cop called me a girl and went to go check on something in his car.  After he left, I realized that he wasn’t talking about my crying, but rather the flame design seat belt I was wearing.  I was testing it!  Anyway, I knew he would never notice my tears passed that seat belt.  I had to pull out the big guns, plan C.

I know several people, who in addition to the water works, add a little skin.  I thought, “what the heck?”  The officer came back to the car and I began to hike up my pants.  They were corduroy, so it was kind of tough.  It took about twenty minutes for me to jimmy them up.  After that he got pretty annoyed, and I decided to come clean.  I told him the story about Footloose, Back To The Future, and all three plans.  He thought I had been drinking and pulled me out for a field sobriety test.  First, I blew for him, and then I walked the line.  You guessed it, my winter fresh gum put me over the limit, and it got real windy when I started walking.

Anyway, long story longer, I was taken to the station where I met LeRoy.  We cuddled.  

It was rough, but I’m out now.  I can’t drive, but I’m out, and that’s not half bad.  I’m due back in court next Friday, I have three hundred hours of community service, and the bribing an officer charge is still pending.  All and all, it could be worse, I could have had a tail light out.

Technorati Tags: police, speeding, jail, bribing an officer, Kevin Bacon, Footloose, Back To the Future, community service

The internet appeared to be getting pretty popular, and it seemed that everyone had a dot com account except me.  I really wasn’t sure if my bank had those accounts, but I thought I’d ask.  It turns out that they don’t, but Margaret, the teller who waited on me, was very helpful.  She thought I might already be signed up, and as it turns out she was right.  This accounts for the additional forty dollars tacked onto my bill every month.

I was already traveling on the information superhighway.  I had been using it for years actually.  I just assumed that it was the the devil’s playground.  

Anyway, I tried this internet thing out and I like it, but I have a few suggestions and criticisms for it’s creator, Al Gore.

One.  Who in the published all of my personal journals on the internet?

Two.  When will time travel be possible through this thing at an affordable rate?  It’s come to my attention that there are several web sites available on the subject, but the pricing still seems to be a bit ridiculous.

Three.  It would appear that any idiot can create one of these addresses, and pretend to be an expert on a plethora of subjects.  Maybe I should take another look at “Lloyd’s House of Stamp Collecting and Rental Equipment.”

Four.  Before someone steals this idea from me.  “Shopping on the internet.”  What do you think?   People never have to leave their houses.  You can do all of your purchasing from your home and we eliminate cash transactions.  Just another level of terrorist security.  

Hopefully, I can find an e-mail address to send this to.  I just want to get my feelers out there.  This whole internet thing could be a tool for change, and maybe someday all urinals will have dividers in between them, and then maybe peoples’ personal issues wouldn’t become common knowledge.

Technorati Tags: internet, information superhighway, Al Gore, porn, stamp collecting, email

I got something for my birthday that is both glorious and repulsive.  My parents got me a deep fryer.  I know what your thinking, and yes it it the greatest gift ever.   Unfortunately, there are just as many cons as there are pros in this debate.  Let’s start with the cons.  

One, I’m cooking all my food in fat.  Yep, fat.  I’m no doctor, but from I understand this probably isn’t the healthiest thing in the world.  My poor heart feels like it’s trying to squeeze the last chunk of toothpaste out.  I’ve also noticed that when I cut myself, I don’t bleed anymore.  

Two, I’m cooking all my food in fat.

Three,  I’ve found myself taking deep breaths after every bite.  I never knew that eating could be so strenuous.  I feel like I’ve run a mile, but I’m only pounding down my forth piece of chicken.  I guess I’m just a lightweight, and can no longer hold my grease.  Although my face seams to be picking up the slack.  

Now on to the good.

I cook all my food in fat.  It tastes so good.  There’s nothing better than melting an animal’s wasted energy and using it to cook other stuff.  Basically, some cow was lazy so I could cook with him.  I applaud that.  I only wish that all my laziness could be used.   Maybe when people die we should stop donating to science and start donating to restaurants.  You could be a fat donor.  Besides, figuring out the best place to put a breast implant, what have scientists done for us lately?  Bird Flu is upon us dicks, hop to it.

I’ve also found that you can deep fry anything, and it will taste delicious.  My hamster Betty died while giving birth a week ago, I fried her.  No seriously, and it was delicious.  I just deep fried a steak, some cereal, a copy of TV Guide, and a bath towel.  They all tasted fantastic.  I’ve started trying new batters too.  The TV Guide was coated with hair gel.  It was the perfect deep fried dessert.  

Another plus, I never dirty other pans.  Besides I don’t have time to be taking pans three feet to the dishwasher.  I’m a busy guy and sometimes you have to cut out some of the extraneous activity in your day.  I’ve also stopped bathing, but I can cook while I go tinkle.

I think I like this deep frying thing.  I love the food, even if it may be unhealthy.  You have to live sometimes though.  So what if I put on a couple pounds?  I’m going to recycle my fat and give it to Bennigan’s.  If I can do it while I’m dead, why can’t lipo-suctioned people donate?  Hmm.  I’ll have to ask the doctor about it tonight, when I go in to take care of all these burns.

Technorati Tags: deep fryer, fat, overeating, eating healthy, deep frying, fatty foods

Even though I’ve been plagued with a plethora of accidents this year (including an undisclosed stubbed toe), and the death of three family pets, I’m still thankful.  Yep, things have been pretty shaky for me this past year and it shows no sign of stopping.  

It started out when my long time girlfriend dumped me for a computer programmer, a chippendale’s dancer, three auto mechanics, and an accountant whom she seems happy with.  I’m happy for her.   Although, I’m upset that she punished my “checking in” with a restraining order.   It’s hard to check up from 150 yards.

Then my car was accidentally compounded because I parked next to Jermaine, my neighbor that turned out to be quite the little drug dealer.  We speak every Wednesday between 1 and 4, and I often kid him about his new bulletproof glasses and his shiny bracelets.  He also made me an honorary “Blood.”   I was flattered.  I also got a cool medal ( I think  it’s technically a broach that was taken from my older next door neighbor, Agnes).  The state ended up buying me a new car, too bad it was an old Volvo.  It’s like driving a refrigerator box.

Despite all of this, I’m still thankful.  I am thankful for so many things, but I chose eight:

1.  I’m thankful for Oven Mitts.  If I didn’t have these suckers, I’d have more burns that I do already.  Apparently they’ve been available for quite some time, even though they’ve only been recently brought to my attention.

2.  The basket that holds all of  my remotes.  I’ll never have one of those taken from my body in the emergency room again.

3.  The bath mat I step onto when exiting the shower.  The broken collar bone is healing nicely.

4.  That I’ve been able to enjoy the gift of sight, even though I seldom take advantage of the gift by reading.  Instead I needlessly kill good cells by sitting too close to the television.

5.  My super model legs.  I admit it, I’m getting a little bit top heavy, but my legs have never looked better.  I credit the lotion I received from my cousin Leo.  He’s an elder statesman for the Waukimo Tribe of Northern Ohio.

6.  That God has blessed my neighbors with seven small children, who constantly cry.  I love sleepless nights.

7.  Tan lines.  You have no idea how many times I’ve been able to convince people that I was wearing a white t-shirt.  Thank you sun.

8.  That God gave me digits.  For if I had no striking sticks I would not be able to type this blog.  I guess I could get one of those voice recognition things, but they’re probably expensive.  I’ll have to look into that.  Anyway, I enjoy writing in my journal.  I love sharing private thoughts with myself, and only myself.  If some one else read my journal, I’d probably die.  

I should probably thank Jeremy.  He set this private personal journal thing up for me.  Thanks Jeremy.

Technorati Tags: Thanksgiving, oven mitts, remote control, tan lines, fingers, thankful

I recently joined a nonprofit organization called Belts Across America, BAA.  The B Double A, was started by a group of trendy individuals that wanted to make seat belts more enjoyable.  

The group formed after the for profit group lost a boatload of money selling belts to prison inmates, who failed to use them properly.   Who would have thought that the official barter program to encourage prisoners to stop smoking would have ended more lives than it saved?  Actually, I don’t think it saved anyone’s life, but it did make Fred in cell block 7’s stay in the clink more comfortable when his pants were properly adjusted.

After the “Buckle Up and Stop Smoking” initiative failed, Ted and Barry Stroman started BAA.  I became involved in the organization a couple of weeks ago when I was kicked off my bowling team.  I guess they wanted someone with a little less flair and a little higher score.  That’s fine, Jerry was a stiff jerk.  “Wife starch the shirt a little too much Jerry!”  Ha Ha… I miss them.

Since I’ve been involved, I’ve helped in the marketing of seat belts.  You know, making them more stylish to wear, in order to increase compliance.  The group had stopped its research for some time after they tried the automatic seat belt.  It was a critical failure.  

Many of the owners were even lazier than they expected and couldn’t take the time to buckle the waist strap.  15% of automatic seat belt owners lost their voices from violently cursing at the mechanism.  The remaining 45% owners choked to death.  It was a huge scandal that was brought to the national arena with the NY Times article, “Black Mazda Lynches White Man:  Payback Sucks!”  

I was brought in to liven up safety belts.  Here’s what I’ve come up with.  A napkin belt, for eaters on the go.  It was rejected.  It made the cars smell like ketchup and even though Bounty said they had “new” stronger paper towels, they couldn’t support a human body.  

Another idea of mine was to make a giant car seat for adults.  I contacted Greco, but we ran into a little snag when we realized that if a guy had to put his wife in an enlarged car seat, he wouldn’t be able to buckle himself in.  It was a vicious cycle with no conclusion.  

Another idea I had was to install roller coaster style restraints into cars.  Due to the increased amount of whiplash it was canceled.  Although I know a lot of people were making good money taking pictures of people while they were driving, and selling them when they got out of the car.  Sometimes people looked scared and others would put their hands in the air to show how brave they were.  Car accidents in the month of November have increased ten fold.

Anyway, I wanted to give you heads up about some of the new seat belts you can expect shortly.  I’m still testing the bathroom belt, but hopefully it will be ready for the holidays.  Now, off for more research!

Technorati Tags: seat belts, prison, automatic seat belts, Bounty, paper towels, car seats

I went on a date last night.  A blind date really.  And although she wasn’t blind she did have a wooden leg.  I think it was pine and it looked beautiful.  The craftsmanship was top notch, and not only was it varnished, it had a clear coat of polyurethane on it.  

She let me touch it, and I made a joke about how smooth it was.  “I bet you don’t have to shave this much!,” I said.  She seemed to like the joke, but then went into this really boring story about this time that she got it wet and it warped.  Apparently, it got water logged and turned into the consistency of a wet graham cracker.  

Everything was going great, and then I started to ask her some questions, “What size shoe do you wear?” “14 Wide,” she replied.   She wasn’t lying.  When my friend Donald set us up he told me she was, “a bit toned.”  It turned out that I had misunderstood Donald.  She was toned, but there seemed to be a lot of extra toning, as Donald clearly meant “big boned.”  I’m not going to explain my confusion when I thought he said, “She’s missing her bag.”  As a goodwill gesture I even went to the police station to see if someone had turned in my future date’s bag.

I left empty handed.  

I then asked her to tell me a little bit about herself.  And she did.  She wouldn’t shut up.  I this, and I that.  She just kept talking about the most trivial things, like her family.  My dad did this, and blah blah blah blah.  I mean seriously,  I didn’t want her whole life story.   She went into this whole spiel about her name, and where she works, where she grew up, and what her hobbies were.  

It was boring, and I think I fell asleep sometime between, “well, my name is,” and “I had a really good time tonight.”  Outside of the leg everything was a blur.   

Seriously though, the conversation did stop dead in it’s tracks when I asked her why people call her the “Capt. Sparrow.”  To the lady I went out with last night.  I apologize.  

She really beat me good with that leg though.  Next week I get the cotton out of my ears!  Anyway, that’s the last blind date I go on.  At least until my hearing comes back and I stopppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp…………. blacking out.  I’m not going to let one bad date spoil my fun.

Technorati Tags: dating, blind date, wooden leg, big boned, first date, talking