Corporate Lunch... RS

I’m still fairly new at my job.  I like the people, I like the positions and I like the location.  But the way that my team is set up is rather strange and for the most part we almost never see each other.  In fact at our staff meeting last week I actually met two people on my team who I didn’t even know existed.  So in an attempt to do a little team building I decided to invite my team out to lunch this past Thursday. 

This brilliant idea hit me early in the day and I sent out an email to all six members of my team including my boss asking them if they all wanted to get together.  That was at 8am.  At 9am I had received no responses…  At 10am I had received nothing…  As in zero out of six response.  At 11am, not a goddamn thing. 

Finally at 12:30 I gave up the ghost and decided just to run out and get something myself.  I grabbed my suit jacket, put on my top coat and headed for the exit.  I got to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for it to come…  Then the doors opened…

I stood awestruck and sickened as, standing before me, was my whole team… all six of these mother fuckers coming from lunch together.  They all had bags of half eaten subway sandwich and half drunken cups of soda or juice…  And as they got off of the elevator all six of these assholes tried to act like they didn’t see my ass standing there.  They all just kinda looked at the floor as they walked out and turned the corner back towards the offices.

“I’m right here you fuckin assholes!!!!!  I’m right here!!!!!  I invited all of you all to lunch and you went without me” I thought to myself.

Sad, sickened and disgusted, I got on the elevator and went to lunch alone.  The whole time I was eating I just knew that when I got back I was going to have at least a few emails telling me that they would be happy to go to lunch and that I should meet them at subway…  When I got back, nothing.  Not one damn email…

I CAN’T PAY A MOTHER FUCKER TO GO TO LUNCH WITH ME AT WORK……………  

Insomnia... RS

Unfortunately for me I have battled with insomnia for the better part of the last 10 years.  If you have the grave misfortune of dealing with such a plight then I greive for you because dealing with it has been the bane of my existance.  I can only speculate as to how and why it began but the reasoning behind it is simply irrelevant.  The painful experince is far more importnat than the reasoning...

Insomnia is a cyclical experince, meaning that when that mother fucker shows up it hangs around for a few weeks... maybe a few months and then leaves only to return to fight anonther day.  I'm currently in one of those horrible cycles and I'm catching about 2-3 hours of sleep a night.

Recently, in an attmpt to battle this horrid demond I turned to the mythical treatment of... Counting sheep.  Yes....  I tried couting sheep.  Lots of sheep...

I sat in a field alone in an old wooden rocking chair slowly rocking back and forth and stroking my beard.  One after another the little white sheep slowly trootted in front of me before leaping into the air over a low wooden fence.  Their agility was quite shocking to tell you the truth and the process of couting them was actually somewhat soothing at first.   I was quickly lulled into a sense of peace and sleepiness...

Hours later and nearly 4,500 sheep counted, I found myself still wide awake and far more angry and frustrated than I was when I started counting.

4497, 4498, 4499... and after that I could take no more.  The 4500th sheep move quickly toward the fence.  I leand forward in my chair.  As it approcached the fence for its ballet like leap... I struck...  Like hungry lion rushing atelope I charged...  As the sheeps hoved feet left the ground I aslo leaped in the air chatching him in stride and driving him into the groud like Ray Lewis snatching some fool running back out of the air as he tried to dive for the end zone.

Despite catching him completely off gaurd the sheep was suprisingly quick and agile.  He was back up to his feet in no time.  I barrell rolled over and qucikly jumped up to my feet.  But before I could steady myself the sheep caught me with a sharp right hoof to my left eye.  I stumbled back a step or two to regain focus.  It was then that I realized he was standing vertically on his back legs with his two front hooves held up in boxer like fashion.  I was stunned.  He caught with me another short right and a left cross before I could defend myself.  He clearly saw my confusion.  It made no sense to me that I had just gotten punched in the face by a sheep and he was taking advantage of my awestrucked stature.  That alone was enough for him to get in a few good shots before I could counter.

His hooves where lightning quick and right away I knew I was out matched in the standing game.  My only hope was to untilize my wrestling background and take this sheep to the ground.  As he drew back to throw another hoof I changed levels and dropped down to his legs.  I hooked both my arms around the back of his cavles and drove upward lifting him into the air before driving him into the ground with a text book double leg takedown.  Once he hit the grass I qucikly I attacked him with vicious ground and pound.  I reigned down elbows and forearms on his snout.  With him on his back he was clearly out of his element.  I dominated him on the ground as he worked to scramble from underneath of me.  My overconfidence in this position however got the best of me when I went for a choke hold.   The slickness of his coat mixed wit the morning due of the meadow made it difficult for me to get a firm grip on him and he rolled out of my grasp and jumped back up to his feet.  This sheep was experienced.

As he rose I rushed him again.  He set up quickly and was ready to throw another punch.  However, I could see the disorientation in his eyes.  My guess is that he never fought a wrestler before and had never spent any time on his back.  Clearly he wanted no part of my ground game.  I knew he was more confident standing so I had to play this one smart.  I engageded him quickly looking to lockup with him.  I figured I could out muscle him. Speed and agility were on his side but I knew it was unlikely that he spent any time in the weight room.  I intentionally telegraphed my forward movement trying to goat him (or should I say sheep him) into throwing an ill advised punch.  He did.  As I moved forward he set up to drop me with a powerful right cross.  I changed levels again to avoid the strike.  His hoof flew over my head and as I came back up I saw my opening.  I slid a half step to my left creating enough space for me to deleiver a killer left hook.  He never saw it coming.  I caught him flush behind the ear.  He was out as soon as I connected.  A splilt second later he was on the ground laying face down in the soft meadow.

I jumped up and raised my hands in victory like I had just knocked out Rampage Jackson.  The championship was mine....  But then I made a few horrible realizations...

1.  The sheep that I just knocked out was getting some sleep right now.  The whole purpose of this exercise in couting sheep was for ME to get some sleep.  Now I'm standing in some field in some unknown location having just battled a sheep... and I'm still awake...

But perhaps more importantly...

2.  I'm all by myself standing in this field in some unknown location surrounded by 4,499 angry sheep hell bent on getting some revenge for their fallen brother...

I turned to them... balled up my fist... and got ready.  These sheep are going down!  There would be no sleep that night...

RS

"If it doesn't kill you..." RS

I am not one who condones violence (for the most part anyway) but let me say this…. The next person who tells me “If it doesn’t kill you it will make you stronger” is going to get beaten with a baseball bat without any evidence of mercy or remorse for an extended period of time. And after the aforementioned savage beating has been administered I am going to stand over them and wait for an hour before asking them how they feel. My guess is that they will in fact feel weaker than they did an hour before despite the fact that the beating did not kill them. To test my theory I will then drop a large filing cabinet on top of them to see if they can move it. If they cannot we will put this foolish saying to bed.

RS

Tastes like what! LB

I was at the local Cinnabun (conducting some research on cinnamon and it's varied uses) and while at the register (merely, getting some background information from the cashier) I heard two men in back of me talking about Cinnabun. 

Apparently, the one man had never tasted a Cinnabun before (of course, neither had I.  As I don't eat carbs anymore.)

So he asked, "What's the big deal, what do they taste like?"  His friend replied, "They taste like Jesus."

The answer borderlining on both sacrilege and cannibalism was still quite possibly the best description I had ever heard.  After that, how can you NOT buy one - so I did.  (Strictly for research purposes!)

LB

QVC.. LB

I am no longer a QVC virgin. 

I was flipping through the channels when I just happened to stumble upon a the greatest channel EVER! 

What made me stop in my tracks was something so amazing, so cool, so awesome and fantastic that I will actually get around to telling you now.  It was a Brita.  But not your run of the mill Brita you find at your local grocer or CVS.  This Brita had a filter that screwed in, unlike it's predecessors. (demarking it's upgraded coolness)  It also has an electronic alert that tells you when it's time to change your filter.

I've included a small Brita commercial for you viewing pleasure.


BUT let me tell you what made me even consider it, in the first place.  They poured GREEN water into the filter and out came the clearest water I'd ever seen not on a postcard.  Out from that filter fell DIAMONDS I tell you.  I'd never seen clearer water as I did that evening while viewing on my (circa 1996) 13inch non-HD TV/VCR combo.

And the clincher.  I was ready... ready to make the jump.  But something was holding me back.  Yea that's right... they JUST added in another filter!  A thirty dollar value for FREE!  What!  But it still wasn't enough.  I still couldn't bring myself to purchase ... until...  I saw the small timer at the bottom of my screen.  It said I had 1:51 seconds to make a decision.  With just 45 seconds to go, I was on the phone. 

Turns out calling is a hassle.  I was just put on hold FOREVER, so I hung up but I got the same on-air deal online because I ordered it while it was still on air.   

So in 6-8 weeks I'll be getting the worlds foremost, top-of-the-line portable home water filtration system, delivered straight to my door. 

LB

The Lawn Mower Man... RS

There are idiots running around all over the place.  These morons walk around freely without fear of consequence.  They prey on those of us with some level of intelligence and poison us with their idiocy.  They have no shame and will go out of their way to ensure their mindless rants of foolishness are noticed by all.  If only there was some way to avoid them entirely.  Alas, we normal, sane individuals are left with no way of telling them apart from others.  That is of course, until they open their mouths. 

Once upon a time, I lived in a pretty decent neighborhood, in a pretty decent house previously occupied by my grandmother in Columbus Ohio.  My family owned the house so I was paying cheap rent. I was pretty happy with the situation.  It was an older neighborhood with a ton of retireers with nothing to do, other than sit around and wait for the grass to grow, so they could cut it.  


Unfortunately for me, I had not yet reached that point in my life. I was back and forth to work five days a week, traveling like a mad man and trying to unwind on weekends.  Too often, I never got around to mowing my lawn. It was huge and often took over an hour. Yeah, I had a mower and I was more than physically capable of doing it myself, but why? 

Being lazy as hell, I looked into a few landscaping companies.  One of my aunts had found a guy before. He actually did the lawn on my house, after my grandmother moved out, and before I moved in. So adding the place back into his rotation would be relatively easy, I figured.  Plus the guy had been mowing it for a few years.  He charged me $35 each time; a little steeper than I wanted to pay, but you can’t really put a price tag on your time, effort and energies can you?

After a few weeks with the lawnmower man -- paying him $35 per week -- my mathematical reasoning kicked in. I was paying this guy $140 a month for no reason at all.  I knew it was time to stop being lazy, but something in me just wouldn’t let me make that leap.
 
Nonetheless, I finally called him up and told him not to come by. Going forward, I would have him do it every other week.  This well-conceived plan saved $70 a month, and still keep me from having to mow my own lawn.  Brians over brawn, I like to call it. 

Two weeks pass.  Since my neighbor was retired, and mowed his grass seemingly every single day, mine was looking pretty bad.  So I gave the old lawnmower man a call.  He called me back a day later, to schedule a time the following day and this is were the idiot within him came out, in full effect.  The charge would be $70 he told me.  What the hell?  Now I’m no Einstein and I’m certainly no calculus major, but I thought the charge was $35 per cut. 

The conversation with this jackass went like so...

Me:  “Why is it going to cost $70 this week?  You didn’t mow it last week and I’m all caught up with my payments.”

Moron:  “Because there is two weeks’ growth on it?”

Me:  “What?!!!!!!?”

Moron:  “Well it is twice as long, and will take me longer so I have to charge more.”

Wait a minute....  You have to be kidding me, right?  Who does this guy think he is, and more importantly, who does he think he is dealing with?

Me:  “Are you kidding?  You have an industrial riding mower and you don't bag the grass clippings. It will take you the same amount of time as every other time you mow it.”

Moron:  “But there is two weeks growth on it.  It will take more time.”

OK.  This conversation is not going the way I want.  Talking to someone who must believe that I am stupid is frustrating.  I decided to use his stupidity against him.

Me:  “So how much do you charge each time you do it?”

Idiot:  “$35”

Me:  “So if you are only mowing it one time this week, I don't understand how you think I would owe you $70.”

Idiot:  “Well, I did it two weeks ago and there is now two weeks of growth on it.”

If this guy says “two weeks of growth” one more time I’m going to lose my mind.  This has to be the worst negotiation offence I have ever heard in my life.  Sorry buddy, you’re not getting over on me today.

Me:  “I understand that.  So then, are you saying that if I wait 3 weeks it will be $105?  Does the cost just grow with the time and the grass?”

Jackass:  Silence

Me:  Four weeks means $140?  That way you’re sure that you always get the same amount of money each month right?

Idiot:  More silence.

Me:  Hello...?

Dummy:  “There would be more growth on it.”

Oh my God in heaven.  How the hell has this guy made it this far in life?

Me:  “You know what?  I think I'm going to start doing it myself, since I don't understand your rates.”

Moron:  “OK, I'll cut you a break on Friday and do it for $35.  How about that?”

What a deal.  I just negotiated this idiot down to his normal rate.

Me:  “No thanks.  I know that my math isn’t the greatest, but yours just lost you an account.”

Then I hung up on his stupid ass.  The next day, I was mowing my own lawn in 95 degree heat.  I guess that’s what I get.  But at least I still have my $70.  Two weeks of growth, huh?  I don’t understand stupid people.  I really don’t. 


RS

4:50am.... RS

At 4:50am one morning I awoke to the sounds of someone knocking shit over in my living room. No way in hell that could possibly be happening, I thought, rolling back over.


At 4:52am I heard the same sounds again. Only this time it was much louder. And now I was wide awake and 100% sure someone other than me was in my house. The adrenaline overwhelmed me.

I sat up in bed with a big-ass smile and thought to myself “Hell yeah!” It’s about time! I’m about to fuck someone up!"

I had been waiting for years to have the opportunity to deliver the equivalent level of physical pain and suffering to someone that I had experience mentally and emotionally during the last thirty years.  If you’ve read a single story on this blog up to this point I’m sure you understand why the prospect of taking someone out might seem delightful to me.  Now was the time to put a stop to someone’s ability to walk upright and breathe. Some fool burglar picked the wrong house to fuck with and now a steep price would be paid.

I grabbed the tomahawk from under my bed. Yes, I have a tomahawk under my bed. Why you might ask? For times just like this! That’s why.

I slowly opened my bedroom door, and tip-toed down the hall. I heard the noise again, and realized what it actually was. There was no one inside of my home but rather someone outside of it. Someone was beating on my door. Disappointment shot through my body as I realized I would not be able to just run into the living room and detach their head from their body with my handcrafted Instrument of Mayhem. Who the hell would be beating on my door at 4:53 am? Doesn’t matter. This is the last door that they will ever knock on again…

I walked to the front door; my lethal weapon of doom in-hand. I yanked the door open; tomahawk concealed behind my back but still ready to strike.

Much to my surprise... it was the police...

Fuck!!!!

My tomahawk and jaw both hit the floor at the same time. My mind was working at 100 mph. I wasn’t ascertaining why the police were visiting this early in the morning. I was trying to figure out why the chance to bludgeon the skull of some poor unsuspecting burglar had just been stolen from me by Johnny Law. And why was he shining that flashlight in my face? Perhaps if I was to kill this dude, I would be justified and exonerated. Madness by light blindness seemed like a reasonable defence?

"Sir, your car alarm has been going off for over an hour, and the neighbors called us."

My car alarm is going off? Just then I realized that my car alarm was in fact going off. I don’t know how I missed the loud sound. Perhaps because I was too busy getting ready to commit murder, and call it self defense.

Long story short... something had tripped the alarm in the middle of the night (probably a stupid squirrel, or some such thing). After turning off the alarm and watching the cops climb in their car and drive away I picked up my tomahawk and walked sullen back to my bedroom, without having collected my kill.

God spends whole days laughing at me. Of this I am certain…

RS