God Looks Out for Babies and Fools... RS

There is an old cliché that says God takes care of babies and fools. I believe this to be true because this past weekend my little girl turned 10 yrs old. She is my baby… and I am a fool… and God has taken care of us both.

Have you ever had one of those moments as a child where you looked at your parents and just wondered how and why they were granted the right to be parents? My daughter has one of those moments every time she’s in the same room as me.

Flash back eight years or so. My family was slated to arrive in town. I forgot to set my alarm clock. Shit! Now I’m running late to pick them up from the airport… Now I have to hurry to get me and my kid ready.

OK, how am I going to do this? Well, I guess I should just get myself ready while she is still asleep, then get her ready when I am done. Or, I could wake her up, get her cleaned and dressed and then let her eat while I’m getting ready. Or, I could get ready and just pick her up and put her in the car asleep. Or, I could put her in the bathtub and let her play in the water while I wash up in the other bathroom. Or I could just leave her here with my roommate and his girlfriend. The possibilities were endless. Sensory overload set in.

After sitting there for 20 minutes deciding how I should handle the situation, I realized that I had in fact just wasted 20 minutes. I sat there for another five minutes stressing out about how I had just wasted 20. After reconsidering all my options one last time, I finally made a decision: get her washed, give her something to eat and then you get ready.

I hastily picked her up from her crib.

In case you don’t have children you might not know: you should never hastily pick up an 18-month old. It’s just stupid. Picking her up so quickly startled and woke her.

But being awake wasn’t a problem. Her screaming because I’m a dumbass was. I tossed her on the bed and took her clothes off, amidst her cries and pleas for help. I figured once she was in the tub shit would be cool. Kids love the bathtub. They can slosh water around, they can play in the bubbles, and they can eat soap. The tub was the answer.

At that moment the worst thing that could have possibly happened did happen. I had a great idea.

I’m not going to put my 18-month old in the bath tub. That would take too much time. I’m going to give her a shower.

Yes, the shower. This is going to be great. I’m going to save time, and everything is going to work out for the best. My mind was racing at 100 mph as I took handfuls of water from the shower and dumped it on her to get her wet. Never mind that now the bathroom floor is soaked. It’s cool because this is all part of my plan.

It gets worse. Implementation of the next stage of my master plan... putting soap all over her. Let’s step back for a minute, and take a good look at what is actually taking place. A naked, freezing, screaming 18-month old girl in the middle of a bathroom; her idiot father sitting on the soaked bathroom floor, in his boxers, lathering her up with Dial Body Wash.

It gets worse still. After feverishly lathering up my offspring, I put the finale part of my masterpiece to work. I got up off the soaking wet floor, picked up my soapy, slippery angel, turned on the shower and shoved into the path of the water. She screamed like there was no tomorrow. Figuring the water to be too hot, I turned up the cold water and shoved her back in the H2O’s violent path.

The screaming continued, but I figured it was cool. I had about half the soap off her at this point, so I was confident that she was going to make it thought the ordeal. The only problem was that I really couldn’t rotate her 180 degrees, without actually getting halfway in the shower myself. I was kind of leaning and twisting and turning, but I was just missing too many spots.

By this point I was so wrapped up in plan execution I had forgotten her screams. I now had one leg in the shower, and was trying my hardest to get the last of the soap off -- while she kicked and yelled and spit water at me. I just didn’t know why. The water was nice and warm.

Hearing the screams for help… my roommates girlfriend came to assist me… She walked in and there she saw… a naked, soapy, dripping 18-month old held captive in a stream of rapidly moving water. Her father standing there in soaked boxer shorts, with one leg on a slippery floor, and the other off-balance in the shower…

“What the fuck are you doing,” she asked. Rightly so I think.

People should have to pass a test to have children… I’m unfit to be a father even now… but I continue to try my very hardest…

Happy Birthday Baby Girl…

RS

The new microwave... LB

On Monday the microwave at my office died.  And I being the least senior person in my office with a corporate card was tasked to purchase a new one.

As I looked at the old microwave so unceremoniously removed from it's perch atop the kitchenette, I couldn't help but to reminisce.  I had a lot of memories with that microwave.  Like how it always smelled like bacon from when I made my morning and usually afternoon bacon snacks.  The rest of the office complained, but I never understood how someone could not love having the sweet smell of bacon welcome you everytime you open the microwave door. 

I also remember the day I set a small to moderate fire inside of it.  Good thing our smoke alarms don't work!   BTW... my fire had nothing to do with the untimely demise of the microwave.  I set that fire a year ago  The blackened ceiling of the microwave served as a cautious reminder that metal thermouses do not belong in the microwave.  All in all, it was a good friend that served our office well.

Before you go... can we take a moment of silence for a fallen camrad. 

Key to looking important at the office... LB

Hello Readers

If you have ever watched Seinfeld, one of funniest episodes was when George explained how looking annoyed all day at work made him appear busy to all his fellow coworkers.


I thought it was ingenius, so I decided to take my own spin on it and share two very important tips that have carried me far into life... and high up that corporate ladder of lower middle of nowhere management

Part 1 - Keep your desk an unorganized mess

I can find stuff in that heap of garbage I call my office desk, but others, not-so-much! This is good because it prevents people from rummaging around and finding stuff like drafts of my posts for this blog. But also, when people see stacks of papers, all around you, they assume it's because you have a lot to do. When in actuality, I just save everything in a misguded attempt to CYA...  I've become one of those horders on A&E.

Part 2 - Make em wait....

This also happened by accident. Typically people come by my office and ask me for help. Usually I am more than willing to oblige but I never simply get up right then to assist them. Why? Well usually because I keep my pants unbuttoned for maximum comfort at the office and standing up would not be a good idea. This also means I have to be UBER vigilant about open zippers when walking down the hall, but you know what. It's a small price to pay. My coworkers, think the delay is because I'm finishing up some important report, perhaps synthesizing a plan for world peace. Who knows, but it works like a charm. Sometimes, while they wait, they may figure out a solution, and leave me free to continue doing whatever non-work related activity I was doing before they interrupted me.

Readers, take these tips to heart and maybe, just maybe, it will land you the promotion you've been dreaming of.

LB

Ordering for One... LB

I discovered this little Italian sandwich place down the street from me. It’s in walking distance, so I’ll often head down on foot. It’s my way of earning my calories while also discovering more about my new neighborhood. Whenever I’m there I often get a lot of food. Mainly because I’m too lazy to cook and need enough to last me a couple days, and also, because I am greedy.


I don’t want to be that girl who lives alone and orders copious amounts of food. Even if I am that girl who lives alone and orders copious amounts of food.  So I make up an imaginary person that I’m also ordering for when I get to register. A typical order will go something like this.

Hi, I’ll take a order of X and a side of Y …. And oh yea… I'll also need to order a large Z as well… for my friend... Yes!  My friend will also need a two liter of ginger ale as well.  (I really do use those exact words!)

Now I’m at the register thinking I’m a genius mastermind. They’ll never know it’s all for me. But the guy at the register sees through my geniusly crafted façade and will ask if my “friend” needs extra cheese or a particular condiment. The sarcasm drips from his mouth like the grease from whatever I've just ordered. I’ll simply reply, “no” and grab my large bag in shame and rush out the door, usually with a fry or two already in my mouth.

Keep in mind, I do this EVERYTIME I go there. Even though they know there’s no one else eating the food. I feel like I’ve started something and now I have to see it through.



LB

Georgetown Hoyas and DC Sports... RS

I try my best not to take my personal feelings about things and put them on this blog…  But today I will do just that…. 

Just look at this picture!!!  Its says it all...

Fuck Washington DC sports!!!  The Redskins go 4-12 this year including a lose to the Detriot Lions who until that point had not won a game since Christ was crucified… the Capitals get up 3-2 on the Penguins in Hockey on to lose 4-3 while the Pens go on to win the Stanly Cup…  The Hoyas kill Duke, Villanova, Syracuse, UConn and make it to the final off the Big East Tournament only to get blasted in the first round by Ohio University, a team that me and four of my co workers could bean 4 out of 5 times. 

I’m a Redskins season ticket holder…  I’m selling every ticket next season b/c we just picked up Larry Johnson who’s got more miles on him than my old Chevy Blazer and Rex Grossman who has vagina (no offence to any of my readers who actually have vaginas).

I’m a pseudo Georgetown season ticket holder in that I’ve got the hook up to go to pretty much any game I want to go to at any time during the season.  I won’t be partaking in that hook up next year as I’m boycotting that shit because Gtown is bunch of Choke Artist.  Fuck Georgetown!

The Nationals (who sometimes forget to put the “O” in their name, fools)  signed the greatest rookie pitcher in the last 50 yrs and paid him $15Million even though to date he has done nothing yet.  He will fail miserably this I promise you.  Why?  Because he’s here in DC and DC sports are trash!  Fuck!!!

All of these fools have been letting me down since I was 12 years old ( the last Redskins Superbowl victory).  I give up on all of them… until next season when I promise you the Redskins will be 14-2 and win the Superbowl and the Hoyas finish 27-3, win the Big East and then the National Championship.  You heard it here first people!  Write it down!  2011 is DC’s year!

And stop sending me hateful emails and text about the Hoya’s losing yesterday.  I get it you bastards!  I saw the game!

RS

Holistic Health... RS

Warning… this is not my normal funny type of blog about how my life is a disaster...  Well I guess it kind of is…

I hope this comes off right and for the first time in my life I don’t mean to offend…  Well, yes I do…

Although I don't love my job... my company is very good.  Every week they host some kind of Holistic Life seminar to promote life balance.  They encourage employees to attend as many of these as possible and all but mandate that we attend one per qtr.  I think that's great.  This might be the first company I’ve worked for that gave a damn about its people.  I've been here six months and  yesterday I went to my second seminar.  It was on “Eating Right for your Body Type”.  I'm into health and fitness so that was right up my alley...

So I walk in... and it’s me and two white guys (I’m a Black Male if this is your first time reading this blog)... and every black/overweight female administrative assistant in the company.  Now I have no issues with Black women specifically and I have no issue with overweight people.  Many of you who know me know that I myself used to be overweight.  But I can’t stand Black people when they embarrass me in public by virtue of simply being "Black"... 

These women talked through the whole presentation and had an adverse comment about everything the poor presenter had to say...  "Oh black people don't do this and we don't do that...  We don't eat like that... we don't cook like that... we can’t workout like that…  it’s not in our culture, etc…"  On and on for the entire hour! 

Meanwhile back at the ranch... the poor woman giving the presentation IS A BLACK WOMAN!!!!  I could not get out of there fast enough.  It was killing me having to sit there and listen to excuse after excuse for not trying to better yourself.  I spent most of the time thinking to myself… Why the hell did you even come here today anyway?  To waste this poor woman’s time?  To kill and hour of work?  Clearly it wasn’t to better yourself.

When I left I wanted to stop and apologize to the speaker for my people’s behavior... but then I remembered... I'm a Dark Indian named Tonto Jenkins who makes war clubs and spear.... so I simply walked out of the room in shame...

Am I out of line people?  Am I asking too much?  Am I missing something there.  Let me know.  I’d love to get some feedback.  I promise to be funny again in my next blog…

RS

Avoidance.... RS

For the last two business days I have managed to duck my boss entirely....  Good days for me.  However this morning.... when I got on the elevator... there that mother fucker was....  Goddamnit!!!!!

Him: "RS, I haven't seen you in days.  Have you been avoiding me?"

Me:  "Yes, yes I have actually."

Awakware silence.  Doors open.  I walk out and never looked back....

I will get fired today...
RS

Not as good as I used to be.... LB

I become more and more like my mother with each passing day.  One painfully obvious moment was just last week. 

Before we go there we must take a small trip down memory lane. 

Picture it: 
Christmas 1991, I had just gotten the Super Nintendo game system and my mother had challenged me to a game of super mario kart.  I was killing her!  Slaughtering her!  It was glorious!  After a thorough beating my mother puts down her controller and says.  "You may have me in this, but I am the queen of jacks"  She them pulls out this dusty squede pouch from the kitchen (I always wondered what was in that thing) and began to challenge me in a game as old as the sweet saviour himself.  I said "You can't compare JACKS to the superior gaming experience that is Super NES."

Fast forward to last week...
I was on the phone with a dear friend and had expressed my desire to get a PS3 (that is Play Station for those non gamers) instead of a blue ray player.  My friend replied something to the effect that I shouldn't bother because I suck at video games.  I replied, "Suck as video games, my Tetris scores are off the richter"  My friend pretty much shut down that conversation by saying "I don't believe you just used your Tetris scores to prove your need for a PS3." (those may not have been the exact words but that was the gist.  Actually the real gist is that I am a loser... hence the need for this blog. 

I might as well throw out the old Birth Control packs and start pushin out babies, cause when it comes to video I'm on straight mom status!

Darn shame really.

LB

"Who are you?" "I'm Batman..." RS

Yesterday I went to the barber shop to get my hair cut.  This is not a process that I typically take any joy in at all.  I hate waiting in line.  I hate listening to all of the hip hop gossip that I have little or no interest in.  “When is Lil Way gonna go to jail?”   I don’t care.  “When is so and so gonna drop their new album?”  I don’t care!!  The only thing I do enjoy about its is during football season when I get to talk shit about how my Redskins will crush whoever they are playing.  I do on Saturdays during the season because if I went on Sunday I would simply get made fun of because my team in counterfeit.  But I digress…

I tried to pay as little attention as possible as I sat there listening to Meet the Press on my Ipod.  There are just more important things going on in the world than whether or not the neighbors know Trey Songz name or not.  But just when I think this is just going to be another day at the shop… it happens…

Batman walks up in that mother fucker…  Yes, Batman…  The Caped Crusader…

By that I mean some fool walked in with an actual Utility Belt!!!  Four, maybe five cell phones all in belt holders hanging from this guys belt.  At least two regular pagers clipped to that very same belt.  And old school Time Port 2 Way Pager that dropped out of rap videos back in 2001 (I got rid of mine last summer but to my credit it hasn’t been activated since 2004).  This man also had a Swiss Army Knife or a utility tool of some kinds that I can’t even begin to fully describe and what seemed to be some kind of a nail filing set complete with mirror.  There was so much technology hanging from his waist that he has to have testicular cancer from all of the radio waves by now if he didn’t already have it already.

While all of that was disturbing and made him look rather foolish it was the grappling hook that really took the cake.  This dude actually had a grappling hook hanging from his belt.  Who the hell has a grappling hook hook?  I sold mine back in 2007 and replaced it with pair of suction cups.

I swear this fool all but kicked in the door to the shop like somebody's hero and stood there in the door with his hands on his hips staring all of us down like we where the Joker, the Riddler and Two Face.  He looked like a circus clown standing there with his belt lighting up like Marry Go Round and his knives and self propulsion devices shimmering in the light.

Now, I’m not one to make fun of people as I myself am a complete and total disaster… but who the hell is this guy and why isn’t is possible for him to just give out one phone number?  Maybe I’m seeing this the wrong way.  Can I get some help from the congregation?

RS

The Painfully Obvious… RS

This blog is going to be horrible… but I’m putting it out there anyway…

In this current economy I am certainly just as happy as the next guy to have a job.  Unemployment is nearly 10% and I’m the first one to admit that I’m no one special.  I could be gone tomorrow and no one would even notice.  I mean the last thing I want is to see my little girl wearing tattered and torn up clothing while standing in line at the soup kitchen because Daddy ain’t shit. 

But just because I’m thankful to have my job doesn’t mean that I like this shit so I’m always on the lookout for something new.  Yesterday morning I got reacquainted with an old associate who works in Human Resources for a company that I would have some interest in if given the opportunity.  The best part is that this individual reached out to me…  That’s always a plus!

I told him what I do, what my strengths are, what I like to do and what I think I think I would be best at.  I even explained to him the facets of my current job that make me unhappy.

After a 30 minute conversation, this fool came back with… “Well the first thing you need to do is updated your resume…”

SLAM ON THE BREAKS!!!!!  THROW THAT SHIT IN REVERSE!!!!!  BACK THE FUCK UP!!!!!

After thirty minutes of conversation this clown comes back with updated your resume!  He has not even seen my resume yet and he suggests that I need to update it already… which means one thing to me…  This fool is a talking head with simple talking points.   He probably wasn’t even listening to me.  And what’s worst?  That was pretty much the end of the conversation.  He didn’t have much more for me.  Why did you even bother to reach out to me with that shit?

While it may make since that my resume may need tweaking for certain jobs… how stupid is that response really?  If you are looking for a job of course you need to update your resume.   How about some suggestion on how?  How about a few suggestions on what I might need to focus on and who I might want to talk to…  No…?  That all you got man?  Nothing more?

That got me thinking about other painfully obvious stupid shit idiots could say to you in your time of need.   Below I have compiled a small list.

Statement:  I’m fat and sloppy.  Help!

Response:  Hmmm… Maybe you should workout…

Rebuttal:  Great!!!  How about a workout plan?  Maybe show me a thing or two in the gym?  No…?  That’s cool.  I’ll just workout.  I’ll be over at the bench press trying to hurt myself if you need me.

Statement:  I’m in middle of the desert and I’m dying of heat exhaustion and starvation.  Help!

Response:  Hmmmm…  You should probably try to cool off and get something to eat and drink.

Rebuttal:  Great!!!!  Perhaps your dumb ass could point me to a cactus to suck water from or perhaps a recently dead camel that I could tear the flesh from and eat while sucking the humps dry…  Seen any trees I could stand under for shade?  No…?  Oh don’t worry about then.  I’ll just hold my hand over my face and drink my own sweat.  After that I’ll eat one of my own fingers.

Statement:  Hey, I’m drowning over here.  Help…

Response:  Hmmmm…  Maybe you should get out of the water.

Rebuttal:  Good call dick!  Any idea of how I might do that seeing as how I’m fucking drowning over here.  Maybe you could toss me a life preserver or even a tree branch.  No…?  Ok, no big deal then.  I’ll just try to get out of this water that I’m drowning in.  While I do that could you please grab my towel?  No…?  Don’t worry about it then.

Statement:  Yo, I’m trapped underneath of this car.

Response:  Wow.  You should probably try to get from underneath of that thing.  Man that shit looks heavy. 

Rebuttal:  Good idea.  I think I’ll try to get from underneath of this car…

Now you know that last rebuttal was as fuckin stupid as the response.  So my question is when you tell me to update my resume what should my response actually be?

Response:  Ahhh… Good idea.  I will update it.  I will change the date ahhhh…..

I’m reminded of a scene in John Milton’s Paradise Lost.  In the opening sceen Satan is trapped in the fires of Hell for 10,000 years after being defeated by God.  He cries out to his right hand man (whose name I forget) that he wants out.  To which his friend replies “We’ll let’s get outta here.”  Then they get up and leave.  You mean after 10,000 years you didn’t think to just try to get up and bounce?

Foolishness!!!!

Am I being too obtuse here people?  Please let me know.  Drop me some comments.  Maybe I’m out of line but isn’t all that shit painfully obvious?

RS

Please pass the tissues... LB

There's nothing like being a woman. You know like having the ability to pee standing up. Market value salaries.  The ability to lift heavy objects without the fear of breaking a nail or the ability to grow facial hair without judgement. OH WAIT... That's men... yea being a girl sucks!

With the amount of estrogen seething through my pores it causes issues - to say the least! The worst occasion happened to be when I cried while driving home from work at a Wachovia radio commercial for identity theft. For some reason knowing that Wachovia had my back if I were to become a victim was too much for my heart to handle.

Yesterday afternoon, I come home and as usual immediately turn the tv on. I happen to stumbled upon a jif peanut butter commercial and by the end I could feel the tears welling up. I have included the commercial because I want you to see how much this is NOT a tear jerker. Yet for some reason, my body rebels against my brain and I can feel the tears welling up.




But the worst commercial and the one I personally think has ruined Sarah Mclachlan career is her animal cruelty commercial. Whenever her song "Angel" comes on all I can see and hear are abused dogs. If I see the commercial come on I turn the channel and never come back.  Simply, because I know I'll be seeing abused dogs for the entire show.  I officially HATE that song and that commercial.  But of course I've included it for your viewing pleasure. 

And just as an FYI.... Estrogen has also ruined the following for me...

• Annual Dog Show
• Almost every episode of Grey's Anatomy
• ET - which I still refuse to see it because I know I will cryThat insurance commercial where people do nice things for each other.  

But I'm hoping I'm not alone in this... I realize most of what I write on this blog is never read, but for the 3-4 die hard fans who read this blog on a semi-regular basis... Write in and share the commercials and movies or whatever that have ruined your life. 

LB