Friday, October 17, 2008

Thursday, October 16, 2008

And This is Why They Call It Work

"What's wrong? You look upset."

"You don't KNOW why I'm upset?"


"Well, THAT'S why I'm upset!"

"Sooo... now that I know why your upset, there's no need to be upset."

"NO! That makes it so much worse!"


Repeat this conversation about twenty times an hour and you might have a general idea of how time at the office has gone this week. Things are looking better in the future, but I might not be posting for awhile.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

I Agree with about 90 Percent of This, but There are Some Good Ideas in It, Nontheless

A psychologist gives a lecture on the differences between liberals and conservatives and why they are both necessary for society to function. Anytime he uses the word "tribe" or "tribalism" I agree 100%. There are other nitpicks with other areas, but I want to share the information instead of picking through it, pointing out the stuff I don't like.

It is about 20 minutes long, so feel free to skip it if you are busy.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

A Really Good Sequel

The Post Where I Re-Post from Another Blog's Post

I waste a lot of time on the internet.

Every once in awhile, I find something that I think is awesome/funny/worth my time. I then show it to the Mrs. who reminds me that I have a lot on my "To Do" list and maybe I should get off the internet for awhile.

So here is the latest blog I found - KinderTrauma.

Specifically, what makes it awesome is this post.

And even more specifically this picture.

Was this a complete waste of my internet time? Discuss.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Making Money? Off of blogs?

One of the great things about having your email associated to your blog is that people you have never heard from send you emails.

Here is one I received recently:

I'm the webmaster of [website removed]
I wanted to know if by any chance you would be interested in doing an unbiased review of our site [website removed] on your blog

If you agree you can choose between receiving a product sample or receiving a payment.

If you choose the product sample instead of the payment the sample is yours to keep and you don’t need to send it back.

The product sample that you can get is %product and you can see it there: %product_url

Please let me know if you are interested.

Thank you
Z. R

If you want to receive more paid review proposals, just click the following link:

[link removed]


Ok, seriously, have you read my blog? My last two posts were about commercializing suicidal tendencies and doing everything I can to make dogs misbehave. And the one before that featured a drunk, pill-popping baby.

Do you think the intelligent, wealthy, and smokin' hott (with no 'g' and two 't's) people who read such high-brow material are just clamoring on my unbiased thoughts and feelings about your website? Probably not.

And while I'm at it, after reviewing my blog, what made you think I use it to do reviews of other websites? And how exactly does one review a website, let alone do an unbiased review? (I found it very clickable, so I give it four stars.)

And what the heck is a %product?

Monday, October 06, 2008

He Died with Dignity

We were at a party this weekend when a friend told me his dog, Brutus, had died.

Brutus was a great dog for telling stories about, and I often find myself telling Brutus stories at parties. So, in his memory, I will share a few with you.

He was an English Bulldog. In other words, he was huge, stupid, and happy all the time. He loved to play and to play rough. One of his best pals was a Doberman down the street. They would "play" by biting each others faces. The Doberman would knock Brutus to the ground, bite into Brutus' jowls and then drag him around the yard. After this, Brutus would stand up, his face covered in bloody teethmarks, and kind of jump up and down, as if to say, "Again! Again! Do it again!"

It was a little horrifying to watch, but after a few moments, Brutus' sheer glee at being ripped apart from another dog was contagious. If we tried to break up the "play fight," Brutus would sulk and look disappointed. "Don't you know you're being hurt?" we would ask Brutus while scratching behind his ears. "Don't you know you are in pain?"

He did not know this. He was big and stupid and happy all the time.

My favorite game to play with Brutus was a little thing I called, "Where is your dignity?" I would talk real excited and go, "Where's your dignity, Brutus? Where? Where is it?" And I would look around the room in an overly animated way. Because Brutus was not very bright, he would not look where I was looking, he would just stare directly at me and wag his tail.

Then I would scratch him behind the ears, "Where's your dignity? Where is it? Where is it?" Then he would strategically shift his body so I would no longer be scratching behind his ears, but rather be scratching his butt. He loved having his butt scratched. There was one part of his body, at the base of his tail, that acted like a little dog button. If you scratched this one spot, Brutus' legs would collapse and he would flop on the ground. Then he would clumsily roll over and expose his stomach for more scratching.

When I would scratch his butt and hit the magic dog button, Brutus would flop. I would then begin rubbing his belly with an overly-dramatic, "That's right! You have no dignity! No dignity at all!"

There was one time when I attended a Christmas party at these friends house. There were holiday sausages and sugar cookies galore. Brutus came up to me and nudged me with his butt, practically begging me to ask him about his dignity. Instead I offered him a little bit of Christmas sausage in exchange for some amusing dog tricks.

"Sit," I said. Brutus just looked at me and wagged his tail so hard that it looked like he was just wagging his entire back half. "No, sit," I said and pressed gently on his back side.

My fingers must have brushed the magic dog button because he collapsed and stuck his legs up in the air, begging for is tummy to be rubbed. Figuring that this was as close as I would ever get to having him sit, I went ahead and gave him a nice piece of Christmas sausage. And another. And another.

I guess Brutus' delicate digestion wasn't prepared for the rich goodness that is Christmas sausage that probably came from a marching band fundraiser, because shortly after downing a half pound of the stuff, he began to eek out really smelly dog farts.

"Brutus, what have you gotten into?" asked his owners. Brutus looked to me, hoping I would intervene for him, but, sadly, I betrayed the poor dog's trust and pretended to be very interested in the decorative tinsel. They decided to move Brutus out of the house and into the yard. Of course, they didn't realize that I had not only fed Brutus the Christmas sausage, but more than a few sugar cookies.

Let's just say that when the sugar hit his system, he decided to run in circles. Without stopping. For three hours straight. For the rest of the evening, if I ever needed a little holiday cheer, I would look out the window, see this white blur going in circles, and I knew Brutus was happy.

And I hope, where ever he is, he is happy now.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

Yet Another Reason I am not in Advertising

So this weekend, my wife bought a Prius.

I will have to admit, it is a pretty neat car. When you turn it on, the engine doesn't start - you just run on electricity until you reach a certain speed. Which means it is a very difficult car to lock yourself in a garage with, hoping to die of asphyxiation.

Morbid thoughts like this happen to me all the time. But usually the follow-up thought is pretty interesting. For example, my follow-up thought to this was, "Hey! That would make a great commercial!"

Just imagine...

A sad sack of a guy shuffles through his house, his limp hand drops a note. The camera zooms in on the note, revealing, in beautiful cursive penmanship, that his One True Love has found someone else.

The guy shuffles into his garage, closes his eyes, and starts his car.

Time passes.

Nothing happens.

Time passes some more.

Nothing happens.

Out of frustration, the man rests his head on the steering wheel. Immediately, the car radio springs to life, belting out, "It's a Sunshine Day" by the Brady Bunch.

The garage door rises, filling the air with light.

An announces coos, "Things are looking up. The new Prius."

Aaaand now you see why I didn't pursue a career in advertising.

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Pure Nightmare Fuel

These dancing monstrosities haunted my dreams when I was a child. Thank you television from the 70s, but thank you even more to YouTube for allowing me to confront my childhood fears.