Not even if I were rich.....

The problem with the spread of credit/debit card use is that more and more retailers are now placing a "Tip" line below the "Total" line. I'm sorry, but just because you brought me an Ultimate Bacon Cheeseburger does not mean you get another 20%. These people do make minimum wage, which only makes me angry because it doesn't hurt as bad when I stiff them. Here's a tip: "Get off your mother's couch and get a real job." The Korean kids aren't ever going to make big money as profession street racers with their self pimped '95 eclipse. The brother at Blimpie's isn't going to have his rap career blow up just because he can almost rhyme "ham and swiss cheese" with "a dolla-fifteen" while giving a lady her change. The skater punk at Texadelphia is not the second coming of Tony Hawk, and one day his father will retire and not be able to bank roll him any more. And the little chick at Chick-fil-a just isn't cute enough to land a real doctor in the medical center. Maybe if she works the fryer all day and constantly smells of chicken nuggets she can end up with a fat radiology technician. I hate them all, I think I will start writing "$you.wish" on the tip line and see how they like that.

We must all learn the hard lessons of life....

Funerals are hard enough, but it would be worse if there were a lot of kids there. But you have to take them. To teach them that life does end. Sometimes with a disease, sometimes with a truck, sometimes with a laced cup of coffee graciously brought to you by your gold digging wife who can't wait to get her hands on your insurance. So next time I am at a funeral, I will be especially mindful of the children. I will give a eulogy written in the Dr. Suess style so that they may be entertained by the whimsical nature of mourning and grief.

Fred is dead.

dead is Fred.

We all are sad.

sad, sad, sad.

But it is not all bad.

What a great life Fred had.

Now he's packed in a box.

With his hat and his socks.

Covered with dirt and rocks.

But he left you some cash.

From his big secret stash.

We all thought he was cheap.

But so much money he did keep.

Now it is ours to share.

And spend with flare.

He used to skip out on the check.

Now he is paying off my debt.

So I shall be the first to say so long.

I, for one, am better off with you gone.

To see the little smiles on his kid's face as I read this fun little narrative of my feelings for their father. Oh the joy they must feel, with the rhyming and the fun. I am the bringer of merriment and mirth, even as others reap your souls.

I hold the power....

My sister called me today and said that she was working on her will. She wanted to know if she ever got in a horrible accident and her husband was also incapacitated, would I be willing to be responsible for making decisions about her medical care and treatment.

"hot damn, yeah I would!" I shouted into the phone.

Now i keep asking her to come visit me in hopes of a plane crash so that I can tell the doctor to remover her brain and eyes and put them in a jar. that way i can set her on a shelf and badger her all day long and she can do nothing but watch from inside her jar. Maybe I will let them rig up a little light to her brain stem so that she can blink it at me furiously as me and all my friends throw suction darts at her jar.

If she is nice I will get her a pet beta fish to swim in the water with her.

Tell me a bed time story....

I like fairy tales. Like the one about how I have to breath to live. And the one about how eating provides energy for the body. Or even how clouds are condensed water in the atmosphere. These silly tales with their complete lack of basis and evidence make me drift off to sleep thinking about such unfounded whimsical ideas and fantasies.

Give in now, fighting will only prolong the agony....

When I grow up and start my own business, I am going to build my building right across the street from my largest competitor. Most people would say that I am foolish for thinking this would be a good idea. But, my building will be special. I will hire a firm that will build me a building in which the top floors form a perfect parabolic dish. The shiny exterior will reflect all the rays of the sun onto a single point, my competitor's front door.

It will be so much fun watching the rival CEO burst into flames as he tries to enter his own building. My company will have ad campaigns like "You could buy from the other guy, but why would you want to roast and die under the force of the sun laser of death?". I know it isn't really a laser, but consumers are stupid and won't know the difference.

To keep moral up I will provide, sticks, marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers for free so that all my employees can go make smores on the flaming exterior of our neighbor. Who would not want to work for, or buy from a company like that?

Beatings will continue until morale improves....

This post has nothing to do with the title, i just like the sentiment. For all of you middle manager types, feel free to use it on your minions.

Thanks to IP tracking, I have been able to see exactly who has been reading this blog for a while now. It showed much of what i expected....not many people care. But the actual small subset of the population who read this with some regularity is actually a little larger than I at first thought. There seems to be a handfull of individuals who check this site at least a couple of times a week, if not a day yet never say anything. You have to help me out people. My wit only truely shines in playful banter. This writing funny from scratch is a major pain in the ass. Not leaving comments is a great disservice. To borrow a line from Full Metal Jacket it's like "pounding a feller in the ass without the decency of giving him a reach around". I wish i had a less homosexual analogy, but no, not now. If i come up with something better, I'll edit it.

So post a comment, and you better make it funny...so help me. Everyone knows i am a rage-aholic, I can't live without rage-ahol. It's been about a week since I hurt somebody....and i'm starting to get that itch.

Bad move...bad, bad move.

the problem with proving that you can do things, is that people then expect you to do things.

I walked into this internship and spent the first day shadowing a guy around a lab, learning where things were, learned a little bit about how corporate protocol differs from academic...etc. The second day he offers to show me how to run a western. I have a brain lapse and say "I know how to do that", I then make the mistake of proving that not only do i know how to do it, but I can do it 25% faster than the current method they are using.

I walk in this morning and the boss man says "we have six month back-log of westerns that need to be run. here is where all the samples are. Boy, this is going to be a productive summer."

why oh why do i have to be so damn good at everything i do?