What's Going On ....

So quick update, my dad was doing a bit better this weekend after going to the ER on Friday afternoon. He was in pretty good spirits today, which happens to be his 67th birthday. So I swung by with the kids this afternoon, with gift and birthday cupcake in hand. It was the cupcake purchase which led to the following interaction with my youngest progeny:

O: "Who's that cupcake for?"
Me: "That's for grandpa's birthday."
O (sounding like a young Veruca Salt): "I want a cupcake, too!!!"
Me: "Well it's grandpa's birthday, so why don't we let him eat it?"
O (thinking fast): "But that cupcake won't be good for grandpa, he's sick."

Ahh, my lil' doctor ... always looking out for her patients' best interests. I never knew that they started putting some sort of kidney rejection serum into cupcakes! Not only was she alert enough to warm me of the latent danger, she was also gracious enough to offer to dispose of the harmful baked good. And to think I was never made aware by his doctors. So go suck on that Stanford Hospital!

Worst. Conference. Call. Ever

Dearsweetlordjesusinheaven, please kill me. I'm working with my crazy boss to make some changes to a contract document, and it's just brutal. I'm in minute 90 of a what will be a three hour call. I imagine a bear mauling would be more comfortable. And about 10 minutes ago, he uttered the fantastic line "we've almost got the contract down to one page, that would be hot."

"Hot?" really, would it be hot? Funny, I never thought of contract documents as possessing personal qualities such as hot, cool or sweet. Also, what 48-year old man talks like that? It's like I'm on a call with Paris Hilton, except she would know more about contract law. Zing!

I'm Back

So real quick, I made it back from my vacation to Ireland (had a good time but am exhausted) and then I found out that my dad had a kidney transplant the day I was returning (he's doing okay). So while there's a lot to write about, I'm not much in the mood. Sorry about that, but I will write further shortly.

Good Morni..., uhhh, Afternoon

It's only 2:00 and already it's been a long day. I'm wrapping up (or at least trying to) a bunch of stuff before I go on vacation and I keep thinking of stuff I need to do. Oh well, shit will be waiting for me here when I get back I guess. I'm not certain that I will be able or inclined to post anything while I'm on vacation, so this might be the last bit you hear from me until late next week (or if the plane crashes, ever). I should have some good travel stories, though, to share if I make it back safely. Chat with you soon.

Helps A-Comin' for GW!

Awesome title and corresponding photo. Honestly, sometimes this stuff just writes itself.

Let The Good Times Roll

New research from Rutgers University suggests that the combination of exercise and caffeine increased destruction of precancerous cells that had been damaged by the sun's ultraviolet-B radiation. The study of mice indicated that there is a protective effect from both caffeine and voluntary exercise, and when both are combined the protection is even more than the sum of the two. Compared with the control animals, those drinking caffeine had a 95 percent increase in apoptosis in damaged cells. The exercisers showed a 120 percent increase, and the mice that were both drinking and running showed a nearly 400 percent increase.

Putting aside the obvious fantastic news that scientists have somehow discovered how to get mice to drink coffee, this is also a welcome discovery because I will probably have about a 1700 increase in apotosis (whatever that is) based on my caffeine consumption alone. Add in the occasional run, and I figure that purchasing sunscreen is probably a thing of the past, just like dinosaurs. Only, not as scary.

I'm Alive ...

... and still a corporate whore. I appreciate all the cards and letters and well wishings during my recent hiatus. After some back-and-forth last week, I finally turned down the job offer. I analyzed it to death (and thanks to everyone that I called to ask for their advice), but it boiled down to a few simple things - money and, uhhh, well something else I'm sure. Seriously, it was partly due to a proposed pay cut of approximately 15% (ouch), but there were was also some quality of life issues and pros/cons to balance out:

* Proposed job - 80 minute commute each way; daily bathing required; probably can't go barefoot at work; incessant surfing of sports and celebrity gossip websites probably frowned upon; actual physical interaction with other human beings probably a good thing.

* Current job - 30 second commute today; optional grooming habits; and freedom to eat, nap and run errands as I see fit (although I do spend most of my day working, believe it or not); periodic visits to Shit Louis and blog fodder from my bipolar bear boss.

So just like the current administration, I will grit my teeth for the next year or so and hope that the next year won't be as bad as the past eight months. I just hope that my corporate diaper is less full of crap than GW.

This Just In, David James is Still a Corporate Whore ....

I finally had my follow up discussion with potential employer this afternoon. I don't know what was worse, the actual conversation itself ("uhhh, can I pleeeeaassse have some more money") or my procrastinating and postponing it until the very end of the day? I'm sensing the latter. Despite my stammering, inability to articulate and utter greed, he wasn't entirely turned off. He said he would talk to his HR department and make a counter. God I am hoping all this will be quickly resolved, one way or another. Trying to work when I mentally have one foot out the door has been difficult and devoting mental energy and boring friends with my "what do you think" conversations is getting really old. Oh well, I should know more tomorrow (Tuesday). Wheee!

Sunday Reflection

Sorry this blog has gone to shit this past week or so, but I've been busy with work while also heavily debating as to whether to take a new job I was recently offered. As much as I would love to take it and get the hell out of this corporate M*A*S*H unit, it's just too much of a pay cut. I am scheduled to call them tomorrow to tell them what it would take for me to accept, but no matter how I slice the numbers, I'm still taking a financial hit if I leave my current company.

So I've come to the depressing conclusion that unless a miracle happens, I'm stuck with my current employer for another year (349 days to be exact until my options vest). There's actually a lot of things I like about my current job, so hopefully I can focus on those positive things as opposed to contemplating what a complete corporate whore I've become.

I hope everyone had a good weekend.

Goulet!

Sorry for the video post but: (a) while it's generally due to laziness, in this case I'm slammed with work and (b) it's pretty funny if you like Will Ferrell. Take a gander. New content tomorrow, I promise.

Perv of Wales

Fantastic photo of Prince Charles keeping abreast of military matters (ba dum bum!). It's refreshing to see that Charles still has it at 59 (!) and that Harry and William aren't the only royals getting a little bit of action. There's something about candid royal photos that you just have to love.

*Ow*

And this, boys and girls, is why I chose rugby over training for a decathlon. Well, that and I would suck at like six of the track and field events. But even if I did enter the decathlon, you can be sure as shit that I would pass on the pole vault and save myself for the next mortifying event.


http://view.break.com/329160 - Watch more free videos

The Blog Gets Rated

I just came across a handy little website which gives your blog an MPAA rating. I am proud to announce that mine is NC-17 rated. I'm not sure that I can really improve upon this (is there an NC-31?), but rest assured dear reader(s) that I will do my damnedest to continue to bring you the not-entirely-safe-for-work content you've grown accustomed to over the years.

"Officer, Let Me Explain What I Was Doing With That Duct Tape and Shovel ...."

I am not what you would call a huge fan of the state of Missouri for a number of reasons, many of which are work related and well documented in this blog (Editor’s note: I’ve deleted substantially all of my work-related rants for fear that my employer would discover them. Yes, my new boss makes me paranoid.)

But then I read a fun story like this and I realize "you know, there’s plenty to dislike about the state and its residents without having to rely upon my employer."

Timothy Pentaleri, of Belleville, Missouri, was charged with attempted kidnapping and two counts of attempted harassment/stalking, according to court documents. He allegedly laid out his plan to kidnap a former girlfriend in Minneapolis in a notebook, which included a flow chart, outlining his goal to stun, Mace and "club her hard," according to court documents.

Pentaleri -- an Army officer and, apparently, a total psycho -- showed up at the airport wearing a long-haired wig, a fake mustache and beard when he was stopped and questioned near an airport carousel, according to police. Authorities said he was found carrying a stun gun, three chemical aerosol Mace cans, a folding pocket knife, a set of SUV keys and an expandable baton. Was he arrested? Nope, he was simply issued a trespass notice and dropped off at an area hotel.

Now in most areas, this would be cause for arrest. Jesus, I get strip-searched at the goddamned airport if I carry on more than 3 ounces of liquids. But somehow this nutbag brings a stun gun, mace, pocket knife, and expandable baton to an aiport and gets off with a simple warning. What the fuck? But I have to keep reminding myself that this is Missouri and apparently this kind of thing is commonplace.

The story doesn't stop there though.

Police then reviewed footage from the camera monitoring system in the airport parking ramps and saw Pentaleri walking from the short-term ramp. They located his red GMC SUV parked there. Through the vehicle's window, police could see a duffel bag, a roll of duct tape, a shovel, rope and flex cuffs.

Pretty ordinary fare if you ask me. Honestly, who doesn't have flex cuffs and a shovel in their SUV?

Realizing that this guy might not be your typical Missouri gun nut, police then obtained a warrant to search the inside of the dude's SUV parked at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport and found a notebook with a checklist of items inside the vehicle.

Do you think it ever occurred to them that they might have made a mistake in letting him go? Probably not. But wait, the story gets *even* better.

For some reason, the dumbass returned to his vehicle at which point the police stopped him. The searched his duffel bag to find the following items (and I quote "six condoms, a pillow case cut into strips, a camera, a turkey baster, KY oil, a bag of plastic gloves, two bags of zip ties, a package of Bic lighters, two-sided tape, shoe polish, a pair of nylon socks and Clorox disinfectant wipes."

I swear to god, I am not making this shit up. I honestly could not have made up a funnier list of items if I had tried. Two-sided tape and disinfectant wipes? Brilliant. On some level, you really have to admire this guy, either for his attention to detail ("Let's see here .... pillow case pre-cut into strips? Check...") and unbridled optimism (six condoms!). Does this dude know how to party or what? Seriously, this guy is some sort of cross between MacGyver and the A-Team. He doesn't need incarceration -- he needs his own TV show. This guy would blow "Dog The Bounty Hunter" (oh don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about) out of the water. All he has to do is grow out his mullet and I swear I'm ordering the pay-per-view package right now.

Separated at Birth - Courtney Love

Here we have a recent photo of the 100% sane / sober / natural Courtney Love:


... and a Kabuki mask.


Seriously, what the hell is going on with Courtney Love's face? I know she's had a lot of work done, but I almost didn't even recognize her. She looks like the Joker, except more cartoon-like. Unfortunately, her disguise was spoiled by her trademarked trout mouth, lion's mane hairstyle, and usual coked-out expression.

And what the fuck is she wearing? By all appearances, she spent a good deal of time selecting her all-white snow queen ensemble, complete with matching leather snow gloves. But jesus christ, couldn't you take a couple of minutes to throw on a bra? Where you in that big a rush to be pose for the paparazzi? Evidently she can't button up your blouse while wearing those crazy snow mittens. Oh wait, on closer inspection it appears that there are no buttons -- it's meant to be worn just like that. Ack!

Good god woman, I'm seriously going to have to rethink my celebrity train wreck list here pretty soon.

Run Forest, Run!

So I went on what I thought would be a short little run in a regional park near where I live. It has trails and some hills and is very tranquil and woodsy. Certainly not the Oakland that everyone imagines.

Before I start off on my run, I double-check the trail map, grab my iPod with a thirty minute playlist of Goth/Country music, and take a final swig of water.

Now I should probably note that even though I've run this park a few times before, I tried a different trail each time so I can't say I'm extremely familiar with all the trails. I am familiar with the parking lot as well as the first mile or so of trail, but it's a bit of crapshoot after that. But I figure so long as I head out and maintain a steady circle, I should be just fine. I think to myself "seriously, how lost can I get in half an hour?"

So I head off on the main trail, make a right and after about 10 minutes I'm running along here:


... make a left, and I'm on this trail ....


... or should it have been a right? Oh well, who cares. I'll find the main path eventually. There are others hiking and riding on this trail, so I pay it no mind and keep running ....


Wow it's really pretty today although this path doesn't look very familiar. Oh well, it's a nice day, I don't have to think about my job and can just think about nothing. Hmmm, am I already getting near the end of my playlist? I guess it was shorter than I thought.


Okay seriously, where the fuck am I? I've been running for 40 minutes and none of this looks familiar at all. I don't have pictures of the actual trails I'm running on at this point, but they are very narrow and slightly overgrown with growth. It looks like the path below, but more jungly. (I realize "jungly" is not a word, but you get the idea.) There's no one else on the path, so my Donner Party survivor fallback plan is out the window.


At about minute 45 or so, I finally stumble upon what looks like the main trail. I keep on the trail until I run into the Chabot Observatory. Looking at the map there, I find that I had somehow veered *way* off my original path and am still a mile and a half way. Momentary panic attack aside, I continue on my way and finally make it back to the parking lot. And while I'm relieved that I won't have to eat grubs and berries until a rescue party locates me, it would have gotten me out of this crappy conference call I'm on right now. I guess I have to take the bad with the good.

For Members Only!

Twenty-five years later, and the Member's Only is still going strong. Right on Luke from General Hospital!

See, I was able to keep my New Year's resolution to incorporate more 70's expressions into my every day conversations. The real challenge will be tomorrow when I try to use the terms "solid" and "dig it" as I get handed my ass to me during a conference call with a contentious customer. Dy-no-mite!

Can Someone Spare an Emery Board?

This past Friday, I culminated an action packed day with a physical therapy session for my ailing shoulder (which is coming along fine, thanks for asking). I hopped in my car and with my mind processing a bunch of different things (where's my parking ticket, answer call on my phone, etc.), I headed towards the parking lot cashier. I quickly roll down the window without making eye contact (where the hell is that validation stamp they gave me?), I handed my ticket to the parking lot attendant and saw one of the scariest sights of my life:


This woman had the longest fingernails I had ever seen in my life! Her nails were easily as long as the talons pictured above. I was so busy trying to affix my parking validation stamp on my ticket, that I didn't even notice what was going on until I saw what I thought was a fucking lobster's was reaching out to take my ticket.

They were so long that she could not take my ticket as a normal person would do. Instead, she spread apart her fingers in a scissor-like motion so that I could insert the parking ticket between her two, oversized pincers. Words do not describe how freaked out I was.

It's over 30 hours later, and I'm still entirely creeped out. It's the only parking garage in the area, so I think I'm going to have to abruptly cancel my remaining PT appointments. Oh well, at least I have one functional shoulder.

Friday Musings

I'm on a mind numbing call right now and so I thought I would post the only photo which keeps me from gouging out my eyes right now.

It could be a combination of the subject matter ... it could be the monotone delivery of the speaker ... or it could be that I simply don't give a shit any more about this job. To be honest, I sort of like what I do and I actually like working from home (a lot), but I don't know how much longer I can do this job. It's actually considered a pretty good job, so part of me is very afraid that the rest of my work life will be similarly disappointing and lacking of any redeeming value.

I really don't want to sound like a whiny bitch (I know, too late) but this has been bothering me for a while. I know that things could be far worse. I realize that I could be out of a job tomorrow, scavenging half eaten chicken wings from a dumpster behind KFC. But almost all the other people I know that have similar jobs really don't like them. Deep down, I'm worried that that it will be the same thing with any other company and that I'm going to be stuck doing this crap for the rest of my life.

Oh well, my call is over now so maybe I'll contemplate the meaning of life for a while. Or, alternatively, spend the balance of the afternoon searching the Internet for mindless pablum to make the day go by quicker.

Don't Feed the Monkeys

No apologies ... no funny YouTube clips ... Instead, on with the quick 5-minute synopsis of what's up with me.

* I started physical therapy on my shoulder this past week. Long story short, it's messed up from years of weight lifting and rugby (AC joint sprain, scar tissue, and likely rotator cuff/labrum damage). Fortunately, it will be just fine with some PT, which is good since I need to defend my rugby team MVP award. However, I'm starting to think that my physical therapist might be a bit of a sadist. She seemed nice enough at first, but halfway through the session, she's got me in some sort of crazy arm bar and she's digging her thumb into my shoulder like she's trying to push a cork back into a wine bottle. Jesus, you would have thought I asked for a happy ending or something. Anyway, I wouldn't disclose anything other than name, rank and serial number, so she finally gave after what seemed like 1/2 hour of torture. I'm sure this week she'll try something new, like bamboo under the fingernails which she'll disguise as some sort of acupuncture.

* I went to two baseball games this past week (thanks JFS and CRM for tickets) and saw five future Hall-of-Famers play - Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Ken Griffey Jr., Alex Rodriguez, and Derek Jeter. I also saw a couple of borderline candidates (Jorge Posada, Johnny Damon, Joe Torre) and a bunch of all-time stars (e.g., Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Juan Marichal). Which is great because there's no way on God's green earth that I'm shelling out $600 to sit in the bleachers during the baseball All Star game. That is highway-fucking robbery. It's a goddamned exhibit game, folks. No sane person should have to drop a grand for some crappy All Star game that they can watch on TV. Jesus christ are the tickets also made of gold and entitle us entry to Willie Wonka's chocolate factory? Where's my golden goose?

* Lastly, I'd like to wish Mr. Chips a happy 12th birthday. I'm not really certain what his exact year or date of birth is, so I picked June 26th out of my ass. But the little fella could use some cheer after the year he's had -- IRS audit for failing to report income and file 6 years of back taxes ... losing his tenure due to plagiarism and other unspoken scandals at the university ... battling numerous chemical dependencies and suffering numerous relapses ... not to mention being the subject of a bitter custody dispute. Fortunately, the parties were able to put it all behind them (he said "behind") and actually brought Mr. Chips to New York this past year. Here are a couple of G-rated pictures of Mr. Chips from our April trip:

Here's a photo of Mr. Chips, who was exhausted after 7 blocks of driving. Come to think of it, the three Mai Thais he had at lunch probably didn't help matters either.




Here's another photo of Mr. Chips, who's now awake and evidently ready for a little action.



Happy birthday, buddy! Daddy and ..., uhhh, daddy are very proud of you! Next year -- Amsterdam!