Things in my life have been changing so fast and unexpectedly these days…
No, not my marriage. That’s cool.
No, not my employment. That still sucks.
And, oddly enough, though I have been to three job interviews this week, I’m almost afraid – in some psychotic, Freddy Kreugeresque kind of way – of getting a job.
Perhaps I should explain…
You see, in the middle of this vast wasteland of unemployment (or, as I just typoed “wast vastland”)(“Nuklear Wessels, Keptin!”) some of the most intriguing and, dare I say, once in a lifetime opportunities have been exploding around me.
Like the ebook thing. Someone has offered to publish one of my books as an ebook, and hasn’t balked at my insistence upon an audio book version. The only thing is it’ll take a lot of work and a lot of time and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it if I get a traditional, full-time job.
There’s also been the website thing. I’ve come up with an idea for what I think could be a money-making website. Jenn and Vic are actually helping me develop the idea. (No, I won’t tell you. Wait until Christmas.) The only thing is it’ll take a lot of work and a lot of time and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it if… you’ve heard this before, haven’t you?
It’s crazy how right now, when I’m starving for a job, this buffet of new opportunities is being rolled in front of me. And, let’s face it, if I had a job, I could pay my bills. Vicky and I could have our baby. Life would be good. On the flip side, both of these opportunities are filled with such potential that a regular job might not even be necessary and…
So, it’s down to safety versus … the alternative.
It sucks.
Meanwhile, I’ll just keep interviewing and wait to really deal with this problem when I get an offer.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Ken's on top...
Okay, get your mind out of that nasty place. It's another week of WW and Ken is the biggest loser...
Vicky ~ +2.4 lbs, for a total of 2.4 lbs
Ken ~ -0.8 lbs, for a total of 7.6 lbs
I had a bad week and was still bloated...this week I hope to do much better. Ken is doing great though!
Vicky ~ +2.4 lbs, for a total of 2.4 lbs
Ken ~ -0.8 lbs, for a total of 7.6 lbs
I had a bad week and was still bloated...this week I hope to do much better. Ken is doing great though!
Saturday, February 24, 2007
And this is what happened…
Alone time. Down time. That’s what I needed. I wanted to be benched – out of the game – if just for a few hours.
So, I asked Vicky to have dinner with a friend, Julie as it turned out, and I picked up a pack of smokes and pulled out my bottle of 15-year-old scotch. (I love my brother in law.)
I tried sitting down with a scotch and a smoke but that’s fitting me less and less these days, especially doing it alone. As much as I’ve always preferred time alone, I do it better with a good friend nearby. But Tim Murphy is way up in Oregon and I miss him like a mother-fucker. And Clostio would have liked the scotch too much, that’s what alcoholics do. And Sean neither smokes nor drinks. Rich has disappeared into the wilds of Florida and Roberson disappeared into the wilds of… god only knows.
My best friend these days is my wife, as much as you want to call that a cliché (and you should), but she couldn’t be in on this. You might say that I’m the loser in this but, face facts, she is. She thought she was marrying a guy with a good job with whom she could have babies – boy, did I ever pull one on her.
After a few hours, I realized what the problem was – the three-hundred pound gorilla around which I’d been diverting my eyes – and, no, as a matter of fact, I didn’t like it. There’s no easy way to put it.
It’s getting nearly time for me to quit. I know that. Don’t like it much.
I’ve spent my whole life in failure. But I could get around every broken promise to myself, every book that didn’t sell, every play that didn’t get produced, the acting career that never became a career, the singing career left behind long ago, as long as I could tell myself that, at the very least and it was, that I made a living writing professionally.
But, let’s face it, I don’t do that any more.
Now, I have only one unemployment check left. After that, I probably have two weeks of grace but I need to decide what comes next.
I realized that was what I was facing.
And then, Vicky came home. She got back early because Julie wasn’t feeling well. I couldn’t stay outside in the freezing cold, sub-arctic temperatures that are a Southern California winter (I’m a wimp), with a smoke and a drink for clarity, when the clear mandate of my life was just inside. That’s probably why I had to send her away; when she’s near, I can’t think straight.
She went upstairs to check her email and I followed her up and collapsed, only half-drunkenly, on the bed.
And, son of a bitch, I fell asleep! Wouldn’t you know it?
When I awoke at 4:30am, I realized I still had my jacket on – and that I was awake for the day.
No decisions. No clarity. No certainty as to what I will do next.
So, I asked Vicky to have dinner with a friend, Julie as it turned out, and I picked up a pack of smokes and pulled out my bottle of 15-year-old scotch. (I love my brother in law.)
I tried sitting down with a scotch and a smoke but that’s fitting me less and less these days, especially doing it alone. As much as I’ve always preferred time alone, I do it better with a good friend nearby. But Tim Murphy is way up in Oregon and I miss him like a mother-fucker. And Clostio would have liked the scotch too much, that’s what alcoholics do. And Sean neither smokes nor drinks. Rich has disappeared into the wilds of Florida and Roberson disappeared into the wilds of… god only knows.
My best friend these days is my wife, as much as you want to call that a cliché (and you should), but she couldn’t be in on this. You might say that I’m the loser in this but, face facts, she is. She thought she was marrying a guy with a good job with whom she could have babies – boy, did I ever pull one on her.
After a few hours, I realized what the problem was – the three-hundred pound gorilla around which I’d been diverting my eyes – and, no, as a matter of fact, I didn’t like it. There’s no easy way to put it.
It’s getting nearly time for me to quit. I know that. Don’t like it much.
I’ve spent my whole life in failure. But I could get around every broken promise to myself, every book that didn’t sell, every play that didn’t get produced, the acting career that never became a career, the singing career left behind long ago, as long as I could tell myself that, at the very least and it was, that I made a living writing professionally.
But, let’s face it, I don’t do that any more.
Now, I have only one unemployment check left. After that, I probably have two weeks of grace but I need to decide what comes next.
I realized that was what I was facing.
And then, Vicky came home. She got back early because Julie wasn’t feeling well. I couldn’t stay outside in the freezing cold, sub-arctic temperatures that are a Southern California winter (I’m a wimp), with a smoke and a drink for clarity, when the clear mandate of my life was just inside. That’s probably why I had to send her away; when she’s near, I can’t think straight.
She went upstairs to check her email and I followed her up and collapsed, only half-drunkenly, on the bed.
And, son of a bitch, I fell asleep! Wouldn’t you know it?
When I awoke at 4:30am, I realized I still had my jacket on – and that I was awake for the day.
No decisions. No clarity. No certainty as to what I will do next.
Friday, February 23, 2007
I don’t know if you’d call it a panic attack..
I’ve had panic attacks and this doesn’t have me wanting to run, screaming… not quite…
Terrified? Certainly. Just not panicked.
See, I’ve been trying to keep my cool these past six months but now I have only one unemployment check left and, after applying for well over two hundred jobs (figured at a job or two a day – it’s probably been much, much more), no interest from anyone in hiring me.
I’m getting to the place where I am going to be really, really screwed and I’m running out of ideas on how to avoid it. I’ve tried applying for jobs I knew I could do. I’ve tried applying for jobs I couldn’t do. I’ve tried playing it safe. I’ve tried applying for crazy jobs. I’ve tried perm, temp, contract, full-time, part-time, freelance, and telecommuting. I’ve applied for anything I could apply for – just to see if someone would call me about it.
And the worst thing is that, not only am I going down, I’m taking Vicky with me.
No. Scratch that. The worst thing is what I did today. I mean, I know I’m taking Vicky with me, and Vicky knows that, too. There’s nothing new there. But today I actually asked Vicky if she could have dinner somewhere else tonight all because I’ve lost my guts and I can’t face her. Here I am, ruining her life, and I’m asking her to make it easier for me.
I don’t know which is worse, having to live with this situation or having to live with myself.
For those of you wondering, we’re doing okay financially, so far. This is more a testament to Vicky’s incredible money management – certainly not to me in any way. She’s been able to keep us afloat in spite of me. But the point, of course, is that we shouldn’t be in this position at all. Is it any wonder I feel like such a fucking failure?
Okay, I’m going to shut up.
For so many years, I was the guy who had his shit together – by which I mean only that I could get the job I wanted, hold it, and keep it. But now, nothing is going right. Seriously? I’m not really liking it much.
Terrified? Certainly. Just not panicked.
See, I’ve been trying to keep my cool these past six months but now I have only one unemployment check left and, after applying for well over two hundred jobs (figured at a job or two a day – it’s probably been much, much more), no interest from anyone in hiring me.
I’m getting to the place where I am going to be really, really screwed and I’m running out of ideas on how to avoid it. I’ve tried applying for jobs I knew I could do. I’ve tried applying for jobs I couldn’t do. I’ve tried playing it safe. I’ve tried applying for crazy jobs. I’ve tried perm, temp, contract, full-time, part-time, freelance, and telecommuting. I’ve applied for anything I could apply for – just to see if someone would call me about it.
And the worst thing is that, not only am I going down, I’m taking Vicky with me.
No. Scratch that. The worst thing is what I did today. I mean, I know I’m taking Vicky with me, and Vicky knows that, too. There’s nothing new there. But today I actually asked Vicky if she could have dinner somewhere else tonight all because I’ve lost my guts and I can’t face her. Here I am, ruining her life, and I’m asking her to make it easier for me.
I don’t know which is worse, having to live with this situation or having to live with myself.
For those of you wondering, we’re doing okay financially, so far. This is more a testament to Vicky’s incredible money management – certainly not to me in any way. She’s been able to keep us afloat in spite of me. But the point, of course, is that we shouldn’t be in this position at all. Is it any wonder I feel like such a fucking failure?
Okay, I’m going to shut up.
For so many years, I was the guy who had his shit together – by which I mean only that I could get the job I wanted, hold it, and keep it. But now, nothing is going right. Seriously? I’m not really liking it much.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Challenge – Week 4…
“It’s Thursday, you know,” I told Vicky on the phone. I’ve been waiting for her to post last Saturday’s results but she hasn’t, as you can probably tell. I have my suspicions why – cause I kicked her butt.
But, hey, she’s the one who started this! She wanted competition!
So, without further blather…
Vicky ~ +0.4 lbs, for a total of 4.8 lbs
Ken ~ 1.8 lbs, for a total of 6.8 lbs
She had an off week but I’m sure she’ll be challenging me again on Saturday.
But, hey, she’s the one who started this! She wanted competition!
So, without further blather…
Vicky ~ +0.4 lbs, for a total of 4.8 lbs
Ken ~ 1.8 lbs, for a total of 6.8 lbs
She had an off week but I’m sure she’ll be challenging me again on Saturday.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
An IMC Networks post-mortem you may have seen coming…
A brief overview. I was canned in August after being employed for eight months, the reason being “production”. No modifier was given. I was of the opinion at the time that they wanted to replace me.
Okay.
And today I learned that, whoever it was that replaced me, only lasted six months. Yep, they’re looking for another writer.
Let’s see… the writer before me left after three months of working for my ex-boss. I made it through eight months of hell. Now, my replacement barely endured six months.
I’m beginning to think that it wasn’t entirely my fault.
Vicky and I discussed the idea of applying for the job but couldn’t stop laughing.
Okay.
And today I learned that, whoever it was that replaced me, only lasted six months. Yep, they’re looking for another writer.
Let’s see… the writer before me left after three months of working for my ex-boss. I made it through eight months of hell. Now, my replacement barely endured six months.
I’m beginning to think that it wasn’t entirely my fault.
Vicky and I discussed the idea of applying for the job but couldn’t stop laughing.
A word or two on fatitudious… ness…
Vicky has been delaying posting the results from week four, er, five – what week are we on now? – but that doesn’t mean I have to shut the hell up.
I don’t care how many of you have been telling me to!
I was pretty good last week. I worked out almost every day. I ate right. I was, you know… good.
Now, it’s this week. Last night, Vicky and I were both pretty bad. We went to Fatburger for Fat Tuesday, which usually means twofer burgers… except at this place. At our local Fatburger, it meant that a clueless teenager looked at me like I was an idiot (a feeling I’m very used to) and said, “We don’t do that here.”
Yeah, whatever.
This place was next door to an Olive Garden.
Now, we hate Olive Garden. It’s the McDonalds of Italian food. But they have this bottomless soup and salad thing that we like. So, we went over there and – thinking we’d eat healthy food, none of this hamburger nonsense – gorged on soup and salad until we were ready to die.
Not good.
Okay, so we’re human just like… some of you.
On the up side, we’ve discovered a brand of ice cream called Skinny Cow (flattering, huh?) that makes some fantastic ice cream sammaches that we can actually eat. And ONE POINT WW fudgecicles! (I bow before the alter of Splenda.)
It’s a slow process but we’re learning.
I don’t care how many of you have been telling me to!
I was pretty good last week. I worked out almost every day. I ate right. I was, you know… good.
Now, it’s this week. Last night, Vicky and I were both pretty bad. We went to Fatburger for Fat Tuesday, which usually means twofer burgers… except at this place. At our local Fatburger, it meant that a clueless teenager looked at me like I was an idiot (a feeling I’m very used to) and said, “We don’t do that here.”
Yeah, whatever.
This place was next door to an Olive Garden.
Now, we hate Olive Garden. It’s the McDonalds of Italian food. But they have this bottomless soup and salad thing that we like. So, we went over there and – thinking we’d eat healthy food, none of this hamburger nonsense – gorged on soup and salad until we were ready to die.
Not good.
Okay, so we’re human just like… some of you.
On the up side, we’ve discovered a brand of ice cream called Skinny Cow (flattering, huh?) that makes some fantastic ice cream sammaches that we can actually eat. And ONE POINT WW fudgecicles! (I bow before the alter of Splenda.)
It’s a slow process but we’re learning.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Cursed…
Okay, so the title is facetious but, after all this time, I’m beginning to wonder.
I nearly had a job at an insurance company but that was ruined when, for my final interview, they sent in someone to replace the person I was supposed to meet. This person had been with the company two weeks, had no idea what was going on, and had only been told at the last minute that she’d need to interview me. Up until that point, I was a shoo-in. After, nothing.
Last week, I went to interview for a technical writing position but they wanted someone with an engineering or mechanical background… not a writing background.
Then, today, I went to the interview that I was sure would work out. I was so qualified, I was sure they’d hire me on the spot. I had worked with the same products before. I had done the same job before. I had used the same software before. In no way was I incompatible!
I should have known that wouldn’t matter…
I met with this guy who basically hated the world and was unhappy about everything. And there was no way to keep him from going negative.
I’d tell him about how I worked on the same kinds of products and he’d say, “You’ve never seen products like ours.” I’d tell him that I’d written the same kinds of documents and he’d say, “Our documents are different from everybody else’s.” I’d confirm that I had worked with, and was competent with, Photoshop and he’d say, “Yes, but we have to do all of the graphic arts,” in the most negative, cynical way possible.
This is the guy everyone avoids at a party – if he’s invited at all!
I told him about how I had developed all of the documentation standards at the last two places I worked, one of my biggest selling points, and he said, “We already have our standards.” I told him how I’ve written documentation for both homes and business and he said, “We don’t deal with end users.” In other words, he just ignored any experience I did have – showing how I took the initiative or showing my flexibility – and, instead, found a way to shoot me down.
It was an hour of getting pummeled.
No fun.
I have less that a month of unemployment insurance left… I’m officially scared.
I nearly had a job at an insurance company but that was ruined when, for my final interview, they sent in someone to replace the person I was supposed to meet. This person had been with the company two weeks, had no idea what was going on, and had only been told at the last minute that she’d need to interview me. Up until that point, I was a shoo-in. After, nothing.
Last week, I went to interview for a technical writing position but they wanted someone with an engineering or mechanical background… not a writing background.
Then, today, I went to the interview that I was sure would work out. I was so qualified, I was sure they’d hire me on the spot. I had worked with the same products before. I had done the same job before. I had used the same software before. In no way was I incompatible!
I should have known that wouldn’t matter…
I met with this guy who basically hated the world and was unhappy about everything. And there was no way to keep him from going negative.
I’d tell him about how I worked on the same kinds of products and he’d say, “You’ve never seen products like ours.” I’d tell him that I’d written the same kinds of documents and he’d say, “Our documents are different from everybody else’s.” I’d confirm that I had worked with, and was competent with, Photoshop and he’d say, “Yes, but we have to do all of the graphic arts,” in the most negative, cynical way possible.
This is the guy everyone avoids at a party – if he’s invited at all!
I told him about how I had developed all of the documentation standards at the last two places I worked, one of my biggest selling points, and he said, “We already have our standards.” I told him how I’ve written documentation for both homes and business and he said, “We don’t deal with end users.” In other words, he just ignored any experience I did have – showing how I took the initiative or showing my flexibility – and, instead, found a way to shoot me down.
It was an hour of getting pummeled.
No fun.
I have less that a month of unemployment insurance left… I’m officially scared.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Shrub's America is always providing opportunities to unemployed writers like me...
You can imagine how I felt when I found out that, should I not find a job before my unemployment insurance runs out, I can enlist and go die in Iraq.
Whew! I'm so glad they raised the minimum age to 42!
Problem solved!
Whew! I'm so glad they raised the minimum age to 42!
Problem solved!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Social Conservatives...
When did we stop calling them what they are? Which is "bigoted hate-mongers"?
My Valentine…
Yes, it’s that day – so you know I’m going to get all mushy. You can’t say I didn’t warn you in advance.
This is her. This is my valentine. My beautiful bride. My wife. My Vicky.
Pretty, isn’t she?
We had company over the other night. Gail, the woman who married us, and I were sitting on the sofa and I told her I don’t know how I got so lucky. Especially with everything that has been going on, how long I’ve been out of work. Vicky has been incredible through all of this, certain that things would turn around for us, never once freaking out. Delusional? Sure, but it’s nice.
You hear guys talk about how the woman in their life has been their “support”, their “rock”. Well, Vicky is undeniably mine. Not only has she kept us afloat financially, as I scramble and fail to secure every job I can find, but she’s kept our relationship grounded, as well.
She’s a miracle.
And I still don’t know how I got so lucky.
I love her more every day and I know what a cliché that is but it’s true.
So, I’ve been thinking for a few weeks now what I could possibly get her for Valentine’s Day and have come up empty every time because it’s not easy to buy presents when you are flat broke. It was beginning to look like I’d have nothing for her – and, ironically, she would have been fine with that – when…
I was doing some chores last Friday… and I was thinking about how frustrating everything has been. I mean, we can’t refinance the house until I get a job. We want to have a child but don’t dare until I’m employed. We have all these hopes and dreams but you need money for that to happen. It seems like our tomorrow is taking its own sweet time, you know? It seems as if tomorrow won’t be here tomorrow… it won’t be here until next Thursday!
Most people don’t know this but when I started writing, it was poetry I wrote. And I wrote a lot of it. For many years. And when I was in the couple of bands I was in, I wrote songs. But something happened as I grew older and my poetic muse just faded away.
However, as the thought about tomorrow not coming until next Thursday sounded in my mind… I put down the cleanser and the sponge and knew I had my Valentine’s Day gift for Vicky.
It’s not much, honey, but it’s for you. It may not be my best poem/song ever but it’s from the heart.
I haven’t written poetry for anyone in years but you inspired this song.
No one said tomorrow wouldn’t come until next Thursday
Or said that when it came it would be my day or be your day
Putting off the million little plans
The things we never said while holding hands
And brushing far away the second chance
Leaving it for you and I to find.
And no one ever said there’d be a rainbow we could follow
But we set off to find where it could be just like tomorrow
Leaving us an endless road to drive
Leaving us nowhere we could arrive
Leaving us together you and I
Together, it’s for you and I to find.
So off around the bend we end up driving ‘til tomorrow
And who knows where or when without a map that we can borrow
Missing out on nothing else around
Grounded by the simplicated sound
I hear your voice, I know I have been found
Together
And who knows
Just what we’ll find.
Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart. I love you.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Challenge - Week 3
Here's how the pounds stacked up...or rather came off...
Vicky ~ 1.2 lbs, for a total of 5.2 lbs
Ken ~ 0.8 lbs, for a total of 5.0 lbs
Told you I'd let Ken win for a week. Actually he is doing great and I'm proud of him!
Vicky ~ 1.2 lbs, for a total of 5.2 lbs
Ken ~ 0.8 lbs, for a total of 5.0 lbs
Told you I'd let Ken win for a week. Actually he is doing great and I'm proud of him!
Junk psychology for the painfully ignorant…
I get a lot of crapmail in general and I came across one of the crappiest examples just a few minutes ago. It was one of those “fun” questionnaires that gets sent around, using common household items to describe just who you are deep within.
I’m sure you’ve seen these. What kind of footstool are you? What kind of silverware are you? What kind of belly button lint are you? The survey has you choose your favorite and then tells you pleasantly vague things about yourself based on the answer. The things it says are always pleasantly vague. They have to be pleasant, since oftentimes these come from people who want you to consider them friends (if only of the “emails me crap I wouldn’t otherwise read” variety), and they have to be vague, because it’s patently obvious to anyone with a brain that EMAILS DO NOT HAVE BRAINS!
Why don’t we take a look at the one I just got (which I received from several people, the way a deadly disease spreads) and dissect it critically.
This one purports to tell you about yourself based on what type of dessert you may presently be in the mood for. This must be a thing of miracles because, after all, your mood for dessert could be based on so very many things: what you just ate, if you just brushed your teeth, if you have teeth…
It starts by having you make a choice. Now, remember, you are only able to make one choice! Disregard the fact that this is clearly untrue, that you can clear make more than one choice – THE EMAIL IS ALL POWERFUL! THE EMAIL IS SMARTER THAN YOU!
Here are your choices:
1. Angel Food Cake
2. Brownies
3. Lemon Meringue
4. Vanilla Cake with Chocolate Icing
5. Strawberry Short Cake
6. Chocolate Icing on Chocolate Cake
7. Ice Cream
8. Carrot Cake
Then, the email explains that “research” has been done to determine who you are based upon your one dessert choice. Imagine the astronomical amount of research that must have been done to make this distinction! Why… lots of dessert must have been eaten by… lots of people… right????
Then, it gives you the answers.
If you picked Angel Food Cake, you are sweet. If you picked Brownies, you are adventurous. If you picked Lemon Meringue (and no, they make no distinction about pie or no pie), you are sexy. If you picked Vanilla Cake with Chocolate Icing, you are fun-loving. If you picked strawberry short cake, you are romantic. If you picked Chocolate Icing on Chocolate Cake (but notice you did not pick the cake, just the icing on the cake… somehow you are eating the icing but avoiding the cake… which must be far more popular that I thought), you are also sexy… wait, I thought that was for Lemon Meringue eaters… If you picked Ice Cream, you like sports. (You don't have to play them. You don't have to watch them. You just have to like them... any of them... isn't that convenient?) And if you picked Carrot Cake, you are fun-loving, which you would also be if you liked Vanilla Cake with Chocolate Icing. Fun loving people are everywhere.
As you can see, it’s not very clear. All the answers are intentionally vague - who doesn't like to think of themselves as fun-loving? Or sexy? It's based on the idea that people like to has smoke blown so far up their asses that it clouds their vision. I am obviously not amongst them.
Now, I’ve been told that the reason to do these things is because they are “fun”.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
Fun?
Listen: sex is fun. Roller coasters are fun. More sex is fun.
Having your personality, your very essence reduced down to a FOOD CHOICE is not fun! Being provided with some bullshit story about some fucking research done so I can be minimized – as if the complexities of my personality don’t mean shit – if I like ice cream, I like sports and no arguing about it – is not fun!
The whole point of these emails, besides being monumentally insulting to anyone with a brain cells, is to provide a cheap compliment, a faux kind of understanding. It’s a way of saying, “This is about as far as I want to get to know you. Let’s keep it superficial.”
How anyone could possibly NOT be insulted by it is beyond me! I know they’ll keep getting sent, simply because people will keep on being superficial and stupid, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. It just means that if you send me one, my opinion of you is going to drop just a little bit further.
… Oh, and I can't help but feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch who likes pineapple upside-down cake for dessert!
I’m sure you’ve seen these. What kind of footstool are you? What kind of silverware are you? What kind of belly button lint are you? The survey has you choose your favorite and then tells you pleasantly vague things about yourself based on the answer. The things it says are always pleasantly vague. They have to be pleasant, since oftentimes these come from people who want you to consider them friends (if only of the “emails me crap I wouldn’t otherwise read” variety), and they have to be vague, because it’s patently obvious to anyone with a brain that EMAILS DO NOT HAVE BRAINS!
Why don’t we take a look at the one I just got (which I received from several people, the way a deadly disease spreads) and dissect it critically.
This one purports to tell you about yourself based on what type of dessert you may presently be in the mood for. This must be a thing of miracles because, after all, your mood for dessert could be based on so very many things: what you just ate, if you just brushed your teeth, if you have teeth…
It starts by having you make a choice. Now, remember, you are only able to make one choice! Disregard the fact that this is clearly untrue, that you can clear make more than one choice – THE EMAIL IS ALL POWERFUL! THE EMAIL IS SMARTER THAN YOU!
Here are your choices:
1. Angel Food Cake
2. Brownies
3. Lemon Meringue
4. Vanilla Cake with Chocolate Icing
5. Strawberry Short Cake
6. Chocolate Icing on Chocolate Cake
7. Ice Cream
8. Carrot Cake
Then, the email explains that “research” has been done to determine who you are based upon your one dessert choice. Imagine the astronomical amount of research that must have been done to make this distinction! Why… lots of dessert must have been eaten by… lots of people… right????
Then, it gives you the answers.
If you picked Angel Food Cake, you are sweet. If you picked Brownies, you are adventurous. If you picked Lemon Meringue (and no, they make no distinction about pie or no pie), you are sexy. If you picked Vanilla Cake with Chocolate Icing, you are fun-loving. If you picked strawberry short cake, you are romantic. If you picked Chocolate Icing on Chocolate Cake (but notice you did not pick the cake, just the icing on the cake… somehow you are eating the icing but avoiding the cake… which must be far more popular that I thought), you are also sexy… wait, I thought that was for Lemon Meringue eaters… If you picked Ice Cream, you like sports. (You don't have to play them. You don't have to watch them. You just have to like them... any of them... isn't that convenient?) And if you picked Carrot Cake, you are fun-loving, which you would also be if you liked Vanilla Cake with Chocolate Icing. Fun loving people are everywhere.
As you can see, it’s not very clear. All the answers are intentionally vague - who doesn't like to think of themselves as fun-loving? Or sexy? It's based on the idea that people like to has smoke blown so far up their asses that it clouds their vision. I am obviously not amongst them.
Now, I’ve been told that the reason to do these things is because they are “fun”.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
Fun?
Listen: sex is fun. Roller coasters are fun. More sex is fun.
Having your personality, your very essence reduced down to a FOOD CHOICE is not fun! Being provided with some bullshit story about some fucking research done so I can be minimized – as if the complexities of my personality don’t mean shit – if I like ice cream, I like sports and no arguing about it – is not fun!
The whole point of these emails, besides being monumentally insulting to anyone with a brain cells, is to provide a cheap compliment, a faux kind of understanding. It’s a way of saying, “This is about as far as I want to get to know you. Let’s keep it superficial.”
How anyone could possibly NOT be insulted by it is beyond me! I know they’ll keep getting sent, simply because people will keep on being superficial and stupid, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. It just means that if you send me one, my opinion of you is going to drop just a little bit further.
… Oh, and I can't help but feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch who likes pineapple upside-down cake for dessert!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Thus the gloating starts...
You know, it was one thing for the Republicans to gratuitously insult the Democratic party and the folks they represented on a daily basis but that doesn't mean that progressives (in this case, a Democrat) should do the same. We shouldn't mispronounce their party's name; not only does it appear petty but it discounts the damage they do to their very party itself. The Republicans of today are undermining any good their party may have once done and should be reminded of that by using their real name...
You know, it was one thing for the Republicans to gratuitously insult the Democratic party and the folks they represented on a daily basis but that doesn't mean that progressives (in this case, a Democrat) should do the same. We shouldn't mispronounce their party's name; not only does it appear petty but it discounts the damage they do to their very party itself. The Republicans of today are undermining any good their party may have once done and should be reminded of that by using their real name...
Saturday, February 10, 2007
With thanks to Jack Cafferty...
JACK CAFFERTY, CNN ANCHOR: Is Anna Nicole Smith still dead, Wolf?
WOLF BLITZER: Yes, we're going to -- updating our viewers coming up shortly on...
CAFFERTY: I can't wait for that.
BLITZER: ... the mysterious circumstances surrounding that, Jack. Thank you.
(Meanwhile, more senseless deaths in Iraq are going ignored here at home.)
WOLF BLITZER: Yes, we're going to -- updating our viewers coming up shortly on...
CAFFERTY: I can't wait for that.
BLITZER: ... the mysterious circumstances surrounding that, Jack. Thank you.
(Meanwhile, more senseless deaths in Iraq are going ignored here at home.)
Friday, February 09, 2007
I'll take bad jokes about fucking for $500, Alex...
"Four."
...
...
...
...
... "How many nications does it take to make a baby?"
...
...
...
...
... "How many nications does it take to make a baby?"
Thursday, February 08, 2007
New Voyages – Old Pain…
What was so painful about the original Star Trek series? Bad acting? Bad production values? Bad stunt doubles? Bad acting? Sure, we all had our own list.
But, fortunately, that was aborted in 1969 when someone wise and wonderful at the network watched it… and threw up a little in his mouth. Let’s face it, the original series was really bad at times and an early death did it good. After all, the movies were only half bad and the Next Generation was (I can’t say anything bad or Vicky will KILL ME)…
I thought all of my original series pain had been suffered.
Um.
… No.
Because, thanks to the fans… actually, thanks to fans with lots of money who can afford to produce new shows, new shows are, well, being produced.
Yep. It’s Star Trek: The New Voyages.
Now, I don’t know how many of you have watched this or how many of you care but I do because I did and I have… so I will…
Here’s the idea: Recast the whole thing but use the same characters and start again as if it’s the next week’s show. (The next week after the week when it was so mercifully cancelled, that is.) Good idea? Sure. Problem is it sucks. I mean, recast? That’s great except that the new Scotty never – I mean NEVER - sounds Scottish. Can’t someone get him a dialect coach? And starting from the next week? As if the movies never happened?
Yeah, but they did. Remember? The odd-numbered ones sucked. Remember? “KAAAAAAAAHN!!!!” Remember?
Also, the only way to watch these things is to download some real beefy files – not their fault, I know. I’m just saying.
Okay, so what’s good? I should mention something that’s good…. Right?
Well, to tell the truth, take everything about the old show and just flip it – make a negative image – for the new one. So everything that was good then is bad now, and everything that was bad then is good now. For instance: effects. Sucked then – pretty now. Sets. Cheesy then – retro and kinda cool now. (I mean, everything is the mother-fucking same! It’s like they went to Shatner’s garage sale or something!) Actors. Good then, which is to say they fit their part – bad now, which is to say I can’t help getting the feeling this is the Federation Fanclub Presents Star Trek. Acting (and, I know this is confusing but)… bad then – equally bad now but in wild and purple ways.
Is there a bottom line? Yes. You have to watch this. If you loved the old Original series, you have to watch it for nostalgia. If you hated it, this just gives you more creamy goodness to hate.
Enjoy it with someone you love… and throw up a little in your mouth.
(And, yes, if they read this you better believe I’d sell my wife’s left kidney for a chance to be cast on the mother-fucking show!)
(Don’t worry, Vic. They’re not reading.)
(Kidney. Yummy kidney. I’m just saying)
But, fortunately, that was aborted in 1969 when someone wise and wonderful at the network watched it… and threw up a little in his mouth. Let’s face it, the original series was really bad at times and an early death did it good. After all, the movies were only half bad and the Next Generation was (I can’t say anything bad or Vicky will KILL ME)…
I thought all of my original series pain had been suffered.
Um.
… No.
Because, thanks to the fans… actually, thanks to fans with lots of money who can afford to produce new shows, new shows are, well, being produced.
Yep. It’s Star Trek: The New Voyages.
Now, I don’t know how many of you have watched this or how many of you care but I do because I did and I have… so I will…
Here’s the idea: Recast the whole thing but use the same characters and start again as if it’s the next week’s show. (The next week after the week when it was so mercifully cancelled, that is.) Good idea? Sure. Problem is it sucks. I mean, recast? That’s great except that the new Scotty never – I mean NEVER - sounds Scottish. Can’t someone get him a dialect coach? And starting from the next week? As if the movies never happened?
Yeah, but they did. Remember? The odd-numbered ones sucked. Remember? “KAAAAAAAAHN!!!!” Remember?
Also, the only way to watch these things is to download some real beefy files – not their fault, I know. I’m just saying.
Okay, so what’s good? I should mention something that’s good…. Right?
Well, to tell the truth, take everything about the old show and just flip it – make a negative image – for the new one. So everything that was good then is bad now, and everything that was bad then is good now. For instance: effects. Sucked then – pretty now. Sets. Cheesy then – retro and kinda cool now. (I mean, everything is the mother-fucking same! It’s like they went to Shatner’s garage sale or something!) Actors. Good then, which is to say they fit their part – bad now, which is to say I can’t help getting the feeling this is the Federation Fanclub Presents Star Trek. Acting (and, I know this is confusing but)… bad then – equally bad now but in wild and purple ways.
Is there a bottom line? Yes. You have to watch this. If you loved the old Original series, you have to watch it for nostalgia. If you hated it, this just gives you more creamy goodness to hate.
Enjoy it with someone you love… and throw up a little in your mouth.
(And, yes, if they read this you better believe I’d sell my wife’s left kidney for a chance to be cast on the mother-fucking show!)
(Don’t worry, Vic. They’re not reading.)
(Kidney. Yummy kidney. I’m just saying)
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Insult meet Injury…
Did I mention I’m still out of work?
I got passed up for another job today. After over a month of interviewing and talking on the phone, the manager decided to go with a last-minute internal candidate.
This isn’t about how they should at least buy me lunch for all of the sleep I’ve lost and gas I’ve used and pants I’ve needed to squeeze into (which has nothing to do with it but, dammit, someone’s responsible!) – this is about what happened after I got turned down.
… the phone rang.
… it was an employer.
… calling to talk about a job opportunity.
… they wanted Vicky.
… you may laugh now.
I got passed up for another job today. After over a month of interviewing and talking on the phone, the manager decided to go with a last-minute internal candidate.
This isn’t about how they should at least buy me lunch for all of the sleep I’ve lost and gas I’ve used and pants I’ve needed to squeeze into (which has nothing to do with it but, dammit, someone’s responsible!) – this is about what happened after I got turned down.
… the phone rang.
… it was an employer.
… calling to talk about a job opportunity.
… they wanted Vicky.
… you may laugh now.
Just a note about Nader…
There have been some rumors popping up that Ralph Nader may run for office again and, amidst all of the clamor about how he “stole votes from Al Gore”, I feel I need to comment.
First of all, more people running for office is not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. It means more choice for you, the voter. People are always complaining about how elections have turned into the “lesser of two evils” and, yet, they complain when another candidate (Nader) may run – idiots!
Secondly, and most important, Nader did NOT steal votes! Any votes he got in Florida during the ’00 presidential election, he got fair and square. It was Bush who stole the votes! Remember? So stop blaming Nader, for crying out loud! Turn your energy to the real culprit – Bush!
… and, of course, if you never thought that way, you’re free to go about your business…
First of all, more people running for office is not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. It means more choice for you, the voter. People are always complaining about how elections have turned into the “lesser of two evils” and, yet, they complain when another candidate (Nader) may run – idiots!
Secondly, and most important, Nader did NOT steal votes! Any votes he got in Florida during the ’00 presidential election, he got fair and square. It was Bush who stole the votes! Remember? So stop blaming Nader, for crying out loud! Turn your energy to the real culprit – Bush!
… and, of course, if you never thought that way, you’re free to go about your business…
Monday, February 05, 2007
Challenge - Week 2
Well folks the results are in........
Vicky ~ lost 0.4 lbs for a total of 4.0 lbs
Ken ~ lost 0.8 lbs for a total of 4.2 lbs
Yes, I'm letting Ken win for at least one week (Superbowl Sunday was a day of eating bad food, so I may pay the price this week).
Vicky ~ lost 0.4 lbs for a total of 4.0 lbs
Ken ~ lost 0.8 lbs for a total of 4.2 lbs
Yes, I'm letting Ken win for at least one week (Superbowl Sunday was a day of eating bad food, so I may pay the price this week).
Overheard at the gym today…
Obviously ignorant young woman on the treadmill: “I have a friend whose brother is in Iraq right now. That’s why I hate those liberals…”
You mean the ones who are trying to stop the war??? No, she must mean some other “liberals”…
Ironically, this was on the same day Senate Republicans blocks the Democratic effort to have a debate on the war, saying that they “welcome the debate and are happy to have it.”
Yes, the people who stopped the debate are those who want it and those who want to stop the war are those who don’t support the troops.
I just checked the calendar to be sure – it’s 2007, not 1984.
You mean the ones who are trying to stop the war??? No, she must mean some other “liberals”…
Ironically, this was on the same day Senate Republicans blocks the Democratic effort to have a debate on the war, saying that they “welcome the debate and are happy to have it.”
Yes, the people who stopped the debate are those who want it and those who want to stop the war are those who don’t support the troops.
I just checked the calendar to be sure – it’s 2007, not 1984.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Chili…
“How come you used to cook for Rosa but you never cook for me?”
There it was again. I’d heard it before and I knew I’d hear it again. It was Vicky’s way of saying, “Would you like to make dinner?”
So, of course, I replied, “What would you like me to make, hun?”
“Anything.”
“Anything” meant “I have one specific thing in mind. If you guess incorrectly, I will cut off your head and devour it like a pineapple and you will forever be crushed beneath the boot of my guilt.” I had to guess correctly.
Fortunately, the conversation had resulted from my mentioning how I used to make chili… I had a clue what she wanted.
I had my own way of making chili before but I wanted to do things a little differently this time; I didn’t want Vicky thinking I was making the chili “she” used to eat, ya know?
I started by scouring the Internet(s) for really cool chili recipes and, after I found a few, put them together and sent them off to my cook-buddy, Jenn. She sent back her ideas, I tweaked them, and I was off to the store where I changed the recipe again. And yes, you’ve probably guessed what a disastrous recipe can result from combining several recipes, tweaking that, and then improvising on a few things as well. Surprisingly, it was pretty good.
Ken & Vicky’s (and Jenn’s)(and other anonymous folks on the Internet(s)) Chili…
2 lbs. ground beef (chili grind)
1 lb. Pork (cubed or ground)
12 oz. chorrizo
1 tsp. black pepper
3 beers
2 tsps. Oregano
1 can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
1 tbsp. cumin powder
3 tbsps. chili powder
1 tbsp. Salt (kosher, of course)
4 cloves crushed garlic
1 28oz can crushed/diced tomatoes
1 med onion diced
1 med bell pepper diced
1 large Poblano chili
½ pound of red beans
First things, first. Soak those beans! You can put them in a bowl of water overnight or (if you get in a rush like me) boil a pot of water, remove the pot from the stove, and soak the beans in the water for about two hours.
Then, brown the meat. This might be a slight misnomer when it comes to the chorizo. Anyone who’s ever cooked with the type of chorizo we have in southern California will tell you that, after you squeeze it out of the tube, it’s more about grease management than browning… but do your best.
Set aside the meat and wilt/caramelize your onions and bell peppers in a very large pot. (You’ll be adding everything to this pot so make sure everything can be comfortable.) After the veggies are nice and relaxed, move the meat into the pot. Then, add your garlic, poblano, two of the beers (the third is for you – you deserve it), and the whole damn can of chipotles! (You can smooosh the peppers in your hand to break them up a bit.) (And remember, this recipe was made for someone who loves spiciness so, if you don’t like it spicy, you might want to tone it down a bit.)
Add about half of the spices. Later, you can use the rest to spice to taste.
Add the beans but be sure to toss the reserve “bean water”.
Let that get going for a while – time is meaningless – until you’ve got a good boil going on. Now, add the tomatoes and put a good lid on the pot. Let that boil for about 5 hours, stirring occasionally. You shouldn’t run out of fluid but, if you do, just pour in some water. Make it whatever consistency you want.
Spice to taste.
This recipe will probably be revised as the years go on and you’ll probably find ways to amend it, too. Change up the peppers. Take away the beans if you want. It’s up to you.
I’m off the hook from cooking for a little while… but now that I’ve said that…
There it was again. I’d heard it before and I knew I’d hear it again. It was Vicky’s way of saying, “Would you like to make dinner?”
So, of course, I replied, “What would you like me to make, hun?”
“Anything.”
“Anything” meant “I have one specific thing in mind. If you guess incorrectly, I will cut off your head and devour it like a pineapple and you will forever be crushed beneath the boot of my guilt.” I had to guess correctly.
Fortunately, the conversation had resulted from my mentioning how I used to make chili… I had a clue what she wanted.
I had my own way of making chili before but I wanted to do things a little differently this time; I didn’t want Vicky thinking I was making the chili “she” used to eat, ya know?
I started by scouring the Internet(s) for really cool chili recipes and, after I found a few, put them together and sent them off to my cook-buddy, Jenn. She sent back her ideas, I tweaked them, and I was off to the store where I changed the recipe again. And yes, you’ve probably guessed what a disastrous recipe can result from combining several recipes, tweaking that, and then improvising on a few things as well. Surprisingly, it was pretty good.
Ken & Vicky’s (and Jenn’s)(and other anonymous folks on the Internet(s)) Chili…
2 lbs. ground beef (chili grind)
1 lb. Pork (cubed or ground)
12 oz. chorrizo
1 tsp. black pepper
3 beers
2 tsps. Oregano
1 can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
1 tbsp. cumin powder
3 tbsps. chili powder
1 tbsp. Salt (kosher, of course)
4 cloves crushed garlic
1 28oz can crushed/diced tomatoes
1 med onion diced
1 med bell pepper diced
1 large Poblano chili
½ pound of red beans
First things, first. Soak those beans! You can put them in a bowl of water overnight or (if you get in a rush like me) boil a pot of water, remove the pot from the stove, and soak the beans in the water for about two hours.
Then, brown the meat. This might be a slight misnomer when it comes to the chorizo. Anyone who’s ever cooked with the type of chorizo we have in southern California will tell you that, after you squeeze it out of the tube, it’s more about grease management than browning… but do your best.
Set aside the meat and wilt/caramelize your onions and bell peppers in a very large pot. (You’ll be adding everything to this pot so make sure everything can be comfortable.) After the veggies are nice and relaxed, move the meat into the pot. Then, add your garlic, poblano, two of the beers (the third is for you – you deserve it), and the whole damn can of chipotles! (You can smooosh the peppers in your hand to break them up a bit.) (And remember, this recipe was made for someone who loves spiciness so, if you don’t like it spicy, you might want to tone it down a bit.)
Add about half of the spices. Later, you can use the rest to spice to taste.
Add the beans but be sure to toss the reserve “bean water”.
Let that get going for a while – time is meaningless – until you’ve got a good boil going on. Now, add the tomatoes and put a good lid on the pot. Let that boil for about 5 hours, stirring occasionally. You shouldn’t run out of fluid but, if you do, just pour in some water. Make it whatever consistency you want.
Spice to taste.
This recipe will probably be revised as the years go on and you’ll probably find ways to amend it, too. Change up the peppers. Take away the beans if you want. It’s up to you.
I’m off the hook from cooking for a little while… but now that I’ve said that…
Friday, February 02, 2007
And now, from the “What the hell are they thinking” department…
It’s galling, the level of disgust to which the Republicans can descend.
First, they get us into a war in a country that never did anything to hurt us.
Now, they’re trying to do it again. This time, it’s Iran. They tell us that Iran harbors terrorists (just like they said about Iraq) though they have no proof. They tell us Iran has weapons of mass destruction (just like they said about Iraq) though they have no proof. In fact, there’s proof out there against the assertion. The Repugs say that Iran has nukes when Iran is decades away from this.
But, let’s face it, folks, war has been very good to these people and their crony multinationals. Where do you think the additional $245 billion are going? Whose pockets do you think those line? And now, they want to go to Iran under equally egregious, equally dishonest grounds.
And it’s only just starting. Today one Repug said that Clinton wouldn’t make a good president because she was “too timid” in her attitude towards Iran, as if a presidential prerequisite must be “war criminal” or, at least, the desire to become one.
They’ve led us down the rabbit hole to show us it’s an abattoir.
And I’m no fan of Clinton’s. I’m not even a Democrat. But I think one clear distinction that continues to show is this: Mention “war” and you can tell who not to vote for by measuring the drool on their chins.
First, they get us into a war in a country that never did anything to hurt us.
Now, they’re trying to do it again. This time, it’s Iran. They tell us that Iran harbors terrorists (just like they said about Iraq) though they have no proof. They tell us Iran has weapons of mass destruction (just like they said about Iraq) though they have no proof. In fact, there’s proof out there against the assertion. The Repugs say that Iran has nukes when Iran is decades away from this.
But, let’s face it, folks, war has been very good to these people and their crony multinationals. Where do you think the additional $245 billion are going? Whose pockets do you think those line? And now, they want to go to Iran under equally egregious, equally dishonest grounds.
And it’s only just starting. Today one Repug said that Clinton wouldn’t make a good president because she was “too timid” in her attitude towards Iran, as if a presidential prerequisite must be “war criminal” or, at least, the desire to become one.
They’ve led us down the rabbit hole to show us it’s an abattoir.
And I’m no fan of Clinton’s. I’m not even a Democrat. But I think one clear distinction that continues to show is this: Mention “war” and you can tell who not to vote for by measuring the drool on their chins.
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