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COMPLAINTS, MUSINGS, AND OF COURSE WISDOM FROM DOUCHEBALL HIMSELF! NO'MSAYIN'? ~George Carlin
Archives
April 2001 May 2001 June 2001 July 2001 August 2001 September 2001 October 2001 November 2001 December 2001 January 2002 February 2002 March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 December 2003 January 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 January 2005 February 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 December 2005 
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Wednesday, July 31, 2002
Saturday, July 27, 2002
Check out Janet's January 26th entry.
It provides a very interesting perspective on parenting. Specifically, how parents deal with those of us without children, who are quick to criticize their methods of child rearing and discipline. It's a very emotionally based topic, that is often polarizing. It's kind of like discussing the death penalty or abortion (obviously, it's much less significant than either of those issues, but you get the comparison I'm drawing). Since I can't resist putting in my 2 cents, I will limit my commentary to this (for now): every person has a different level of tolerance for the behaviour of other people's children in public places. And the people (like myself) who have less tolerance and react to it should have our personal space be respected by parents and other guardians. All too frequently, we experience just the opposite. The expectation is for us just to "deal with it" (whatever the child may be doing). Then, we are greeted with great hostility when we verbalize our frustration. Frankly, I don't think it's fair that I get this kind of reaction when I'm imparting my great child-rearing wisdom to a parent in a supermarket, restaurant, movie theater, etc.. (actually, I rarely say anything to anyone in these situations, for fear of embarassing poor Lorene; I just fume). By the way, my folks never allowed me to stare over a seat in any restaurant at the people behind us or allowed me to run in to people's legs anywhere. . I was usually referred to as an angel by people my mother encountered in public, because she never tolerated that kind of behaviour out of me. Also, speaking as someone who regularly has his legs run in to...at the zoo; more than once have I been tripped up and nearly fallen on a child. Trust me, no parent wants 300 lbs to come crashing down on their child. The guilt that I would feel if I injured a child in this fashion would be horrible, even though it wouldn't be my fault. Good topic though, Janet. Probably could be debated endlessly without anyone's mind ever being changed. Anyone else have a take on this one? Fuck, sometimes I really use parentheses too much. On the fun side of things, I saw Goldmember this evening and laughed harder than I've laughed in a long time. From now on, I wish for my genitalia to be referred to as my "meat and 2 veg" (since my genitalia is so frequently discussed). By the way Toni, I swear I had this entry completely typed up last night, but for some reason blogger wouldn't publish it. I promise I wasn't ripping off your comments that you made on Janet's blog. We're just very in synch on this issue. Music: "Tired Of Being Alive" by Danzig
Friday, July 26, 2002
Deep sigh of relief
I got the job, contingent to a background check. As far as I know, my background is clean. I don't know what they look for in a background check. Is it just to see if I have a criminal record? Do they check my employment background? Who knows? The only thing bad in my background is traffic violations and I was fired from a job when I was 19 or 20 or so. Anyhow, I'm not comfortable writing corporations names that I'm associated with on my blog, so if you wanna know where I got hired at, call or e-mail me. Special thanks to the love of my life, Lorene, for being so tolerant of me through all of this. I've been pretty much unbearable through this waiting period. Just ask her. Music: "Dueling Chanters" by the Chieftains
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
Tuesday, July 23, 2002
Oh,
I was just about to take down my Top Tens page when I noticed that Connie had actually left comments on the page recently. So, I responded and left it up...for now. Music: "Candy" by Iggy Pop
My current Onion horoscope:
You do not subscribe to the sinful, heretical theory of evolution. You do, however, subscribe to Young & Chubby Bubble Bottom.
Monday, July 22, 2002
Yet another interview...
I just got home from Lorene's house, celebrating her birthday and showering her with gifts. Before that, I went to my third interview, and have found out that I will be waiting until Friday to know what the hell their decision is. I got the old "if we decide to make you an offer, we'll call you by Friday. If you don't hear from us by then, we'll send you out a letter that says go fuck yourself". I'm drained. The stress is really hard for me to deal with. I can deal with a lot of things, but employment issues aren't among them. I feel like they're stringing me along with the mindset of "if we can't find anyone better, we'll settle for him". I feel so terrrible that I can't come home and tell my parents that I got it. Every 5 minutes, someone is asking if I've heard back from them, and I get to tell them no. Staying positive is so goddamn hard in a situation like this. Aw, shit! I just realized that it's 9:10, and I forgot to record wrestling! One more fucking thing!
Thursday, July 18, 2002
Job hunt update
So, Wednesday the girl that I share a cubicle with gets a phone call from the firm that we interviewed with. She gets offered a position on the spot. I don't get a call that whole night. I am a complete wreck that night. Couldn't sleep. Stomach turning. Mind racing. Hands shaking. Anyhow, today I'm in a career seminar and I keep calling home and checking my messages. I finally get a phone call from the firm. I am invited back for a THIRD FREAKING INTERVIEW! It's scheduled for Monday. So, my cubicle partner gets to enjoy her weekend knowing that she has a job after this one ends. I, on the other hand, get to stress all weekend long. Don't get me wrong. I am grateful for the opportunity. However, it is taking a huge toll on my stomach. I am so nervous all the time. In case you don't know, the laid back guy you see at get-togethers is anxious, to the point where it's unhealthy. Especially about employment issues. I know it's wrong, but I tend to base my worth on my employment. I think I need to get some help for that. Music: "Out Of Habit" by BR5-49
Tuesday, July 16, 2002
My current Onion horoscope:
The old adage, "If you fall, get right back up on the horse," is sound enough advice, but it assumes you own the horse and that you weren't knocked off by a Medieval Times employee. Hmmm...maybe there is something to this astrology stuff.
These here pictures...
...are not from our vacation. Rather, they are pictures of the douchey goose ("Fucker") that goes after me when we go feed them on Sundays. Now you get to see him in attack mode, where he lowers his head, spreads out his wings, and walks sideways at me (in some of these pictures, you will see his mate, who is almost as douchey as he is; just smaller): 
Here is a Canadian goose that loves to hiss and act tough, but never bites. I always let him know that he is the best hisser at the pond: 
And these are the 2 sweetest geese at the pond. One of them will actually stand there and let you pet it for a few seconds while you are feeding it. Then it will honk like mad to tell you that that's enough. And you can't really see it in this picture, but they both have the most beautiful, bright blue eyes. These 2 have actually chased off "Fucker" and his family when Lorene was getting chased by that bastard. Seriously cool birds: 
Music: "Nowhere Girl" by B-Movie
More pictures! Whee!
Here are some pictures from our vacation to Vegas. Not many of them turned out very well, so I just have a few. The fact that I kept forgetting my digital camera didn't help much either. Here's a baby shark in the baby petting pool at Mandalay Bay: 
Here's a hammerhead in one of their cool shark tanks: 
Here's my cute monitor lizards. Aren't they adorable? 
Here's 'Rene petting a baby stingray. These are the neatest creatures. They seem to like attention like some slimy little underwater dog: 
New link...
I've added Janet to my links page. I visited her weblog a while back, but didn't have the attention span to read her lengthy entries. I still can't read all of them, but she generally has insightful things to say, and I did enjoy the rant about the mobile home park manager. Check her out, if you don't already. I went to a job interview today. I despise that whole process. It works my stomach in to a bubbling mess. I'd better get used to it, though. It's probably just the first in a long string of interviews. Blech. I have no idea how the interview went, by the way. I can't really read people that well. They did the gang-interview thing where I was sitting across from 2 women who would each take every other question. (I really wanted to humorously embellish this story, but you never know who's gonna find your blog at some point in time...so, I'm refraining) I went home, and nursed my stomach back to normalcy, got out of those fucking dress clothes, and slothed around the rest of the day...until I went to Lorene's house to help her move her old bedroom set downstairs. By the way, my Great-grandfather is doing quite a bit better. Music: "The Cross" by Samael
Saturday, July 13, 2002
I could get used to this...
This whole working 20 hours a week and being paid for forty is pretty sweet. Too bad it won't last. This coming week, I'll have to be there more, as I have to attend this job search seminar for 2 days straight. That should blow ass. It better be fucking helpful. So, my great-grandfather had to be taken to emergency again, this week. Tuesday night it was. My Mom and I ran him up there. I hate the fucking hospital, now. It's unbelievable to me that we get him up there at 7:00, and we can't get him in to a room until shortly after midnight. I guess it doesn't matter to hospital folk that people may have to work the next day. I would say we were there for 5 hours and he was lying, waiting in his little room in emergency without any attention for about 4 1/2 hours....just...waiting. It seems to me that if you're that understaffed, then you hire more people to help out. Pricks. But then, I guess that's me oversimplifying things, as usual. Anyhoo, his kidneys weren't functioning properly and he was dehydrated (we found out later that this was due to the doctor prescribing his medication incorrectly). He is back home now, as of Friday. My Dad is participating in a softball tournament, and last night got a softball to his face, which chipped a tooth, gave him fat lip, and aggravated his TMJ (I don't know what that stands for, but it's a condition where your jawbone, specifically at the point near your ear, aches; it kind of feels like an earache, and afflicts people who've had braces; I'd always wondered why I feel that pain there, and now I know). He's playing several more games today in our lovely 100+ degree weather. I hope he doesn't get heatstroke. Is everyone as miserable as I am with the goddamn heat. I am tired all the time from it, and it makes me sick if I'm out in it too long. Autumn can't come soon enough for me. By the way, 4th of July was a damn good time, even with the awful heat. That park is great, and thank goodness that we have Jeremy's grandma's house to walk down to for bathroom usage. Music: "I Will Not" by Can't Say
Wednesday, July 03, 2002
My last night of overtime...
...and I'm gonna be here virtually by myself (there'll be 2 women clear the hell across the room). I guess it's a good thing. Time to dink around and send Lorene some e-mails. However, I fear that it'll be too busy to play. We'll see. So, I've got a couple of gripes and a theory about fast food places. Here goes. I love sauce. Especially fry sauce and creamy horseradish. Everywhere I go, I always ask for extra sauce. Some of the employees are nice about it. However, I am encountering an annoying trend. When I ask for a whole bunch of sauce at certain places, (which shall remain nameless) I have started to encounter resistance. I get some teenager giving me a dirty look and asking me why I need so many. I'm sorry! I had no idea that I was obligated to explain just what I'm going to do with the fucking sauce that I'm ordering! (just so you know, I usually ask for so much because I like a bunch on my sandwich and my fries) Why, just the other night I was told "I can't give you that many horsey sauce packets with just one sandwich". Excuse me? I just spent 8 fucking dollars on a sandwich, fries and a shake, and I can't have 8 packets of horsey sauce? Of course, this riled up the asshole in me, and I asked (in an extremely snide tone) "well, then could ya sell me some"? She looks at her boss nervously, and says something that I can't hear. I see him throw his hands up in the air in exasperation, and snaps "OH, JUST GIVE IT TO HIM"! What the hell is that crap? Are fast food chains now being bankrupted by SAUCE? Fucking douchebags! If your food costs are that outrageous, then charge for the goddamn sauce, but don't interrogate me and give me a hard time when I want extra. Yes, I'm well aware that I'm a fatass who probably could do well to go without extra sauce (see, I know what they're thinking). However, that is a decision that I can make for myself, when I'm ready. I don't need a fast food restaurant manager making it for me. Another thing that annoys me (although not nearly as much) is the chains that serve fries but no fry sauce. Yes, I'm fully aware that it's a Utah phenomenon. However, if you're serving Utahns, you oughtta be able to accommodate them. Everyone knows how popular it is out here, and ketchup by itself is so vile tasting. How hard is it to mix up some mayo and ketchup and picke juice? Not hard at all. Another annoyance of mine is the fact that when you go to a fast food restaurant, I would say you have at least a 25% chance of their shake machine being "broken". What the fuck ever! (here's where the theory comes in) I think that these queaffs close the goddamn thing down early (since it's probably a pain to clean), and tell you it's broken. I'd be interested to hear Jennifer Hoffman's input on this. Also, when it really is broken, there's no hurry to get the bastard fixed. When I pull up to a drive-up window, I tense up because I expect to hear that it's broken, and I love a good chocolate shake. By the way, my dinner tonight, the night before July 4th, cost $9.11. We're all gonna die tomorrow. Music: "There You Are" by the Goo Goo Dolls
Monday, July 01, 2002
Astrology...
I notice lots of astrology talk around the blogs I read lately. First of all, it always surprises me to see astrological postings on Scott's blog. I can't imagine someone like Scott believing in such nonsense. On the other hand, it alarms me that I seem to embody many of the traits of the Taurus that I am supposed to be. And that I am compatible with a Cancer, which astrology has told me I should be. Also, I have dated an Aquarius, and that didn't work out. Just like astrology says it shouldn't. These things irritate me, as I feel like maybe it's wrong for me to completely discount it. Regardless, I still think it's baloney, but I can certainly see the entertainment value in it. Just thought I'd weigh in with my thoughts on the topic.
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