Hooters Sells More than Wings...they sell crabs too

Chef made me watch a Tivoed commercial last night. Normally we Tivo to whiz through the commercials, but in this case I had seen the show and was interested in the :60 of idiocy.

It's for Hooters and has a bunch of the typical Hooters waitresses trying to sell crab legs for $7.95 / lb. The manager (who was female for a nice PC touch) is baffled by why the waitresses aren't selling the crab legs until she discovers that they have been weighing each person who orders the legs and multiplying their weight by $7.95. Basically this is a dumb blonde joke personified.

The mix of Hooters, crabs, legs and short shorts was a little too much like a violation of the health code for my taste. Hooters also forgot something. No one goes to Hooters for legs or crabs. It's all about the wings.

South Park premiered last night and Chef and I stayed up to watch the demise of the show's Chef. I say 'stayed up' because those bastards at ABC know how to fuck up Tivo by having shows like 'Lost' run a few minutes over and thereby missing the first few minutes of South Park, or any other show you'd want to record. Remember when TBS used to start everything 5 minutes later than the networks? It's just that annoying.

Anyway, they properly lampooned Isaac Hayes and Scientology which had me thinking. This brew-ha ha happened a mere week or so before the beginning of the season. Could this be a clever publicity stunt or prank? Before you tell me that I'm off-base, remember the fiasco with Cartman's Dad and the entire Terrence & Phillip episode on April Fool's Day.

I'm not saying this is a likely scenario, but it could happen. Either way, the bowel evacuation produced one of the longest cartoon turds I've ever seen and that's something to be proud of.

Doing Everything Twice Isn't That Nice

Today has been one of those days where I've had to do everything twice. I had to get dressed twice (because bloating made me regret my first choice). I had to leave the house twice (because the first time I forgot the tampons associated with the aforementioned bloating). I had to leave the office twice for a meeting because I forgot my proposal. I had to go back to the restaurant after the meeting because I left my leather portfolio there. And now the computer just acted funny so I had to write this blog twice.

I might play the lottery on the way home and if I win the first time, I'll play again. If I'm doing everything twice, I might as well get some money out of it. It's just been one of those days. At one point in the day the most excitement I had had was learning we'd finally bought appropriate backcovers for our report binders.

However, I did get excited about a few other things and here they are in no particular order:

• The Colts dropped Jimmy "Handjob" Canada and picked up Adam Vinatieri. Wonder what his sexual indulgences will be. Nonetheless, it was great pick up. I'm exceptionally happy.
• One of the employees here spoke to the media on an issue I need media attention on without my help and I get to reap the benefits. That never happens.
• I went until noon without a frosty carbonated beverage and really didn't even notice it.
• I get to go home to Chef.
• There's a new "Lost" and the new "South Park" episode lampooning Chef on TV tonight.
• I can read more Assassination Vacation because I finished that wretched A Prayer for Owen Meany.
• It's five o'clock and I get to go home.

Word.

I've Got More PP Than Mississippi

I've been trying to incorporate more water into my daily intake and it's working. Well, sort of. I had to buy a couple of lemons to add to the miz. I add a slice of lemon by cutting it up into small pieces and jamming it down the neck of my water bottle. I get to use a knife and forceful action first thing in the morning. It's a good time.

However, the side effect is having to pee all day long. Luckily the bathroom isn't that far away, so it's not that bad. I pee a lot anyway and this is really upping the ante. I might have to invest in some Depends or a catheter if my productivity dips too low.

On a less urine-filled note, I'm reading Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell right now and it is fabulous. Although if you're a staunch Republican this is not the book for you. However, if you are politically neutral or liberal and just want a funny book about presidential assassinations, this is definitely a good. Or if you're just curious about how someone can find humor in presidential assassinations, it's also a good read.

Making Lemon Water out of Water & Lemons

Have you ever gotten past the age of 23 and stayed up deliciously late even though you knew that you'd be hurting at work the next morning? That's me today. I've had 4 hours sleep and was in shark mode until about 15 minutes ago when a call to Tivo pushed me over the edge.

I was mad, I was tired. Now I'm leaving. Chef says he'll let me sleep for a little bit before having to wake me, as to not mess with my sleep schedule so much. If he hadn't been given a crappy weekend-laden schedule, I wouldn't have been compelled to stay up until the wee hours of the morning to spend time with him. Damn Chef's employment!

No matter what the extra hours with him were worth the delirium.

The Sociology of Shit

Part One (10:14 a.m.): Totally will probably be a long day. I came to understand and accept that fact this morning when I pulled in to get a drink in a vacant parking lot of the gas station. When I was leaving, there was a car pulled up close next to me with about 9 inches of space for me to wiggle my ass through. There were NO other cars in the parking lot.

That's like searching the best toilet in a public restroom to take a shit in and having someone sit right next to you even though every other stall is open. I HATE that.

Speaking of public sit downs, I know some of you are a little apprehensive about taking the big S at work. I know this is a girl thing and it has to do with not wanting to be associated with a particularly bad smell or sound. Definitely understandable.

One day when I was working at a different job the lights went out. The ladies room smelled of poo. I would LOVE to do a psychological experiment on the effects of anonymity on the ability of women to shit in public.

I, however, was born without that embarrassment chip. In fact, with the plethora of people around work that I don't take kindly to, I've started playing a little game. After I've gone to the bathroom (which is right outside my office) and I've left my shit smell for others, I keep track of who's the first to walk in after I'm finished. I have a point system based on how much I like a person. There are two people here that I can't stand and they're worth the most points. It's a good time.

Part Two (10:27 p.m.): I was forced to listen to the IU game online. It's actually still going on, so I say these things not knowing the outcome. Because my onilne March Madness on Demand isn't working and the game is blocked out here, I had to find the game online. The only brocadast I could find was from San Diego State. Obviously I have a hard time listening to the opposing team's broadcast, but the guy doing the game (and it's only one guy) is horrible.

Things for him to note about Indiana:

• Bob knight would not "roll over in his grave, if he were dead" over the striped pants in the warm-up suits. They had them when he was there. And alive.
• It's Sean Kline. Not Steve Kline.
• It's Robert Vaden. Not Peter Vaden.
  
• After hearing it once, we can firmly know that Earl Calloway is not related to "Ricky Calloway, the former Hoosier who left Bob Knight."
• The Hoosiers haven't been "bad" since Bob Knight left. They actually were National Runners-Up in 2002.
  

Tom Cruise Made Him Do It

I'm so disappointed in Isaac Hayes. Here is a man that has no problem shilling for gambling aka lottery tickets, but now has the audacity to be pissed about moral wrongs.

Let me get this straight: He was an active participant in poking fun at racial stereotypes, disabilities and nearly every religion that the majority of Americans participate in, but Scientology crosses the line?

I'm calling Shenanigans! Now he has a problem with religious commentary, but in the ENTIRE episode about Mormons that the words "Dumb dumb dumb" were chanted in the background(All About the Mormons?) he was okay.

Don't suddenly throw around words like bigotry and hate without expecting a little sanctimonious backlash.

Honestly, I bet Tom Cruise or John Travolta put the squeeze on Ole Isaac to make him denounce his cash cow. As Matt Parker so aptly said "he's cashed plenty of checks -- with our shows making fun of Christians."

If you can smell a hypocrite like I can, click here and let Issac Hayes know that you're on to him.
Oh well, I was sick of the chocolate salty balls anyway.

Taking What I'm Given Cause I'm Working For A Living

That first day back after vacation sucks ass no matter you do to try to make it better. You can make it a Tuesday to shorten the week or avoid all appointments. No matter what you try to do to make it better, it's always going to end the same way: exhausting and bad.

Today was no exception. Chef and I spent last week in Tampa visiting my cousin and generally being a lazy ass in nice weather. Today I come back to thunderstorms. After a week at the Dali museum, the beach, and going out, it's back to Suck City, USA. Plus another person who was actually good at her job is leaving us. It was basically another slap in the face that it is time to get the hell out of dodge. In a couple of days, I'm going to start listing companies that I'd like to work at and asking everyone to scan their brains for any connections they might have at these companies.

On another note, while we were enjoying the Florida sun, Chef and I decided to make a nice meal for Doug and Erin for putting us up and putting up with us for a week. Actually, as his title infers, Chef cooked and I just helped shop. I also did dishes. Anyway, Chef made a world-class meal: Caesar salad, herbed roasted potatoes, chateaubriand with a red wine sauce, and strawberry cheesecake with two bottles of red wine. It was delicious. Plus it made me realize that he needs to come grocery shopping with me on occasion to have a nice meal at home. We have some nice meals, but not this nice. This was spectacular.

Oh well. Friday's only four days away.

Tyco with yo money? Geico for Your Money

Any day that starts off in the gynecologist office, is not bound to be a good day. Double that if you're there to have an "irregularity" check out. It doesn't matter if your doctor says "It's most likely nothing." Once you have to check off the box next to cancer in the "immediate family members ailments" section, your imagination starts freaking you out.

This freak out was no doubt compounded by the fact that I found out yesterday that one of the guys I used to harass in high school just died last week from...cancer. The rational side of me knows that the likelihood of cancer at my age is small. The irrational side of me starts remembering every episode of "Dateline" I've ever seen with a young cancer patient. My minds thinks of nothing but tears, wigs and how old Stone Phillip has gotten in the last couple of years. He's really starting to need the Barbara Walters filter now.

Anyway, I checked out "normal." So, that at least went okay.

This afternoon, however, I got into a small car accident. The car in front of me stopped short and I hit it. I only messed up my driver's side head light and a small dent in my hood. Chef and I were supposed to be off on our tour of Florida tomorrow, so I took it to get an estimate. The estimate came back for $2100 and at least 4 days out of commission. Ouch.

Thankfully I have insurance and that's what it's for, but obviously our trip will have to be delayed and it will be taken in a rental car. My insurance will pay for most of the rental car, but we'll have to shell out some too. Ugh! When we first got the estimate back, it sucked ass. Mostly because we'll have to wait until Monday to go anywhere. My first accident in 11 years and it comes the day before my vacation.

At least no one was hurt. That's what I'm supposed to say. And I can't really complain too much because nothing like this has really cramped my style in a while. God love insurance.

Ways to Appreciate Where I'm At More

The first way is to have to spend time in Birmingham, AL. For some reason my work always sends me to Birmingham. I've been there about 6 times and no one time stands out as particularly more fun than another. At this point, I'd rather visit Memphis than to hit Birmingham one more damn time.

I also never sleep well in the Big Birm. I'm thinking that I've gotten used to sleeping next to Chef and that I miss it when he's not there. He said he didn't sleep well either, but he's reluctant to give in to my theory.

I will, however, be driving through Birmingham in about week when Chef and I head back down to Florida. I'm so damn excited to be counting down the days until we leave. The only down side is that I know when we get back it'll be a long time before I go on vacation again.

On another note, is anyone else sick of the men's speedskaters "feud"? I'm so tired of hearing about the whining and bitching. The US only gives a shit about speedskating once every four years and these guys are going to use that time to air out personal grievances? Get over it.

Not only that, but men are shitty at feuding. Unless there's a tire iron involved somewhere, Nancy and Tanya did the catfighting better years ago. Leave the real rivalries to the ladies, you amateurs.

The Need for Weeds

Chef and I spent the better part of Sunday lounging around and watching TV. Actually, we spent a good deal of time watching the computer. Eager to test the video capabilities of the new iPod, we downloaded my favorite episode of The Office ("Office Olympics"). Then Chef suggested downloading the Showtime show Weeds.

He'd heard good stuff about it and so we downloaded the first episode. The next day we watched it off of the computer and we were hooked. I haven't heard a lot about this show because I don't have Showtime, but it's one of the best things I've seen in a long time. In fact, if Showtime gets Arrested Development from Fox, I'll definitely become a subscriber just for those two shows.

Weeds follows a suburban white woman, Nancy, from her PTA-friendly Uber-white planned neighborhood as she deals pot to her neighbors. Nancy is forced to make ends meet after her husband dies suddenly of a heart attack and turns to dealing weed to keep up her lifestyle. My favorite dialogue from the first episode came from the first five minutes of the show. When Nancy goes to her supplier's house, she questions the weight of one of Heylia's bags and comes to this response:

Heylia: "Child, I could eyeball an ounce of weed from outer space with cracked glasses."

Conrad: "Don't mess with Heylia. She's the Rainman of weed."

Anyway, it's a good time. The music in the show is pretty bitchin' too. Check it out on iTunes. We bought the whole season and it was the best money we've spent in a while.

On another note, what does say it about me that I watched an episode of 30 Days about binge drinking and thought the whole time "Man, a cocktail does sound good right now." I cracked open some wine about 5 minutes after the credits rolled.

The Olympics Ratings Jugger-Not

Am I the only one that's not entirely impressed with the Olympic coverage this year? I'm totally underwhelmed. None of the stories are really compelling me to watch when I can just log onto msn and spend 10 minutes reading a recap. Of course, this will probably change when Women's figure skating takes center stage, but that's still some days away.

First of all, snowboarding to me is like watching NASCAR or the X games: unless there's a huge crash, I don't want to sit through it. I've never skiied, luged or skeletoned in my life. Curling is reserved for my hair and if I can't even go backwards on skates, I highly doubt that I can work up any speed.

At least in summer sports, it's stuff that nearly everyone has or can do. Running, playing baseball or softball, basketball, table tennis, tennis. Normal sports. There's not much more of snowcross I can take.

I got my ipod yesterday and I've been rocking away since. I'm now spending the last of my friday afternoon figuring out what songs that I want to download this weekend and fill this badboy up. Song suggestions are always welcome. Unless they suck.

Two Things I Noticed AFTER I Got To Work

There are days when I'm in such a rush that I don't notice things that most people would. Like that I'm wearing a dark bra with a shirt that's not dark enough to conceal it. Or that my shoes were actually dark brown and not the black I thought they were.

Today there were two things that slipped my notice:

1. The underwear that I had chosen did not have sufficient elastic. In fact, their comfort was only because they had relatively no elastic. So by the time I had waddled out of the gas station, I was bending slightly at the waist to ensure they wouldn't head south before I hit the car.
2. My accessories choices made me look like a sparkly Avril Lavigne. I had a black skirt, purple top and black boots on, but I thought that my purple sequined scarf, big obnoxious purple "jewel" bracelet and black "power bead" bracelet would be a good combination. Instead, they added up to me looking like a pseudo-corporate punk rocker. If only I still had on my dark purple nail polish to complete the look.

I let my boss know today that just as I got back from vacation, I'm leaving again. Chef's spring break is in two weeks and we're already getting ready to go back to Florida. Not so much for the binge-drinking party all night Spring Break-a-palooza as much because it's not here. This kind of attitude cannot be good in the long run for our state of mind. Perhaps it's time for a relocation.

Married and Proud to Be Americans

I chuckle to myself when I say "all the snow." Where I'm at that usually means 1/2" or less. The newspaper around here ran a picture of kids playing in the mud outside that read "A Snow Day without The Snow."

Nonetheless Chef and I left it all behind us for the sunny shores of Florida. We had such a fabulous time that we started planning our return trip before we even left. So, we're almost certainly going back for Chef's spring break.

We drove A LOT in a little amount of time, but our time together was fabulous. It put everything in perspective. This trip was living. The rest of the things we'd been doing were not our real life. I just realized how stressed out I've been getting for no good reason. Getting away and reprioritizing did me some good.

My cousin Doug and his new bride Erin had a great wedding, but one of the oddest interludes that I'd ever witnessed. The DJ seemed like a nice enough guy, but one that needed to be the center of attention at all times. He was a biker buddy of the Erin's dad and liked to use the microphone more than an announcer at Shoe Carnival.

Before we knew what was happening, this guy had asked us all to get in a circle and join hands. Expecting some form of the chicken dance (the conga had already happened), I was reluctant. However, soon enough the words "Show that we're proud to be Americans" came out of his mouth and when I looked to my right, Chef had bolted.

That's right. We all stood there swaying with Doug and Erin looking incredibly uncomfortable while the DJ sang along to Lee Greenwood. I've never seen anything like it.

Hi Ho Hi Ho To Florida I Go

Today the weather turned cold and wet. The sunny morning gave way to a craptastically gray afternoon and now the nastiness is in full throttle which only means one thing: TIME TO GET OUT OF TOWN!!

I am so excited to be getting the hell out of here. And to a warmer place. Even if it rains, it won't be 30 degrees and it won't be here. Plus just being in a climate the can successfully grow palm trees instantly makes me feel better.

We don't get snow, so I can't bitch too much. However, in my travels, I'll be missing two of the worst events in our office so it's a double bonus.

Miss me!

No Reason for the Skin Reminders

Today I was sitting in on a conference call with several co-workers when I noticed that one of them had skin that reminded me of my mother. This lady had no resemblance to my mother at all. She has reddish hair, she's tall and she has a nose ring that would've made my mom cringe. But for some reason today the skin around her neck reminded me of mom.

There was a cluster of freckles and a tanned patch that reminded me of my mom's skin when I was younger. When our house had a pool and mom spent a good amount of time out in the sun watching us kids as we begged for attention while attempting a jack knife or cannonball. She'd always patiently look up from what she was doing (usually attending to the landscaping) and smile and clap no matter how badly our dive went.

I used to stare at that patch of skin at night when she'd rock me in our recliner. I'd sit and stare at her freckles, sometimes connecting the freckles with imaginary lines, and watch the oven clock slowly turn away the minutes. Every morning I'd wake up in my bed and wonder how I got there.

It didn't strike me as particularly weird for being reminded about some aspect of my mother. I've seen people in passing and thought "Wow! That woman walks like my mom" or even seen a guy who eerily reminded me of my grandfather.

What was odd was that I saw another woman this afternoon whose skin also reminded me of mom's, although at a totally different time in her life. The woman had a taut, almost yellow face with circles under her eyes and a chill went through me. I couldn't look away.

It's weird that after all these years, I can be living my life and get a physical reminder of her. Now I'm trying if there is a reason for the sightings or if I'm trying to find the reason in them.

On another note, my hair smells like chicken. I ate chicken at lunch and it squirted into my hair, which was lying on my boob shelf. Although I was happy that my shirt was spared the majority of the attack, it left me smelly for the rest of the day. In fact, even though I put my hair up in a pony tail, the smell of chicken still haunts me.

I'm Just Glad It's Over

Have you ever had one of those days that end with nothing but smiles and laughter for the mere fact IT'S OVER?!?!?!

Today has been so long, eventful and unexpected that it was done with I was extremely happt I hadn't really scheduled anything. It was like I knew in the corner of my mind things were going to go wrong.

Before noon, I had done three radio interviews for an event, taken the heat for something that wasn't my fault for the company to save face, gone 50 miles round trip to drop the last of something off only to find out on my way back that another bigger company needed what I had just given away, spent an hour on the phone calling lighting companies to see if they had the item in stock in the quantity that I needed and then planning on making 5 afternoon trips around town to pick up the items and drop them off.

That was just in the morning. I am just glad that day is over. What made the day easier to bear? Hearing my inner voice shout "I'm getting an ipod" when something crappy happened. I did my taxes and am able to get the precious with my refund check.

Only four more office days until the Florida wedding trip. Did I mention that I'm meeting Chef's family for the first time too?

Kafka the Rock Opera

There's nothing like getting really busy and knowing that you'll be on vacation soon. That during a time of year YOU KNOW will be excrutiatingly busy there is an uncontrollable family obligation (ie a cousin's wedding) that you must attend. I'm so glad to be missing some of the fun that I don't mind the longer hours and extra work and running my ass off now.

Not only that, but the wedding is in Florida. Warm weather, not in a state I've been to in a while and with a kick ass group. I'm looking forward to it already. Plus I added an extra day to ensure that I'll be recovered before heading back. Oh the joys!!

Right now I'm juggling three events, an office fundraiser that I'm in charge of plus a looming press conference at the end of the month. It's crazy.

On another note, Chef has introduced another program into my life that was missing before: Home Movies. It's an animated show on Adult Swim that apparently ran back in 1999 about these little kids that make home movies. Perhaps the funniest was the one where one of the kids made Kafka: The Rock Opera. My favorite song is "Being a Bug Ain't Easy" and goes a little something like this:

Being a Bug Ain't Easy
All My Old Clothes Don't Fit Me

I've got tiny bug feet
I don't know what bugs eat

Afraid of everyone steppin' on me
Now I'm sympathizin' with Fleas

Being a Bug Ain't Easy

Pure comic genius. My favorite new tune.

Speaking of the Big O

Oprah's birthday is Sunday. Not that I'm such a fan that I have her birthday memorized, but everyone can name at least one person born on their birthday. I can name several:

• Oprah, whose quoted as saying "All my life I always knew I was born to greatness." If I'd have known that years ago that she'd said that, things would make a lot more sense to me. Like the whole "Remembering Your Spirit" segments.

• 

  Tom Selleck: Quigley Down Under. There's a price on his head. A girl on his mind. And a twinkle in his eye. That's all I'm saying.

• Edward Burns: Directed one good movie and had one good soundtrack. Unfortunately they weren't for the same movie.
• Heather Graham: Dated Edward Burns. Perhaps the competing birthday parties lead to their break up. Either way her birthday this year is marred by the cancellation of "Emily's Reasons Why Not" after one episode. One reason why not: No viewers.

So I'm turning 27 when these people are turn...older than me. Yet that provides me with little solace. I'm young. I get that. However, I realize that the days are numbered when that could be my excuse. Don't forget to remember me on MY day.

What exactly is the 'emotional truth'?

About two years ago a book came out that I almost picked up. It had freaky-looking cover art and was a memoir. At the time, that's all I really looked for in a book.

Since I started reading David Sedaris books about that time, I started looking for other humorous memoirists. I stumbled upon Augusten Burroughs who was both funny and so utterly sad that my childhood looked perfect in comparison. Let's all admit it: the best memoirs make us feel better about ourselves and most do it because we're damn glad NOT to have gone through what the author has.

Anyway, I almost picked up James Frey's A Million Little Pieces because it was related to Augusten Burroughs (a memoir about addiction), but I heard it wasn't all that funny. So I put it down and didn't think about it again...until Oprah thought about it.

Last Fall, she picked the book as her next book club selection. I breathed a sigh of relief from having avoided it. Only once have I read an Oprah selection and that was because she picked the book AFTER I had read it. I really don't want to read anything that would remotely be considered"uplifting," "inspiring" or anything that claimed to have an effect on my "soul" or "spirit." I'm not that kind of girl.

However, she picked the book; Frey lied about what happened to him and got caught. What happens? First Oprah supported him because the book conveyed the "emotional truth." What the hell is the "emotional truth"? How can you "emotionally lie"? Is there an "emotional lie detector"?

Then she gets so many emails from people pissed off that they bought the book that she invites Frey on the show to berate him publicly and resend her previous defense of the book.

Here's what I don't get: Hundreds of customers are calling to get their money back. They know they only bought the book because Oprah told them to. The book was supposed to entertain. Did it do that? Yes. If you read it, then you got your money's worth.

Thousands of people are going to see "Munich" right now. Many of them believe that everything that happens in the movie is true because it was "based on true events." Should they get their money back too? A memoir is not a documentary or non-fiction piece. There isn't a lot of supporting statistics or studies that can validate an anecdote. People, you bought the book. Get over it.

I'll Admit it, I'm Watching Celebreality shows

I resisted Dancing with the Stars. I graciously didn't have to witness Strange Love, the Flavor Flav/ Bridgette Nielson thing. I try to avoid reality shows that feature celebrities. I prefer to watch amateurs that think that their reality show will make them a celebrity.

However, it started this summer when I got addicted to My Life On the D-List. Mostly because I love Kathy Griffin. I'm totally watching her new Bravo reality show Alledly when it comes out.

But then came Celebrity Fit Club. I have to admit there's always something fascinating about seeing stars you remember as a kid that have been Supersized. They have great excuses for it to, like "I didn't want to be a sex symbol anymore" when the truth was "I wanted to taste every flavor of Haagen Daaz ever made."

My favorite was Jeff Conaway because he was clearly messed up. Not only on drugs, but also on ego. I don't care if you're the pope, when you start referring to yourself and using "THE" in front of your name, you deserve the fall, buddy.

And then last week came the worst of my digressions: Skating with Celebrities. I won't watch them dance, but add the element of potential danger and I'm there. Plus it had Todd Bridges, who didn't let me down by 1) not being able to skate and 2) using a phrase from Diff'rent Strokes that wasn't even HIS character's catchphrase. Priceless, but endearing in its sadness.

I watched again this week. I think Jillian Barberie and Kristy Swanson are the only ones worth really pulling for. What the hell am I talking about? I'm watching this for the same reasons I watch any celebrity-based reality show: I'm waiting for someone to fall.

I don't know what makes me more sad

I was driving to an appointment this afternoon and looked to see a homeless person rolling his cart down a major thoroughfare. Upon closer inspection, I saw that his cart was from Hills. I don't what makes me sadder: that the man was homeless so long that his cart came from a store that was prosperous in the Reagan days or that I miss the slightly warmed over pee smell that came from the Hills dressing rooms.

In my hometown, the Hills store closed down just as I moved into town. Shortly thereafter it became a Venture when I was in middle school. I got what I thought was a very cool purple suede vest there. I didn't, however, buy the bodysuit to go under it that was so popular at the time.

After Venture failed, it became a ShopKo. ShopKo is like a generic version of K-Mart, only with cheaper merchandise. Seeing as K-Mart had just opened the first in the line of "Super" stores to come to town just a few months earlier, ShopKo became the place to go when you needed toilet paper or Crystal Pepsi at a good price, but didn't want to wait in line.

After ShopKo left, I think the place became a warehouse of those transient mega blowout sales for a while. I'm not sure, but I know that Lara could tell me if I could get a hold of her. Now it's a Burlington Coat Factory but those in the know say it's in the old Hills building.

On another note, the Chinese New Year is on my birthday this year. It's the year of the dog and I'm trying to decide how I feel about that. I wish I could say that I wanted a dog for my birthday, but I'd settle for an ipod of any type. Damn all you ipodians!!

Happy Cyberversary

I actually missed it. Last Wednesday was actually the one year mark of this blog. I think in honor of showing commitment to something for a year (God knows it wasn't my healthy eating plan), there should be a name. And not just a name, but crappy name that combines two things together and tricks you into thinking it's cute and clever. Plus I want royalty rights like Pat Riley with "Three-peat." I heard that Paris Hilton tried to get "That's Hot" trademarked.

So it was down to "cyberversary" or "annivblogary."

Nonetheless, it's Monday and it sucks. I was actually sick all weekend and not just faking it on Monday, like Presh. The only good thing about being sick on the weekend is that it gives you an excuse to lay in bed watching TV the whole time without the guilt of thinking "I should be doing something."

Friday was a day that I did everything on. I had a TV shoot, a 2 hour meeting and in between my boss was in town from Atlanta to do my mid-year review. It's days like that that make me realize why I don't schedule shit on Fridays. I prefer my jeans-wearing, slacking, blog-writing Fridays, dammit.

Why is Melanie Griffith famous? And other Burning Questions

Was it "Working Girl" that did it? Her also borderline famous husbands? Do two craptastic stars who are married equal one decent single star?

I actually didn't watch the Golden Globes last night. As much as I indulge in star gossip, I still can't sit through 3 or 4 hours of people congratulating themselves for reading well and working. Because that's what it is. Think about it: True celebrities aren't busting ass to make ends meet, so they only end up doing one movie that's released per year. How do they choose what movie? They read or have someone else with taste read and figure out what would be the best role to make a splash in.

Lately it's pretty easy to figure out. Here are some good standard rules for picking an award-winning or at least award-nomination garnering roles:

1. Play the part of a recently deceased musician. (examples include Ray, Walk The Line) Hello? Who HASN'T seen VH1's Behind the Music? Make it a 2 hour episode and cast some cuties for a sure hit. Drug abuse never looked so good.
2. Play the ugly person...for a change. (examples Monster, The Hours, TransAmerica, Million Dollar Baby, Bridget Jones) We like to see pretty girls gain weight so that they think they're "normal" in size. However, they're still usually about 30 lbs under the average American weight, so throw in a prosthetic nose for good measure.
3. Add homosexuality, transsexuality or sexual ambiguity into the script. (examples Brokeback Mountain, Capote, TransAmerica, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Tootsie, Shakespeare in Love, anything with Hillary Swank) Tape down those tits. Tuck your schlong and kiss someone of the same sex. Then wait for Middle America to be pissed and the critics to rave.
4. Play someone with an emotional or physical disability. (examples Rain Man, Forrest Gump, Philadelphia, As Good As it Gets). It kind of goes with the audience wanting to see a person ugly. We also want to see them have a disability of some sort. It makes them seem like the dumb person we all secretly hope they are.

Enough about awards. I didn't watch the Golden Globes because I was watching '24'. It premiered over two nights with four great hours of Jack Bauer. It almost made the Colts losing on Sunday hurt a little less. It did, however, get me out of bed after my depression set in.

I'll get over it soon enough. Just not yet.

Luckiest Unlucky Athlete

Just a quick word today but the word is luck.

Over the weekend, a football player faced probably the worst luck in his otherwise lucky existence. Carson Palmer the Country Club Quarterback got his knee messed up on his second play on the field. Not just walking funny messed up, but physical therapy after two surgeries and some odd looking knee braces messed up. He's out of the game and the team trudges on with a back-up who was relegated to back-up because he couldn't get the job done. And he didn't on this day either.

That's bad luck. Here's the good news: Palmer signed his contract extension a mere 10 days before this incident guaranteeing him $118 million over the next nine years. Had he waited to focus on the playoffs he would've been worth about tree-fifdy.

That's lucky. Oh and he completed the pass for 66 yards that sacrificed the knee.

Have Your Cake and Puke it Up Too

Is anyone really all that shocked that at least one of the ultra-skinny stars in Hollywood has confessed to having an eating disorder? Are we taking a page out of the book of Tracey Gold now?

We know it's not a great trainer.

We know you aren't naturally "small-boned."

We know people aren't supposed to count ribs showing as a six-pack.

We know you don't really "pig out" on fast food when no one's around, unless you throw it back up again.

At least the "Growing Pains" girl had the balls to admit that her anorexia. Now it's Lindsay Lohan and bulimia. Shocking. A girl loses a shitload of weight and it's attributed to drugs and an eating disorder. The sympathy card has finally been played.

Excuse me if I don't have a lot of sympathy for someone who gets paid millions to read with emotion, sings as a second job and gets to party like it's 1999 every day of the week. There are plenty of girls with actual problems of divorce, rape, poverty and other horrors we like to pretend don't exist who have eating disorders without the public support of Vanity Fair. In fact, some of them are currently dancing to Lohan's songs at strip clubs.

Most of these celebriteens say they want to look good and feel pressure to lose weight for roles. However, some people NEED a little pushin' cushion to retain their cuteness and appeal.

Case in point.

Hillary Duff was passably cute on Disney. Now she looks like one of those all-day suckers you'd get at Disney World.

It's okay to have fat on your body. In fact, if you do it at the right time (ala Renee Zellweger and Charlize Theron), it might land you an Oscar.

For the love of Krispy Kreme, pick up some Glazed. At least some donut holes. And let them sit in your stomach.

I'm Gonna Flaunt It

I had to get out of the office this afternoon. It was one of those days that I couldn't break out for lunch and it was too early to leave but if I didn't get the hell out of my office, the walls would close in on me. So I did. And I recruited another refugee.

After piddling around the neighborhood, we ended up at this new little area of shops that just opened up. One of those places that make you feel 5 (or more) years older than you really are because of the cool factor. It's oozing from its hiply painted walls. I wanted to stop in because I'd heard of a hair salon that I'd been wanting to try. My last salon was great until the stylist told me she wanted to do a $200 every 2 months hair color on me. Then I was out the door.

Anyway, next to the hair salon was something I've been waiting for for the last 7 years: a plus size boutique. In my world, boutique usually translates into "overpriced clothes for old ladies." However, in this city, boutiques mean "overpriced clothes you that are unique." The place was called Flaunt, which seemed like a reasonable name because the owner was a big lady who was flaunting it.

For those of you who haven't had the experience of walking into a store and instantly having to dart to the shoe section because you know nothing else will fit you, you aren't missing much. What you are missing are the looks of disdain and annoyance (some imagined, some real) from salespeople who know that either you aren't going to gain them any real commission or your going to require scissors and needlenose pliers during your visit.

Flaunt had none of that. I walked in, felt at home and a great sense of freedom and satisfaction knowing that everything in the room would fit me. Not only fit me, but was designed to look good on people like me. The prices didn't even give me convulsions. In fact, with all the increases at Lane Bryant, the prices at Flaunt were about the same. So, I'm officially hooked. However, if this saga ends anything like my love affair with Arrested Development, I'm totally screwed.

The Hatfield & McCoys of the Discount Dining Realm

Living in an urban area, I don't often get too inundated with the redneckness. I mean, there's the usual Rebel Flag stickers on trucks, the occasional "This Trucks too Low for a Fat Ho" decal and of course Calvin pissing on a myriad of things from company logos to NASCAR driver car numbers.

However, every now and again I get a snippet of life outside the city limits. This one came courtesy of an Associated Press story printed in our newspaper. The fact that it was printed once is questionable and the fact that it was reprinted in a larger newspaper is completely head-scratching.

The headline reads "Growing Dispute leads longtime customer to protest Waffle House" with a subheading of "It all started when he asked for milk for his coffee, man says." We get a story about a pissed off Waffle House customer. Has anyone NOT left a Waffle House and been pissed off for some reason?

Anyway, the long of the short of it is that the guy was told to buy a glass of milk for milk in his coffee. He was pissed and even more pissed when a regional manager accused him of smoking pot in front of the restaurant. That last allegation garnered him a ban on Waffle House from "here to Knoxville."

He sits outside a Waffle House with a sign that reads that the regional manager of "Waffel House" is "wagging war" against him, a disabled American "Vetran" (who doesn't play any sports-including basketball) and this regional manager of "Waffel House" wants to rule America like a tyrant--from the comfort of his little yellow box. The picture is really worth it all because it shows the man holding up his "Waffel House" sign in front of the restaurant's four foot tall sign with the correct spelling.

No one from Waffle House is commenting on this man's protest, which also includes 12 signatures in support. Again, I don't know how this made the paper. Let alone the front section of the paper. As a full-sized story. About a pissed off customer.

Anyway, happy new year and holidays and all that crap. I'm back in the office after nearly 11 glorious days off. 11 in a row. This morning really sucked ass. I hate it when people say "Well, you just have to get back into your life." Uh, hello. I was INTO my life. I was really into my life when you interrupted and made me go back to work. Work is income, hopefully something interesting to pass the time. Work is not life. If it is your life, you need some help.

However, we get off on MLK Day and I'm going out of town in February, so the sting of working is only going on long enough to daydream of more vacations and time off. Throw a birthday in there and the pain of post-holiday seems that much easer to deal with.

By the way, if this is global warming at work, I'm going to find every can of banned Aqua Net filled with CFCs and spray away. It's the second day of January and it's 65 degrees and sunny here. I'm only hoping this lasts long enough to enjoy. I'm also hoping the mildness of winter stays with us because we haven't gotten Chef a proper winter coat, so I always feel guilty when it gets below 30 outside. So raise your styrofoam cups and freon in unison.

Writing for the Enemy

I've done a fairly good job up to this point in my life avoiding politics. Don't get me wrong. I have to join in the fight when I'm called to duty for work, but for the most point, I try to leave my opinions out of my work.

I even made it a point not to pursue traditional journalism in college for fear of having to do the "hard news" and be forced to sit in countless city council meeting. Little did I know that I would end up sitting in city council and school board meetings anyway.

Nonetheless, imagine my surprise when I was asked to write a speech for a very conservative and popular Senator that I'm not a big fan of. It's an honor for sure. And when I'm ready to apply at the Heritage Foundation, I'll make sure to mention it.

On another note, I had a moment of pure rage and empowerment the other night. My friend Greg and I were at the movies seeing RENT when we were unfortunate enough to be in the same theater as ten middle school age kids. Five sat in the back row of the nearly empty theater and five sat in the front row. They yelled back and forth to each other during the movie, threw hats and scarves at the screen and were generally annoying.

I was tolerant at first thinking back to my own days of showing off for the crowds. However, my nostalgia wore off about 5 minutes later. After one guy shouted "Shut the fuck up!" the group quieted down for about two minutes. When they started up again, I had had enough. I got out of my seat, marched up to them and said "You need to shut the fuck up or I'm getting a manager to toss your asses out of here. I paid my money to see this movie and I'm going to see. So shut up or leave!"

I sat down and the adrenaline was pumping. It's yet more proof that perhaps children aren't really right for me. Nonetheless they quieted down and then five minutes later they all left. Greg and I were happen to watch the rest of the movie in peace. And quiet.

In My Head, I'm Worth More than All of Them

Forbes has an article out that just makes me warm and fuzzy for the holidays: The Forbes' Fictional 15. Fifteen fake people that are the richest in the world. If it's not bad enough that we have to be reminded of REAL people that are richer than us by Time .

The thing that kills me is the time that was spent on the issue. Articles about who dropped out, why Ted Clampett moved up (Black Gold, Texas Tea, Bubbling Crude-- They all mean the same thing: CASH), articles about the conditions and hours in Santa's workshop, the business philosophies of Montgomery Burns, and all kinds of other crazy crap. If I wanted fake news, I'd watch The Daily Show. I'd hate to have been someone that paid for that.

Besides, I bet that in my mind, I'm a WAY bigger fictional billionaire than those people. I spend at least $20-100,000 a day by going "Wow! I could really use a new car" or "Man, I wonder how much that house cost?" I've already accumulated billions by my fabulous inventions, my best-selling novel and my three movie appearances (one of which garnered an Oscar nomination last year).

In my head, I smoke all those bitches.

Everybody Wayne Chunn Tonight!

Yesterday during a conference call, I picked up a newspaper that had been lying on my desk and laughed out loud at the expert on the front page. Of course, I happened to laugh when one of my colleagues was discussing the fishing out of dead bodies from New Orleans, but I recovered miserably with a "I have to laugh or I'm going to cry."

The cause of yet another social faux pas: L. Glasscock. That was the guy's name. Well, I abbreviated the first name to protect the unfortunate, but you get the point. that's just a bad name.

It reminded me of the names that I would randomly come across in my time doing phone solications. I kept a list and am sharing them with you:

Curley Bumpus (Perhaps a different take on “bumpin’ nasties”)

Hugh Callaly (say this one out loud)

Wayne Chunn (Everybody have fun tonight!)

Crystal Glass

Mary Beaver

Harry Person

Teenie Hooker

Muff Farmer

Marina Plant

Oakerlene Corpier (it’s just funny)

Sometimes I'm more like a 12 year-old than I would like to admit!

Shove that Candy Cane Up Your Ass

People are already starting with the office Christmas shit and frankly, I'm ready to shove their cheer right up next to the candy cane.

First of all, people are decorating their individual offices. Okay, I understand wanting to celebrate the changing of the seasons. I even have a little snowman that was gifted to me in the office exchange one year sitting on a bookcase. However, he's also holding a sign that counts down the days until Christmas vacation. Not the holiday, just the glorious days that I don't have to be here.

However, there are others that are going overboard. Lights, trees, motion-detecting musical items that aren't turned off when their owners are gone. If the Scooby-doo lunchbox I had on my file cabinet two years ago was considered tacky and I was told to take it down, why do the wreath made entirely of glitter (which is on the floor) and the singing Santa get a stay of execution?

Aside from all that, there's the annual Christmas party. We've had one every year for the 4 previous Christmases that I've been here. Last year, I was unable to go to the party because one of my co-workers scheduled a TV commercial to be shot in the middle of it. Then she refused to go comfort her nervous volunteers on set because "well, I don't want to miss the party." This is the same woman that called her assistant into the office when her assistant called in sick, yet took the afternoon off to do Christmas shopping.

This year it didn't seem like we were having a party. Then I looked at the calendar. Some people were having a Christmas party. I just wasn't invited. That's right. Only half of the office is invited. And the worst part is that they tried to keep it a secret, yet mysteriously half of the office has an "off-site staff meeting."

There's no "I" in team but there is in "Christmas," bitches.

Puffy, Swollen Eyes

I had passed it many times at Blockbuster. There were several things going for it that I wasn't too keen on:

1. It was about boxing and I don't get the point of two people beating the shit out of each other.
2. It had Hillary Swank who reminds me of Secretariat.
3. Clint Eastwood kind of creeps me out.

However, when it came in the mail from Blockbuster, I felt I had no choice but to watch Million Dollar Baby. For some reason, I at least attempt to watch whatever I've put on our Blockbuster list. It's like taking responsibility for my poor choices. I may have felt like watching a Bollywood version of a movie called "Bride & Prejudice" because it had Naveen Andrews in it at the time, but when actually faced with watching 2 hours of singing and dancing Jane Austen, the task was too much to bear.

With Million Dollar Baby, my interest was peaked. I knew very little about it other than the chick boxed and Morgan Freeman was in it. I have to say that I was highly impressed. Yes, it won a bunch of Oscars, but there's only a handful of Oscar contenders that I've seen in the last couple of years.

Anyway, if you haven't seen it, check it out. It went to places that I totally didn't see coming and I ended the night with a stuffy nose and swollen eyes, which are still plaguing me today. The story was great and after doing some research on the author, F.X. Toole, it's interesting to read some of the other things he's written.

That was my exciting night last night. I was hoping for something decent to watch on TV, but it appears the networks have left for Christmas vacation early. I mean, really, NBC! An Elton John concert that features Pamela Anderson pole dancing to the Bitch is Back. Is that really the best you have to offer?

Play On, Playa

I generally like to stay away from sports-related blogs, but I can't help myself today. The Colts won again making them 13-0. Having just clinched home field advantage for the play-offs, there's talk about whether they should sit their starters out for the next couple of games or play out the season and try for the 16-0.

Here's my vote: play it out. After every game they win when the subject of going 16-0 comes up, how do Colts players, management and coaches respond? "We're going to take it one game at a time."

Great. Fine, but if you're going to give me a sports cliche, can you at least live up to it? By taking starters out now, the team would not being playing it one game at a time. They'd be playing for 4 games from now. And if they're going to start predicting the future now, then why didn't they rest their starters for the last couple of games and just played Arizona at full force the last week of the season to clinch things. It would've given them the atmosphere of a play-off game because if they lost, they'd be jeopardizing things they'd worked all season for.

I realize that people get injured. People get hurt and can't play and that's bad for the team. But being a great team means playing your ass off and overcoming things that like. Or we could be like the Eagles and rest our starters to lose momentum and then lose the Superbowl.

If playing to the end goes wrong, Coach Dungy can always blame me.

On another note, my Christmas hysteria is starting to overtake me. I've only gotten three presents bought and I'm starting to panic. Plus we've got to send stuff to Chef's family in Florida which makes me more nervous. Please tell me someone else out there hasn't really started yet too.

I Feel Gay (Not that there's anything wrong with that)

And I'm feeling it in the correct usage for the word. I'm happy. I'm also in what is classified as a "domestic partnership", for the first time in almost 6 years.

What brought this about? Health insurance. My company is going through the usual open enrollment and for the first time in history they're offering insurance for domestic partners. I've never had need for this, as I've only lived with relatives and college roommates, but this year, it's coming in handy. With Chef starting school in January, our need for joint insurance has made itself abundantly clear. So having that option has made me gay (happy).

However, classifying Chef as my domestic partner makes me feel gay. The requirements to do so are written to be somewhat specific, not too stringent and very non-offensive. In fact, one of the terms includes the phrase "engaged in a committed relationship of mutual caring and support." Not exactly how or where I'd choose to profess my support and mutual caring of Chef, but whatever works.

The last time I was in a "domestic partnership," it was with college roommates when filling out a census form about 6 years ago. It was true in the broadest sense of the terms and hopefully helped balance the scales a little for all of those people who denied their "domestic partnerships." Plus we thought the phrase was funny in its effort to non-offensive.

On another note, has anyone else noticed those "top ten" lists for search engines? It seems like every one from google to yahoo to msn, has a top list. Have you ever looked at it and wondered "How the hell did he/she/that make it up there?" Sometimes I wonder if there are groups of fan clubs or people that decide "today we're making our move" and the proceed to hit one specific search engine a number of times so that it registers.

Case in point: "Jodie Sweetin." The lovable "Stephanie Tanner" from Full House. For some reason last week, her name was on the msn top searchable terms list for about 3 days. I tried to search for any news on her and come up with nothing.

I want to be a search engine star. Something with my name on the msn homepage. Or perhaps we should try to make a search term famous. Something like "red rocket." Anybody got any suggestions?

Monday's are great for the Gyno

I'm an equal opportunity hater. At least when it comes to days. Some people I despise more than others. People who come into my office with the phrase "I'm know this isn't your job, but...." is currently topping my list.

Anyway, my point is that I hate Mondays just as much as Wednesdays or Fridays. The only days I'm not hating lately are the ones that I don't have to work on. When I have to work, my day is pretty much shot.

There can be no better way than spending a cold, Winter Monday morning than with nothing but a sheet wrapped around you and crinkly white paper under your ass. Or better yet with your legs in stirrups. It's 20 degrees outside and only about 10 degrees warmer in the office. Of course, I could try to have my appointment in July, but they crank the AC up to about the same level then, so really it's no different.

My doctor is nice, efficient and knowledgeable. However, hearing the words "Well,that's not abnormal, but let's schedule another appointment to look at it again" never really started anyone's week off well.

That was followed up by a bunch of reminders that we're slicing budgets at work and things that we've done in the past that we won't be able to do now. Nothing says happiness like telling some people that they won't be getting your money this year. But when it comes down to it, it's either they get the money or I don't, so they can suck it.

Speaking of sucking, the Titans lost to the Colts yesterday. I'm finally getting my revenge on the Titans fans here. Of course, there's always some kind of excuse for poor play: piped in crowd noise, illegal call mimicking from the line, poor officiating and now this. You lost and you stink. Revel in it and get a better draft pick next year.

And as far as revenge goes, what kind of revenge would you get on your ex-husband who you only divorced officially two months ago, but is now becoming the adopted father to some other woman's kids? Definitely a wedgie or something far more sinister in mind. That would be a tough one to swallow, no matter how "centered" you are supposed to be.

Customer Service Sucks

Today I was trying to correct an error my bank made. I called one number, waited 30 minutes for this answer "Oh, this is the wrong phone number for that. Please call this other number." I called the other number and got "Oh, well, you have to go into your branch for that." It was at that point that I lost it.

It reminded me of that commercial for DHL where they tout their customer service by showing extreme, yet frighteningly realistic, versions of bad customer service. Of course, this is the same company whose driver threw boxes up to the second floor of our apartment complex from the atrium instead of walking them up. And it took him three tries to get it up there. Chef called and complained, but their customer service department didn't seem to care.

I've worked shitty retail jobs. I've been yelled out because of Beanie Babies and asked what present seemed appropriate for an imprisoned gay lover. I know it sucks. But when a non-idiot customer asks you where the rice cakes are, don't just point to an area. Actually show me that they've been moved to sit RIGHT NEXT TO THE DONUTS in a cruel home version of Temptation Island.

Oh and Nick and Jessica broke up. SHOCKER. I don't care if you've got millions of dollars the first couple years of marriage will ALWAYS be hard. Why make it harder by subjecting yourself to even more scrutiny and selling your marriage to the highest bidder? Also, releasing the information the night before Thanksgiving didn't really make it less newsworthy or make it so that you could have a stressfree meal.

It only means one thing: No Nick & Jessica Christmas Special this year. Now that's truly a genuine One Size Fits All present.

What Can Brown Do For You?

Chef and I were watching The Soup again the other day and came upon some clips from Being Bobby Brown. I never watched the reality show with Bobby and Whitney. Mostly because I didn't want to see Whitney be all crazy and feel like it was Bobby's fault bring her down, but knowing that she was probably really crazy to start with.

Anyway, one of the several clips shown feature Bobby talking to Whitney while she was doing her make-up. She looked like she was sitting at some sort of vanity, while he looked like he was sitting on the toilet. Anyway, he starts going into some story about how he used "these two fingers" (insert video of Bobby holding up his two index fingers) to get a turd out of Whitney's butt.

That's right. He scooped a turd from Whitney's butt.

Um, I love Chef, but I'll be damned if I would use my hands to crunch up his turds for him. I'd rather bleed than ask him into the bathroom for that.

On another, less fecal note, the management company has decided to let go of the maintenance and management crew that was running our complex. What does this mean? It means DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD. If not dead, at least fired or reassigned. Whatever it is, Shelly is no longer at our complex.

In the two short weeks (which included last week over Thanksgiving) since the change, the crappy ass plaster job that was done was ridicule and fixed by the new crew. They also actually came back--they were a day late, but get this, THEY CALLED TO TELL US THEY WERE COMING A DAY LATER--and painted the area. When they didn't have the paint that matched our bathroom and used a darker color, they offered to paint the entire bathroom to match the new color. Things might not be perfect, but I'm already liking the change.

Perhaps if She Played the Violin with a More Popular Part of her Body

gay

1 a : happily excited : merry b : keenly alive and exuberant : having or inducing high spirits
2 a : bright, lively b : brilliant in color
3: given to social pleasures;
4 a : homosexual b : of, relating to, or used by homosexuals

*****

From the gossip pages:
Paris (Hilton) is a "classically trained violinist," says Blender (via the New York Post), although it looks like she has no plans to show off her string skills on her much-ballyhooed forthcoming CD.

"I'm not going to be onstage playing the violin," she explains to the mag. "That would be gay."

*****

Which one of those means stupid? None of them. That's not even the most bothersome thing about this quote. It's just the first thing that I can think of to contradict. Actually, it was the first thing that She-Ra brought to my attention.

I have several other problems with this bit of gossip. First of all, I am technically a classically trained pianist, yet I haven't played piano for over 10 years. Does this qualify me to put down a recording of it? No.

Second of all, since I hadn't heard much about the Paris Hilton album since she was dating Nick Carter (which was like 2 engagements and 5 boyfriends ago), I was kinda hoping it was die--like her acting career after 'House of Wax'.

Or maybe it will be like a 45 minute-long all Paris version of "But Can They Sing?." The show itself might not be worth sitting down to listen to, but check out The Soup on Fridays for the highlights---and if nothing else, check out Bai Ling's performances. I have no idea who this girl is or what she does, but all the racket she's making makes me think she's an Asian Paris Hilton minus the money. What does she do, people?

Bill Gates Killed Santa Claus

I'll admit it. I drove about an hour and a half round trip last night trying to find an Xbox 360. Chef wanted nothing else for Christmas and we'd both contributed appropriate funds in preparation for this day. However, it really took only one phone call to realize we were screwed.

Chef called the Wal-Mart, which he had called on several prior occasions to check on Xbox 360 procedures. They assured it was first come, first served, but that we'd "better get here quick." So we hopped in the car and headed out there only to find that they had given out numbers a mere minutes before we arrived. All gone.

Frantic in our search, we started calling all Wal-Marts, Circuit Citys and Best Buys we could. Even in surrounding towns they were sold out before the Xbox 360 went on sale. Our only hope at that point was a Wal-Mart in a small town 45 minutes away. They said they'd put out chairs corresponding to the amount of stock they had and there were three empty seats. Half-way there, I had Chef call again: two empty seats left. Of course, we get there, they're full and I feel crappy because I didn't have any other Christmas ideas for him.

Come to find out that Microsoft is being a bitch. Stores presold more consoles than Microsoft shipped. That's there fault. But is it?

Despite all the claims, we all know that Microsoft is doing this on purpose. They overpublicized the product (hello...been to msn lately?) they knew they weren't going to have enough of. Why would they do that? Because lines and people camping out for your product looks good, especially since the last time your company got hyped it was for a monopoly trial or for Windows XP that was a big disappointment.

Besides, the good publicity does more than help immediate sales. Even Microsoft admits that the last Xbox had a great launch and then sales dwindled more over time than expected. So to solve that this time around they've created the sarcity scare. Consumer will line up this time and if they miss out, they'll pre-order the next time...and the time after that....and the time after that. Not only is the Xbox 360 the hottest thing to get, it's the hardest thing to get. Scarcity and status in one fowl swoop.

Okay, don't believe me. Xbox has sold about 32 million Xboxes since its launch in about 2000. So Xbox consoles sell at about 6 million consoles per year. Say only a third of that is US sales: that's about 2 million consoles. One would guess that more than one million of those consoles are sold at Christmas time. And that's without much hype.

So, why did the US only get an estimated 400,000-700,000 consoles for the NEW Xbox 360 this Christmas season. Poor planning? I don't think so.

So, screw you, Bill Gates, I'm going home...and without an Xbox 360. So suck it.

I hate you FOX!

But mostly I just hate the American audience. They have cancelled Arrested Development and it's all your fault. Actually, they haven't even done the right thing and officially cancelled it. Just not ordered the "back end" 9 episodes that would make up the second half of the season. That's like not breaking up with a girl, but also not sleeping with her so that when you do break it off you can assuage your guilt.

I'm not saying that all of America had to watch 'Arrested Development'. That would be unreasonable. However, here is a list of un-funny, unoriginal or just plain crappy shows that America has watched enough to keep on the air:

• According to Jim
• My Wife and Kids
• That 70s Show
• America's Funniest Home Videos
• Dancing with the Stars
• Freddie
• Hope & Faith
• Rodney
• George Lopez
• Hot Properties
• Crossing Jordan
• Medium
• The West Wing
• E-ring
• Criminal Minds
• Ghost Whisperer
• King of Queens
• NCIS
• Still Standing
• Yes, Dear
• Two and a half men
• Malcolm in the Middle
• Bones

And that's just with the four major networks. That doesn't include WB or UPN. So why can these shows survive only to have good, Emmy-winning shows taken off the air? From now on, I will only watch Fox for Family Guy and the last of Arrested Development. Until 24 comes back on and then it's only Family Guy and 24. But that's it.

On another note, I went to Comcast today to pick up some needed lengths of Coax cable. The customer service rep on the phone said they would provide some free of charge. So I went down there and didn't have a line and was told that I could only receive one of the 6 lengths that I needed for free and that the other lengths would cost 20 cents per foot. Not bad so I decided, FINE, I'll go ahead and pay the $3.60 for the rest. She told me I had to order it and then she said she'd see if they had it in the back. Excuse, aren't you a CABLE company? Would it be too much to ask that you have cable?

She brought it out and I handed her my credit card. She gave me a blank look as I stood at the window next to a giant sign announcing that they took Visa and Mastercard. "we only take cash for cable, " she said.

"Fine," I said. "I'll go find and ATM and be right back."

Twenty minutes later and out a $2 ATM fee, I returned with cash to find a very full lobby and had to wait 10 minutes in line to get up to a different customer service rep. I told the rep that the other lady had the cable and she said "Well, she put it back because she didn't think you were really coming back." So the new lady went and got me my cable and with cash in hand, she looked at me and said "Don't worry about it. We usually just give it to customers for free."

Our Meeting Needed Tampax and a Bottle of Vodka

I had a meeting today with a group of women. I'm much like many women in that I become prejudice against women when I'm dealing with a grouping over four at a time and that don't include my friends.

The first part of the meeting was spent telling our organization what was wrong with it and the second part was spent telling each other who they knew. None of this was exceptionally helpful and none of this was listed as an action item on the agenda. In fact, the meeting was held over a lunch period and didn't get over until nearly 45 minutes after the intended ending period. Besides I was really cranky at the end because I was presenting and therefore didn't get to enjoy my box lunch until after everyone else left.

Why do we have meetings and why as children do we have these grandiose image of meetings being helpful, constructive, almost biblical events? The only thing biblical about this meeting was that I wanted to stone any woman on her period.

Has anyone seen the NBA dress code? Players are bitching because they have to wear a suit or business casual attire when doing league business. Am I the only one that doesn't have a problem with this? Come on, professional athletes. You make enough to afford some nice shit, and introducing the business casual attire will let you show off a whole new level of bling.

Again, this goes back to my "professional athletes do shit that wouldn't fly in the real world" rant. Can someone tell me a profession that doesn't have some sort of dress code? Even strippers have to abide by the county ordinances as to how much they can take off. Can't an NBA player take the headphones off for a second, strap on a pair of Kenneth Coles, take off their sunglasses and act like they care?

We're Not That Stupid

Nicole Richie was on the Today show this morning looking like an Ethiopian child in need of 25 cents per day. All she was missing were the flies around her eyes and a Coca-Cola sweatshirt.

However, the purpose of her visit was to bring attention to her new book "The Truth About Diamonds." Am I missing the great lie about diamonds that the title alludes to? One of the characters in this book is Chloe, a daughter of a famous musician. The other character in the book is Sophie or Sophia or something like that, a rich heiress who also starred with Chloe on a reality TV show. Next time just name her "Moscow" or "London" because we aren't that stupid.

Richie insisted to Katie Couric that the character was NOT Paris Hilton but a composite character of several people she knows...that starred with her on a reality show. Again, we're not that stupid. However, I applaud Richie for out-Parising Paris by using Hilton to sell her book. Nice move.

What I don't applaud is the stupid-ass editor that gave this book a greenlight. At least get a ghost-writer for the poor girl. Insist if you have to because no one is fooled into thinking Richie can string 100-pages of coherent sentences together. Even the crappy-ass Nanny Diaries took two people to write it.

The 'Today' show web site had an excerpt from the first chapter. My favorite gem is as follows:

"Chloe had been going to the hottest clubs in Hollywood since she was this many, wearing L.A. Gear sneakers everywhere she went."

I'm guessing "this many" is the amount of fingers that a child would hold up to say his or her age. Interactive literature. True genius.

Squatters

I was in Cracker Barrel on Monday for a rare appearance at the breakfast table and was met with a little religion. I always like to get my religion with a side of sourdough toast and some penny candy anyway, so this was a delightful treat.

I was in the bathroom when I found a religious comic strip. Perhaps you've picked one up when someone has forced it in your face at the airport or other venue with large groups of people. I was familiar because this things were left all over a store that I was working at in college. Perhaps someone sensed my need to be saved or got confused when he or she smelled the abundance of incense.

Anyway, this company called Chick publications prints this things out and has people hand them out nationally to help spread the love and warmth of all fanatics. I say fanatics because I've lived in the South for long enough to know a lot of people who are Christian--even a lot of people that are really Christian, but none of them has expressed to me the sentiments laid out in this comic.

The book was called "Squatters" and I thought with the illustration and title that were on the front it would be about people in the Middle East. Little did I know that people in their own backyard piss off Jack Chick even more. Although there are many favorites, I've shown my current favorite panel below:


Why is it that all the things that are hated are always given a female pronoun? Especially when it comes to the Catholic Church because females aren't in control or perhaps they wouldn't have had that little problem.



I'm not eligible to make this choice because I don't have a penis. Perhaps a man will make it for me.


There are more that just repeat the themes of women are evil and can't be trusted and the Roman Catholic Church is controlling everything but is being controlled itself by the devil. There's a panel with a devil, the pope and a marionette that's interesting.


So the next time you're in a Cracker Barrel and are looking for something a little edgier than Coca-Cola memorabilia or Yankee Candles, check out the bathroom. Lots of shit in there.

10 Frivolous Questions For All to Speculate On

Some thoughts that are completely vapid, yet still in need of answers and opinion:

1. Who is the person that is going to die on 'Lost'?
2. Is it just me or is it pretty tasteless to have Jerry Orbach on a 'Did They or Didn't They Have Plastic Surgery List'?
3. How much should a good haircut cost?
4. If you could play any game on Price is Right, what would you play? I'd play Plinko. I'm a game show whore for cash--screw prizes.
5. Do Shera and Swampette still love me? (That's just a blatantly pathetic attempt to get them to comment--I'm sure they won't comment as to not reward my behavior).
6. How many months can something be incredibly broke in an apartment and not fixed before you're allowed to go nuts on some ass? I think 5 weeks is sufficient.
7. Chef sent me an article about how hormonal women are more attractive, but that we hide it with make-up and that evens the playing field. So I'm wondering if I need the make-up to catch up or if I'm more hormonal and thereby more attractive without it. What percentage of women do you think are more hormonal?
8. Why is it that no matter cable, internet or cell phone company you have, it always sucks? How can every media provider suck that much?
9. Why do I have to read European newspapers to see what's going on in my country?
10. How did Ann Coulter get away with making a flippant remark like "Well, it just means that the Republican party is getting rid of a man named Scooter"? Do you stop being Republican when you're indicted?

Okay, I'm done with the questions. At least for today.

Another Manic Monday

I don't think manic is the right word for it.

manic (n): excessive or unreasonable enthusiasm

If I had enthusiasm at all, I would be happy; let alone if it was excessive or unreasonable. But today I'm just trying to make it without feeling like stapling my hand to the desk would be a fun way to get the rest of the day off. I am moody, bitchy and totally ready to take a vacation that involves a beach, some sun and no worries.

What is it about Fall that gets me every year? For some reason, I always have dramatic mood changes in the Fall. When I was younger it made me edgy and I started thinking about the cyclic nature of school years and suddenly I was spiraling into depression that only Christmas could resolve. I was about 7 at the time.

Now it's more like a process where I start bitching to everyone around me and spreading my complaining infection like the avian flu. It gathers speed and lots of attention, but never really culminates in much of anything.

The last couple of years I've wished my mom was around to send me a card like she was frequent to do when I was in college. A little cardboard reminder that someone cared enough to send me the very best and cared even more to write inside it. I hate when people send cards for no discernible reason (no holiday or anything) and then just sign their name. If you thought the card was special enough to send, then take the extra 3 minutes and jot down why you sent it.

Anyway, I'm in one of those "I just want to be held and told I'm great and everything's going to be okay" kind of moods.

Does anyone else hate the Fall?

Things I Can't Blame on Being Drunk

When I was younger, even just a couple of years ago, most of my poor judgment could be blamed on inebriation. My dating faux paus were blamed on things I said while drunk or people I met while drunk. However, lately I haven't been drinking and yet my poor decisions are still around. It's actually made me a little worried.

Case in point: About four times in the last week I have spent time with or heard things about people that I had met on a separate occasion. They seemed like cool, fun, funny people who I would get along with. However, upon a second glance I realized that I was so very wrong.

One repeatedly said a cliche at moments just opportune enough to let the punchline zing. However, in most cases it just fell flat and I had to do the patented fake laugh. Usually reserved for work functions, the fake laugh is my business best friend. In this case it kind of backfired because while fake laughing, my mind drifted to something that was actually funny and the combination of the two laughs mixed to produce a fake laugh of epic proportions. This only encouraged the comment to be made several more times and my judgment to be called into question.

The second person was not so much labeled fun to hang out with as a non-threat, meaning she would not repeat things said in her general direction to people they were said about. Luckily, I had not made the mistake of trying that one out, but rather learned the lesson vicariously through someone who had been burned. Yet again, though, my ability to make a call on a person was totally off.

Three people lied and I bought it. Although in my defense one of these used a massive amount of tears which just made me uncomfortable enough to believe the lie to get them away from me.

Am I getting less astute the older I get? Is my sharp wit dulling with age and fake laughs? Am I being naive? What's the fine line between healthy skepticism and negativity? How about niceness and gullibility?

I Survived It By Closing My Eyes and Pretending I was Some Place Else

I spent most of my weekend and the better part of this week working. And not just working a little, working until 9 or 10 p.m. We all know that I don't like working past 5 unless I have to. They pay for my time, not my life. That's all mine.

Anyway, done done done for now and I'm taking Friday off to celebrate. Or perhaps I'm just taking it off to lay on my ass and catch up on all the Tivo shows that I missed this week.

When does Hurricane season end? I know its soon and I've had friends and family suffer through them, but mostly I'm just tired of seeing weathermen getting blasted with high winds for our amusement. It's not all that important to see someone fall on their ass because of the wind. It doesn't do anything to make the news better.

It's like when local news stations have 'Live' shots at locations where an important meeting was held 6 hours before. What the hell do we care if you're standing in front of the building that was monumental a long time ago? Do the story in front of the Coliseum or Liberty Bell and that logic still holds true.

Anyway, at this point the weathermen and women are just pawns in Mother Nature's and the public's sick little sadistic tryst. At least the networks are getting full use of all those "CNN" ponchos they ordered.

Speaking of weather, I think that Nor'easter has become my second favorite non-possessive word with an apostrophe. I'm not including all those people who WRONGLY do things like put apostrophes on words to separate the acronym from the "s" to pluralize it. Such as when people write that they have "DVD's for Sale." That's just wrong.

My favorite word with an apostrophe: Lil'. And I get to see it everyday on my way home when I pass a school that had a sign donated to it in memory of "Lil' Bobby Joslin." Time to go see Bobby's sign.

D-Day is approaching

The big event is happening this weekend and no, it's not a wedding. Actually, I think I would be more excited and less dreading in nature if it were a wedding. Even if it was a wedding where I had to wear a horrible bridesmaid ensemble that the bride insisted was versatile and gorgeous, and I just nodded along to make sure that I piss any one off. Usually I ended up wearing an ass-ugly dress or at least one bad accessory. The worst bridesmaids outfits I've been in have featured things like polk dots, scalloped necklines, clear plastic shoes and a train. Not all in the same outfit, but still bad on their own.

Anyway, I've got a big weekend of weird work activities and while some of them will be fun, they will all require me to not have any free time of my own, which I detest. However, this week has been full of some good times. Most notably, the season premiere of South Park. I admit that my expectations were probably too high, but I laughed and enjoyed nonetheless. In fact in celebration of South Park's return I've been singing Heat of the Moment as sung by Cartman all week.

Other than that, it's been work work work all week long with some occasional exhausted efforts to spend time with Chef. He's being great during all this. What's not being great is our shower, which 6 weeks and more than 20 calls into this process, has yet to be fixed.

How Many Years Does it Take to Get a Grown-Up's Chair?

Seriously, does anyone have an answer for this? How long do I have to work somewhere before I am entitled to have a chair that wasn't built for a midget or that comes all the way up my back?

Apparently four years is not enough.

We've had quite a few people leave here in the last couple of weeks and after the latest two left last week, I decided that enough was enough. We had spent good money on nice chairs for sales people that spent less than two hours in them every week. I am in the office 5 days a week and my chair was far more inferior.

Let's forget the fact that I'd worked here for over 4 years and asked for a new chair on several occasions. And we can forget that new chairs had been ordered 3 times for people who had worked here less than a month since the time I put in my first request. And out of those three people who received new chairs, only one is still here.

So, today when I pilfered the chair from the dearly departed's (gone, not dead) office, I got the third degree. Here are some comments I received:

1. What are you doing with that chair?
2. Is your chair broken?
3. If it's not broken, then why are you taking that chair?
4. Have you even asked to have a new chair ordered?
5. Oh, well, I'll just have to check with _______ and make sure that (appropriate pronoun for _____) doesn't want to order another one to replace the one you took.

That was just from one person. So if four is not the answer, what is? How long must my ass suffer with inferior cushioning before I can write it off as workman's comp?

Bring about Great Change in this Country

Today I was watching information about the President's approval ratings. Apparently he has dipped to his lowest levels in his presidency. So low that people have even responded to wanting a Democrat majority in the Senate.

We all knew that slow response and thousands of shots of people chanting for help outside of the Superdome were going to hit him hard. But did anyone expect that this little fact: Only 2 percent of all African-Americans approve of the job that the President is doing. It's the lowest number for any president in this demographic since the poll has been taken.

Even more disparaging is the fact that there is a great discrepancy in what people say about the reaction to Hurricane Katrina. According to the same poll, 2/3 of White Americans do not think that the response would've been different if more white families were affected. More than 60 percent of African-Americans feel the response would've been changed.

While this is interesting, it does more to shed light on the continuing battle for race relations in this country. We like to spend our time thinking we are enlightened and embrace the slogans of the Cross Color fashions: Love sees no color. Even I have to admit that I've been rather naive about it. Perhaps Kanye West was speaking for people who feel like they didn't have a voice.

On another note, President Bush is trying to better his image among African-Americans. Chef sent me this to show his broader appeal. Please note that there is sound (so don't open at work) and if you don't have a sense of humor, it might not be funny to you. Also note the President's flashing the "West Si-yed" symbol. Good times.

And lastly, the saga with the leak continues. Apparently the problem is happening (albeit on a smaller scale) to each of the apartments on the ground level of this building. I sincerely hope that they hire professional plumbers.

Better, yet busier day

I know my head from ass today because they thankfully parted ways sometime last night. For some reason the two were inseparable yesterday.

Isn't it funny that so many good things can happen in one day, yet the one you dwell on is the negative? Is that human nature or just a side effect from watching too much Curb Your Enthusiasm?

On a good note, a national newspaper listed one of my local events and used a local spokesperson. I've been getting mad props from the people on my committee that don't know what mad props means.

Hopefully this will settle down in the next two weeks.

Gin and Juice

I'm having one of those days when alcoholism seems like a fun alternative to going to work every day. Perhaps waking up in your own vomit near a dumpster 7 miles from your house with no car in sight would be a welcome change of pace from the constraints a normal life places on you. Things like deadlines, phone calls, yelling and oh, yes, a paycheck.

Or maybe I'm just exaggerating and should just grab a beer and curl up with the Gilmore Girls tonight and relieve my stress the old fashioned way. If only the batting cages were near here so that I could go take a swing at the objects of my loathing.

I really don't like the fall.

Gators, Pythons, Publicity Agents and Other Dangerous Animals

This is my biggest nightmare wrapped in the nightmare of another friend. Gators and crocodiles scare the bejeezus out of me for no real reason. I call this my irrational fear, because the likelihood of me encountering a gator in the middle of a completely land-locked state is highly unlikely.

However, my fear of being impaled by a deer's antler's while driving is substantially more reasonable for the mere fact that I actually live in an area prone to having lots of deer and that area also has forests near highways. All things in that equation add up to a trip to the body shop with deer skin implanted on your headlights. Mom always made me have deer horns on my car, but somehow they haven't made it onto Cam.

On another note, the weekend was marred by a crappy Saturday Night Live with an even crappier musical guest. I was making a comment on how it must suck for Ashlee Simpson to be the less attractive, talentless one in the family when Chef turned to me and said, "Yeah, how does it feel?"

Ahhhh, SNAP. And before you get your panties in a wad, he was KIDDING. We all love my brother, but we know he can't sing for shit.

Is anyone else tired of the "SPLIT!" that supposedly happened between Nick & Jessica? Everyone knows that the only thing the public wants to hear about in regards to couples are the following:

• Are they dating?
• Are they engaged yet?
• Did they actually make it to the alter?
• Is she pregnant?
• When are they breaking up?

When 'Newlyweds' hit the air, we already knew that three out of four of those were answered for us. So the nation watched and laughed while someone dumber than we viewed ourselves made these mistakes publicly. But of course, when I trip outside of the Olive Garden and get humiliated, no one hands me a dollar for the entertainment value. They got our money. They outsmarted us.

When they were cute and it was funny that she spent $1500 on one set of sheets, we all wondered when they were going to have kids. Now that we've realized the joke was on us (and if you saw the Variety Show or Christmas Special then you REALLY are the butt of the joke), America is pissed.

Pissed off people wish for bad things to happen and so we've moved on to "When are they breaking up?". It's natural and if Nick & Jessica were willing to play the game with their marriage on center court before this, then they should be prepared for the end results.

And the next time my ass gets glued to a toilet seat, I want everyone to pay me 50 cents before I tell the story. It's totally worth it.

I Threw Up A Little in My Mouth

In reference to Tom Cruise & Katie Holmes, Chef sent me an article this morning announcing the pregnancy of Katie. It referred to the millionaire-to-be as TomKitten. That was enough to start my day off the wrong way.

Then the maintenance saga continues. I called him this morning to finish up the job he started a couple of days ago. He left a gaping hole in my ceiling and come to find out that the leak wasn't taken care of at all. He said he'd be there at 10:00 a.m. and then never showed up. Not only that, when I called and left a message, he never returned it. I just want a ceiling without mold and leak, a toilet that doesn't run every 60 seconds and a sink that actually drains. Is that too much to ask for? HELL NO.

The only thing that made me smile was the Saturday Night Live sketch of Kanye West and Mike Myers meeting up back stage and "talking" about their stint together on the Katrina Marathon. It made me chuckle.

Dr. Cooter Cutter

Chef found me this little gem that I had to pass along. It's a urologist out of Austin, TX that specializes in vasectomies. I don't know if he's good, but I'd say he probably gets the job done.

"Dr. Richard (Dick) Chopp is well known in the Austin community for performing Vasectomies. He also enjoys treating patients with metabolic evolution of kidney stone disease, male endocrine urology disorders, prostate disease and Peyronie's disease. He has extensive laparoscopy surgery experience, is on the transplant team and performs Living Donor Nephrectomy."

That was a better find than his friend Dip's spotting of a realtor with the name Dick Balls.

Dick and fart jokes. That's where it's at.

We all know that cell phone drivers are the worst. I've tried at Chef's request to limit my cell phone usage dramatically while driving and its given me a lot of time to point out all of the other assholes that have that thing permanently glued to their ears.

Mythbusters even did a show(episode 33) about which was worse: driving drunk or while talking? It was actually about even, which is scary!

Now it's getting even worse. Instead of cell phones, let's give people a live animal to talk to. Honda just came out with a car that will accommodate such a request. I don't mind baby cat or dog talk at home, but if I see kissy faces while driving, I'll definitely become nauseated. Come one people. Is using a Pet Carrier that hard?

But I Love Smoking Monkeys

Apparently the chimp in China named Ai Ai (which is the same name as the main character on Super Monkey Ball, by the way) quit smoking after 16 years. While I'm sure the change was better for his health, I have to say that smoking monkeys make me chuckle. I guess him dying for my own amusement is selfish.

However, I don't love monkeys enough to spend 6 years of my life with them. Chef and I were watching PBS the other night and Nature was on. It was profiling the jungle and its inhabitants. One Italian researcher has been going into the jungle with the help of local tribesman every day to follow apes around and gain their trust. SIX YEARS!?!?! I really can't think of anything that fascinates me enough to isolate myself for six years to study it. Am I shallow or just normal?

On another note, let me run down this scenario for your and see what you think:

A person graduates college with an exceptional resume of community activities, work experience and a great GPA. He or she is highly recruited among others and is selected by a large organization to have a better-than-entry level position there.

However, on the first day of new staff orientation, he or she decides that they are worth more money and decide not to show up for work until they get more money. The company bargains with the candidate and they settle on something but instead of having the 4 weeks or so to learn the ropes, the candidate now has to come up with a give a huge presentation to the client in one week.

The candidate gives the presentation but the client bawks at its simplicity and ends up punching holes in it left and right. Most people would be fired, right? Not this candidate. The client leaves and instead of using it as a learning experience, the candidate blames his co-workers, the copy machine, Kinko's, and the client himself for his failure.

In what scenario would this person still have a job? I can think of at least one: the NFL. Adam ("Pacman") Jones , you suck. But I hope you keep playing for the Titans because it only helps the Colts.

My whole point is this: Why do things that seem completely unreasonable in real life seem altogether feasible and acceptable in professional sports?