How much for that Santa in the window?

Ok. So the commercialization of Christmas has been repeatedly reported, and this is another feeble attempt at another perspective. Why is it that retailers choose this time of the year to cash in on what was originally supposed to be a celebration of the birth of Jesus? (By the way, I'm also referring to the Mexican pronounciation for Jesus to not offend those who can't speak correctly). Just when did we begin to realize that we HAD to buy a tree with embedded lights in the branches, and HAD to spend $745 to keep our economy from sliding into the Iraqi gulf, and HAD to wear women's underwear when you play hockey, er, sorry wrong blog. Anyway, I propose we set aside a special time during the late spring when kids are ready for a big summer where they can freely play with their material things, and celebrate a retail boon. Think about it, we can ignore or forget about "good will toward men" during the midyear and think about greed! By the time, we come to our senses, guess what? It's that most wonderful time of the year. . . again!

By the way, anyone know where I can get a deal on the new Nokia 6256i?

Legal Opinion

I understand that the Boston Red Sox are suing Doug Mientkiewicz to recover the baseball that was used for the final out in the 2004 World Series. It seems that Mr. Mientkiewicz quietly took that baseball home with him since he was the guy who caught the ball for that third out.

Personally, I don't think the Red Sox have a legal leg to stand on. Among other things, I think the legal doctrine of "finders keepers, losers weepers" applies here. Or perhaps "possession is 9/10 of the law". Either way, Doug had the ball last and major league baseball has historically granted full discretion to the final holder of the baseball.

Take the home run for example. Has major league baseball ever gone up to the fan who caught a homer and said "give us back our baseball"? Same with the foul ball.

Perhaps one would argue that a player is not entitled to the same privileges as a fan insofar as ball possession is concerned. Poppycock, I say! (Well, I don't really ever say poppycock but it seemed like a nice aside in this instance.) There are countless times that I have witnessed a fielder make a catch for the final out of an inning and then casually toss the ball to some greedy fan in the stands. Are these players ever fined or suspended (or sued)? I don't think so. Major league baseball has therefore implicitly granted full discretion to said player with regard to the final disposition of the baseball. Just because Doug's baseball has a little more value attached to it (sentimental or otherwise), it doesn't entitle baseball to all of a sudden reverse 100 years of history and attempt to enforce some alleged "rights" that it never cared about before.

Of course, now that the Red Sox have sued, there is even greater notoriety attached to that baseball. The value to Doug is increased even more. I say if the Red Sox want that ball so bad they should by it back from Doug; at the newly inflated price. You go, Doug!

After Thanksgiving Sales

Why would a normal, sane human being subject themselves to getting up at 4:00am to get in line with hundreds and thousands of other poor, sleep deprived souls to get a "good deal"? Is it really worth the morning breath, the parking lot hassle, the rude bumps, the non-existent sales clerk who is too busy hiding from the wretched patrons, the commotion, the stress in realizing that another store may actually have a better deal, or worse, have what you need in stock when this one's out! I think not. I propose we go back to simpler times when we have a quiet cholesterol clogging, high starched meal with family members we see once every couple of years as we while away the hours with good in depth conversations of how the family cat got caught in the combine, where we learn more about Aunt Mertle's close encounter with bean salad, and how Billy Joe ended up in the slammer. . . again. I yearn for that simple life that you only can find on the Jerry Springer show. . .

Big Box Retailers

Well, I'm finally home after spending the last 93 minutes of my life at Circuit City trying to return my latest Samsung A950 cellular phone. (Note the unabashed use of brand names in an attempt to generate search hooks from interested readers). I truly believe they have a recruiting strategy to enlist low life, scum sucking, uneducated, rectum like, etc. employees to man the cell desk. This idiot must have been about 300 pounds overweight and was sweating profusely as he tried to wait on a line of three customers, and you guessed it, I was numero three. I watched in disbelief as his turtle-like motions tried in vain to punch the keys on his keyboard to sign up the first customer. Do you know how long it took to type in "William"? Five minutes (after having to backspace because he kept getting it misspelled). Trust me, I timed it. After each keystroke, he had to look over his glasses to see if the character showed up on his monitor as he expected. Amazingly, he finally made it. The customer in front of me interjected that he should just have spelled "Bill", but the clerk just ignored him. (Good thing his name wasn't Richard). Anyway, after an hour, I finally get my turn, and he finally calls me up. Unfortunately, customer number one, Bill (as I like to call him) shows up, and makes a comment to me like "you still here?" To which I was about to respond, but was rudely interrupped by our favorite clerk who asks what he needs. He immediately stops my return transaction and proceeds to cater to Bill's problem. Apparently, he somehow lost the little door that covers his charging port, and wonders if the clerk can get him another one. Great, the idiots are now breeding! Somehow between the store and his home, Bill loses the door, and expects the clerk to help him. Incredibly, the clerk apologizes to me, and goes to the back room to get him a spare one. At this point, I'm ready to take over the controls of the keyboard and give myself a few credits because the clerk just left me alone with a live terminal. Instead, I decide to be nice and start unplugging all the cell phones on display just for fun. There were at least 7 clerks now walking around, but of course, they just ignore me, because I'm at the cell phone booth which is a different world, you know. As the acne faced clerk watches me, he realizes what I'm doing for entertainment, and gives me a smile and exclaims "cool" which I obviously take as an encouraging display of support. I now disconnect the cords from every phone, and then satisfaction becomes mine. The phones begin beeping. I imagine there's some type of security alarm in the event someone's trying to walk off with one. The beeping becomes increasingly annoying to the clerks but, surprisingly, they do nothing! Well, the cell clerk comes waddling back and gives the part to Bill and gets him on his way. The clerk finally gets back to me and proceeds to complete my transaction. Meanwhile, the beeping is still going on in the background. He comments to me that "boy that's driving me crazy", and admits that it must be one of his cell phones disconnected. Thankfully, he decides to work with me rather than investigate. He's down to the last question as to why I'm returning the phone. I'm tempted to explain that I'm returning it because I HATE THIS ENTIRE EXPERIENCE AND STORE, but I catch myself and say that I have no reason. Again, he looks puzzled, and tries to see whether "no comment" is an appropriate response on his drop down menu. He seems enamored with the drop down list as if he's never been on a computer before. He finds some generic answer on the list, but lo and behold, it prompts him for another response. He takes 2.5 minutes to type "empl not nown (sic)". Trust me, I know how long 2.5 minutes is. Finally, he completes my transaction, and now I am finally out the store. I scrutinize the credit and ensure that it matches my original receipt. As I get up to leave, he hands me my phone back and puts it in another bag! I begin to walk out the store again, but uncharacteristically, I hesitate after getting up to the door, and decide to leave the bag at the customer service desk. Although it would be amusing to have taken the phone, especially after all the trouble, I just couldn't do it. I figure with idiots like him working at Circuit City, there days are numbered anyway. Now for my latest experience with Wal-Mart. . .

This is a Test

I just noticed this "Blog This" hyperlink at the top of our blog. Having now clicked on it I see that it opens up a page that apparently should be used to create a new post. It wasn't actually obvious at first but once I expanded the window, and deleted whatever text was in this space I'm currently writing in, it became much more apparent. But, as I said, this is only a test.

Mama Mia!

The Dancing Queen must be 45 by now! It seems like just yesterday she was young and sweet, only 17.

It is what it is

Is there ever a time when it is what it isn't? Or conversely, it isn't what it really is. Maybe that's when things really aren't what they seem to be. But when things really are what they seem to be, then that's when they are what they are. Or, in the singular, it is what it is.

They're Not Marshmallows!

The marshmallows in Lucky Charms have got to be the most un-marshmallow-like food items ever. I'm sure those crunchy little things in the Lucky Charms are virtually pure sugar like your run of the mill marshmallow but they don't taste like a marshmallow and they certainly aren't soft like a marshmallow. I most definitely don't want any floating around in my hot chocolate.

I think we need to be a little more racy to attract attention!

No not the Jimmie Johnson of Nascar fame type of racy, nor the Go Speed Racer either. I'm talking about plain raw sex! So, have you seen the latest National Geographic which depicts the mating habits of the portuguese dweezil?

(Please note the blatant use of brands to hopefully get snared by cheap search engines).

Are you a chair?

Why, in the interest of political correctness, have we replaced the word "chairman" not with "chairperson" but with simply "chair"? More and more I see people referred to as the "Chair" of this organization or the "Chair" of that function. It seems too concise to me.

However, in the interest of blogging, and under the presumption that the "Chair" is in charge, I offer up this additional suggested terminology to go with chair...

Table - the all knowing wise counsel; the chair is really not useful without the table.
Credenza - George, from Seinfeld.
Mat - the designated punching bag; the one who takes all the abuse.
Napkin - the one who has to clean up after everyone else.

Milk is a Cereal Killer

This is especially true with your flaked cereals (Corn Flakes, Frosted Flakes, Raisin Bran, etc.) Cheerios and Apple Jacks, on the other hand, stand up pretty well to milk. It's no wonder that "a bowl a day keeps the bullies away" with regard to Apple Jacks. Now Cracklin' Oat Bran practically requires milk to not do severe damage to the delicate tissues located throughout the mouth. And your Granola type cereals really don't give a damn about milk one way or the other.

And finally, why don't people pour chocolate milk on cereal?

Let's Go Mets!

I can't believe it will be 20 years since a Mets world championship next year. What has happened to our beloved team? Tom Glavine was our second best pitcher and he'll be 40 next year! Carlos Beltran was an all time great in the playoffs last year as an Astro - this year as a Met he was mediocre.

I think I know the missing ingredient - we need a player with a name like Mookie. How can anyone lose with a Mookie on their team? I know they've tried by getting a Kazuo and a Shingo but we really need a Mookie. Or maybe a Tug.

What's in My Fridge?

We have an all butter pound cake in our refrigerator. A Sara Lee product. But I have 2 problems with our all butter pound cake. First of all, it's not all butter. If it were all butter it would be exactly that, butter. And then the modifier "all butter" would be useless because what's the point of labeling butter as "all butter butter"?

My next issue is the pound part. Our cake weighs 10.75 ounces. Sounds to me like we were ripped off for 5.25 ounces of cake. Or was it butter that we were shorted? I can say this for certain, if I wanted to butter my toast in the morning with my "all butter" product, I'm about one pound short of being able to do it.

The New Five Blade Gillette Razor

I'm so embarassed. I actually bought into that two blades is better than one thing - but I figured that two blades was the absolute peak of shaving requirements. But then came three blades. And four blades. And now somehow we actually need five blades to shave?!

I suppose at some point there must be a limit. At a maximum I figure the number of blades should not have a combined height that exceeds the length of shavable inches on the average face. I think that would make about 50 blades.

Then there is the weight consideration. Once the razor exceeds a certain number of ounces I would assume one's dexterity would begin to diminish. There has to be a point where the benefit of extra blades is offset by the loss of agility as one struggles to move this behemoth across one's face.

And what exactly is the benefit of all those extra blades? The twin blade supposedly used the lead blade to pull a hair a little further out of the face while the second blade chopped the sucker off. Are we now to assume that the first four blades each pull that hair ever further out of the face just before number five comes along to finish the dirty deed? At some point I fear a vital organ might come peaking out with all those objects tugging on my face. God forbid that I shave one of those right off of me. That would take some kind of after shave to soothe that razor burn!

Hurricane Katrina is coming

and will be bringing some hefty waves. Afterwards, I'm sure we'll be walking on sunshine again. And don't it feel good!

We've Lost Our Audience

Or bored them to tears.

Apparently there is not a lot of demand to read through an endless series of nonsensical puns. We've barely added new posts over the last couple of months and as a consequence our readership has dwindled! Even Echotig has only posted a comment or two. And when was the last time we heard from Allen? We need to stir the pot more! I'm willing to post to our blog if Mr. Huge 2 U is willing to post comments on other blogs to generate interest. I'll even try to be interesting - or at least more interesting than this particular posting.

Can I tell you something?

You know what? There are too many catchphrases in society today. You know what I'm saying? I mean, so many things people say seem pre-fabricated. You know - been there, done that. To be honest with you, I think it's gone too far. You know what I mean?

Stop the Insanity!

It has been far too long since something new has been posted in this space as a BLOG. We have been far too preoccupied with frivolous and silly comments that only serve to extend a nonsensical string of puns well beyond the thrust of the blog to which they were attached.

More importantly, in light of our "gentleman's agreement" to only comment on the most recent 4 blogs, this will serve 2 further purposes:

1. It will end the string of St. Louis Cardinal player puns (appropriately at 70 since Mark McGwire was the last pun reference) and,
2. Mr. Huge won't have the last word that he covets so much.

As always, thanks for reading.

Am I Obsessive Compulsive?

There I was a couple of days ago in the middle of a sand trap on one of the local golf courses. Being the sportsmanlike person that I am, I grabbed the rake and smoothed out any trace of my presence in the sand so as not to disturb the next poor guy. As I carefully tended to the landscape, not only did I straighten out my own footprints, I was also taking care of some inconsiderate predecessor's as well. Consciously even, not by accident. This could only mean one thing: I'm an obsessive compulsive person (and I leap to conclusions rather quickly).

There is further evidence. At magazine racks in newstands I've been known to rearrange errant magazines so that they're back in their proper place. After all, we can't have FHM covering up the Time stack, can we? And how about the grocery store? I can't stand having the tomato paste oozing over into the tomato sauce section. And God forbid that the vanilla and butterscotch flavored Jell-O puddings should intermingle.

So there you have it, only one possible explanation - obsessive compulsive.

Or a neatnik maybe.

Are you Dodging my question?

I have been getting a substantial amount of earwax lately to the point that it's literaly falling out of my freaking ear. Hope I don't develop an Eric. Oh no, Gagne with a spoon!

Ever notice that contractors. . .

I'm working with a cement contractor and a landscaper. Fortunately, it hasn't rained too much here because I'm told that whenever it does rain, they cannot perform their work, and that further strains their schedule because of the backup of assignments. Strange, that they are so dependent on the rain forecast since the successful outcome of their "work" is essentially dependent on the rain.

I have this fixation with trash...

This being a holiday week I took the trash out one day later than I normally would. For as long as I can remember this has been the appropriate thing to do during a holiday week. This of course raises the obvious question of "how does my garbage man benefit from a holiday?".

Let's call my garbage man Tom. Tom enjoyed his Memorial Day holiday watching the Cub game on TV. On Tuesday, Tom picks up all of the garbage he would have otherwise picked up on Monday. On Wednesday, he picks up Tuesday's trash and so on through the week. So what happens at the end of the week? Does Tom pick up Friday's trash on Saturday? Would Saturday normally be a day off? If so, why not work on the holiday so Tom can enjoy his usual day off on Saturday?

Does anyone have trash day on Friday? Maybe Friday people just don't get their trash picked up at all during a holiday week. Or maybe they add a few extra houses at the end of the day each day to make up for the lost productivity at the beginning of the week. But who are those people that get added at the end of the day? And how does a customer know he's one of the "late in the same day" customers versus a "next day" customer?

Tomorrow's topic: Do I really over-analyze things?

What ever happened to Vanilla Ice?

I heard that the Ice man was going to be on some reality TV show. Amazing that he made a career off of that one song and wild personality. Only in America. Next thing we'll hear that some guy with a big 'fro who's a fight promoter will end up King.

This is Garbage!

I dragged my trash can out to the curb last night for pickup this morning. That trash can has to be at least 15 to 20 years old by now and is in fine working condition. But what if it wasn't? How would I throw it away?

Every Tuesday evening I leave the trash can and its no longer useful contents by the street. The next evening, there it is again but emptied of the family discards. This is, of course, how the world should work in suburbia. However, say I wanted to rid myself of this can once and for all. What if I wanted a new can to match the house? Do I leave the old can outside without anything thrown inside of it and hope the garbage collectors take the hint? Should I flip it upside down to signify that it died and it's time for burial? I could put it in the recycling bin but I don't think it would fit. I suppose I could leave a sign on the side along the lines of "take this trash and the can it rode in on!". However, I think if I were the trash collector, I would simply take the sign and leave the can. I think someone has to be more clever than that to rid themselves of a trash can.

Why do birds. . .

allegedly NOT leave droppings while in flight? Tell that to my neighbor who told me she got a doozie planted on her head and laundry as she was putting her clothes up on the line.

Amish Furniture

So why is Amish furniture so special? I know it's made by hand, but wouldn't you think that there are other craftmen around that could do as good a job? Also, what is wrong with a high volume production process? One would think that the quality would be consistent and of a higher grade than that of a hand made special anyway. Would you buy an overpriced car because it was hand made? Think about those cars made in 3rd world countries with cheap labor! Production Line Automation is not a bad thing especially considering the cost advantages and the fact that you'll get tired of whatever you bought in a few years anyway. BTW, anyone want to buy a "like new" Subaru?

It's Time for a New Post

Hey! How's it goin'? Guess I'm kind of at a loss for something to say, eh? Dude, get a life. This is so bogus man. What am I talkin' about anyway. Totally cool.

I'm glad you've read this far because I've clearly established there is nothing on my barren mind. Yep, I'm a desert. Not a dessert. But that brings up an interesting question, if you could be any kind of dessert what would you be?

I don't think I'd be cake. Or pie. Maybe ice cream - ice cream is cool. Ice cream with hot fudge. I'm cool but hot! And a little nuts. I guess I'm a sundae.

There you go, top that!

Happy Birthday...

to anyone who may read this post on their actual birthday. For those blog reading hobbyists who happen to pass by when it is not your birthday, please check back on that special day and this post will still be here for you! You may, of course, have to check the archives.

And for those readers whose birthday actually falls on the date of this post and in fact read it today - well, see the title above. I'm sure you're not over the hill and wasting your life away in some smoky, low rent casino in podunk, U.S.A.

Why does Zamboni make me laugh?

We have all heard of the ice surfacing machine, right? So why does the mere mention of the name bring out grins and belly aching laughs? Is it the sound as one pronouces it? Could it be the service it provides? Or is it the weird spelling? Not sure, but I do know that he's one of the best pitchers that ever took the mound. Hopefully Carlos Zamboni can keep his emotions in check before his next start.

Time for Phase 2

Enough of double entendre, innuendo and blatant pandering to the basest of the human instinct. Our heretofore fruitless (save for one much appreciated reader) attempts at generating an audience have not achieved the desired result. Puns certainly have their place in the world - or at least here on this particular blog - but we need more. Something approaching real discourse, though not necessarily rational or intelligent.

My inclination here is to suggest we solicit viewership from family, friends and co-workers. However, a quick mental read of our prior posts leads me think I'd rather start with Mr. H2O's family, friends and co-workers. I might even go so far as to suggest we offer member status to frequent or favored posters so that they are not confined to only comment. In short, we need to network this blog. Create a conblogerate, if you will.

So there you go, Mr. H, invite a friend. Or even a foe. I dare you.

Cingulair vs. Cingular

My doctor prescribed an allergy medication for me today, and for some reason the pills have a weird electronic ring, but the good news is that I stop sneezing whenever I'm on my cell phone. Perhaps, I should have monthly prescription from Cingular instead of a subscription from Cingulair, but what the hay, the comics section is funny.

Phreakin Phunny Puns

So, I see, you resorted to shameless advertising in your feeble attempt at generating interest through the new blog name. Perhaps, we should post a picture of you and call our site: human jack o'lantern? By the way, did you notice the post in the April 19 blog?

Cinco de Mayo

Today is the day we celebrate mayonnaise! Cinco must be some latin word for spread or something like that. I don't know why we don't have a special day for mustard. Or ketchup either for that matter. Of course, one doesn't spread ketchup so Cinco de Ketchup wouldn't make sense. Maybe Pouro de Ketchup! I nominate the fourth of some month (you know, pouro sounds like four-o; hey maybe the fourth of October - the "o" could be for October!)

I'm a frickin' genius!

Wal-Mart

just thought I would see if I could garner some interest by introducing a shameless plug. kind of like your lips on your bosses derriere

Over Spammed

Are you noticing an increase in SPAM ever since we joined Blogger? I had 26 messages today alone. How ironic, most of my messages relate to discount Viagra. I guess they thought I was an impotent executive.

Dirty

Caught your attention, eh? I went to the store today to purchase some top soil for the yard and realized that I also needed some manure for fertilizing the Spring plantings. Feeling pretty good that they both were on sale for 79 cents for 40 pound bags until I reached the line for checkout. As I was standing there in the midst of my fellow patrons, I started thinking how great I deal I got for dirt and a cow's bowel movement. I'm actually paying for crap and essentially nature free land in a plastic bag. THEY should be paying ME to take this garbage out of their store!

Short Blogs

Don't you just hate them? I mean, what's the point?

Unbelievable Sex Positions and Secrets!

and you thought a Marketing degree from Northwestern was a waste.

Hey You - Casual Reader!

Please comment on our blog site! We're looking for viewers. Personally I recommend the Tortoise and Hare or the How are You posts.

So if you just happen to be passing by, please comment.

Thanks.

Use Tax

I just got a letter from my local taxing body indicating that I owe a Use Tax after purchasing my new vehicle. Since I've never had to pay such a tax before, I am questioning the need to do so. Why should I have to pay for a car that I am NOT using? The car is essentially sitting in the garage while I use my other vehicle. Should I ask them for a tax rebate since my car is not being used? My other car was already purchased and USED prior to moving into this lovely midwestern city. After my property taxes doubled since moving here, I would think they would have the decency to not charge me more. What's next? A tax on income? What is this world coming to!!!

Naked Truth

I can't seem to find a blog with naked women. Perhaps, we can put naked stick people on this site?

Shopping Idea

You know Mother's Day is coming up on May 8th. If you're looking for an alternative to the ordinary flowers and candy, the Citgo station at the corner of Rand and Euclid in Mt. Prospect has a gift shop.

Any truth to the rumor that. . .

former Cubs 1st baseman and part-time model, Pete LaCock, is related to Dick Pole, former pitching coach of the Chicago Cubs? And they say nepotism is only skin deep.

The Tortoise and The Hare

With the exception of this present venue, there seems to be an effort to squeeze words out of our vocabulary. Take a look at most sets of instructions - light fixture installation, windshield washer replacement, etc. - crude drawings have replaced the written word. How far we've come as a society!

My favorite example is my lawn mower. Having treated myself to a self-propelled mower, I went the extra mile and picked up a 2-speed model. On the left side of the mower sits the throttle that controls 6.5 horses of raw power. And how is this throttle labeled? High and low? Fast and slow? Nope, it is labeled with pictures - of a rabbit and a turtle.

Now the casual observer would likely reason that rabbits run fast while turtles tend to meander at a rather slow pace. Therefore, rabbit is fast and turtle is slow, right? Well not so fast, Peter Cottontail. What about the story of the tortoise and the hare? We all know who won that race, don't we? And it wasn't the rabbit. It was the turtle!

So let us now extend that logic to the lawn mower. If I want finish mowing as fast as possible, do I trust the outward appearance of rabbits being faster or do I follow the legend of the tortoise and the hare? If I set that lever on rabbit, will I find my mower darting hither and yon across my yard, stopping to talk to the neighbor and generally focusing on everything but mowing the lawn? Conversely, if I shift the lever over to the turtle side, will I find the mower moving so painfully slow that I'll have to start mowing again as soon as I'm done just to keep up?

Two simple words could have solved this conundrum for me - fast and slow (or even high and low). Instead, these crude drawings have led me to merely contemplate - where should I set that lever?

Meanwhile, my lawn is now a foot tall.

Blog On, Blog Off

What do you think of the new template? So cool you can eat right off of it, but please use a spoon as you'll want to get every bite.

Walk in the neighborhood

I took a stroll through several blogs today, and can confidently say that there are a lot of disturbed freaks, horny adolescents, sales pitches, lonely mothers, etc. in blogland. I really don't have any problems with the horny teens or lonely mothers, but some of the bloggers are just plain scary. Whatever happened to good old fashioned people who enjoyed a little rock music in their diet and getting a little cheerleader under the stands? I mean what is happening to the world these days! Next thing you'll tell me is Britney is pregnant. Oh well, blog on!

Duck!!!

Did you realize that most violent crimes occur as a result of domestic violence? If I were you, I would sleep with one eye open. You might consider getting a kevlar vest? At least the hair on the kevlar could make you feel more like a man.

Rocket Man

I'm thinking of adopting a nickname. What do you think of "rocket"? Just imagine as I walk by the mall, and someone yells - "hey Rocket"! or "there goes the pocket rocket".

How are you?

Naturally, I don't really want to know. But that question gets asked thousands of times a day by people just like me who don't really care how the heck you really are. Which makes one wonder why we even bother to ask. Why not just stop at "hi" - or "hello" for the more formal out there. After all, what do we really do armed with the information that the person we just encountered is fine. Or good maybe. Or perhaps they'll say lousy but we know they're really being sarcastic. Of course, if we truly detect that lousy is an honest assessment of how they are, we can use that information to run as fast as we can the other way just in case they may look to us for some desperate measure of help. Yes, there is that benefit - but on the other hand, we probably never would have learned of their despair if we hadn't asked in the first place. So again, why bother?

There are those who don't inquire as to how we are but instead wonder "what's going on". This is a tricky one. The standard response of course is "not much" or "same ol' same ol'". But unlike "fine", which implies that life is generally going along as it should, what does "not much" really say about us? One could say they're fine until they're blue in the face and still feel okay about themselves. Say not much is going on for too long and maybe you'll realize you need to get a life! I think I prefer to be asked how I am.

The obligatory follow up to hello has become so ingrained in our society that I'm afraid we couldn't simply drop the practice just like that. The pregnant pause following "hi" would likely render an uncomfortable chuckle as passing greeters quickly look the other way and move on. Maybe the moment could be filled with more meaningful inquiries such as "where did you buy those pants?" or "was that your wife I saw last night at Durty Nellie's?" The possibilities are limitless. In fact, I encourage - no, dare - you to ask the next person you greet some more meaningful question. Something that tells them you really are interested in how they respond.

As for me, I'm fine.

So Britney Spears is pregnant!

Makes me think of mattresses. Did you ever wonder why mattress manufacturers/retailers come up with so many variations of product names/numbers that it is virtually impossible to compare based on names/descriptions? Wouldn't it be to their advantage to allow consumers to compare based on price? At least, they could save a lot of money instead of having all these cross-references and product tags in their inventory systems. Whoever came up with this idea should have his ass examined!

Lawn Mower

Why don't they invent other things to be self propelled? Wouldn't it be cool to have a self propelled shopping cart or a self propelled office chair? Maybe they could invent a self propelled cart so you could go to work? Perhaps, they could call it a . . . scion?

Went to Chicago this weekend

Amazing how many people don't use their turn signals! After driving around so many aggressive drivers, I became more alert and aggressive as well. I saw two near accidents that resulted from another driver who was adamant that they wouldn't let another car into their lane. I thought someone should invent something where you can push a button and both drivers would be forced to sit in a time out situation until cooler heads prevailed. By the way, who came up with that phrase? On second thought, I think they should invent cars in the shape and composition of bubbles, then we could bump into each other without incident. Of course, if you bubble gets pierced, I wouldn't want to be standing around when you let your gas out!

I went to a party with a friend of mine

He told me a woman had took his pride. Sorry, just being Petty.

Tollis Lane

This toll increase has really increased the amount of traffic in the I-Pass only lanes. I think it would be super if they set up a separate lane for the people who had an I-Pass before January 1.

They Built That City

I have to stop hitting Enter after typing the title! Hey, this is kind of title-ating.

What was Jefferson Starship supposed to have done? Was it destroy rock and roll? I think what happened is that they built San Francisco on top of it (rock and roll that is). That probably accounts for all the hills. What is a rolling hill anyway? I've never heard anyone describe the hills in San Francisco as rolling but they sure are rocking. If these hills are a rocking "Mr. Huge" is probably searching for Farrah - or re-living that first date.

Dr. P is back in town - had a short detour in K.C. Everyone I met was friendly but it sure was dark there.

This "Mr. Huge" thing - just like calling a big guy "Tiny".

Who really cares about Michael Jackasson anyway?

I'm still chasing fantasies about Farrah. Do you think she's a virgin? Do you think she cooks with virgin olive oil? Somehow I want to combine the last few thoughts. Second verse, same as the first. Hey, this is really fun. Too bad I don't have any more wisdom teeth, because I could refill my pain medication.

Is Blogging a Word?

I'm finding that this blog posting is somewhat like posing for a picture - hard to be natural when you know your being saved for posterity. Hey, where is my co-blogger anyway?