So I get this call from a robot yesterday saying that I should check my phone bill balance. Now I signed up for this phone in April so I was sort of expecting to actually receive a bill sometime before the due date so I don't have to use ESP to write them a check. So instead of calling them I figure I'll go in so I can maybe look at a bill instead of hearing a number. The guy that I talked to when I started my plan was fairly knowledgeable and had won the employee of the month like two months in a row.
Apparently it really falls off after him.
I was helped by seriously two of the least intelligent people I've ever met before.
The conversation went somewhat like this:
Me: Hey I got a phone call that there was a problem with my bill, which is strange because I haven't gotten one yet
Dumb: Let me have fifty seven pieces of information to verify your identity.
(Like I'm going to steal someone's phone and then go enquire about my billing status)
Dumb: It says here that it was due on the 16th of May, did you not get a bill?
Me: No I haven't received anything yet
Dumb: So you didn't pay because you haven't received a bill?
Me: I thought it was a better plan then coming up with a number in my head.
Dumb: Well do you live.....(my address)
Me: Yeah apartment 932
Dumb: Oh it doesn't say that here, that could be the problem
Me: Yeahhhhhhh
Dumb: Well it says that you owe $147.
Me: That seems fairly high.
Dumb: Well you owe this for the phone plan, this for texting, this for activation fees...
Me: I was told they were dropping those when I signed up
Dumb: Oh really, you also owe pro-rates for the rest of April
Me: What exactly is that?
Dumb: Well since you didn't sign up on this certain day of the month, we decided you needed to pay $1-$2 a day in April until you got to that day.
Dumb: But it says here that you owe the same amount next month....
Me: Yeah I don't think so
(By this time I am getting woozy from the abundance of stupidity, and the other employee joins her behind the counter)
Dumber: Yeah it says here that you owe $147, did you want to pay that today?
Me: I wasn't planning to pay that much
(He starts breaking down the $147 again, exactly as his counterpart just had)
Me: Philip said that he was dropping the activation fee
Dumber: When did you sign up for this?
Me: April
Dumber: Well it became company policy in May not to do that
Me: Well you have Phil call me tomorrow
(I start walking toward the door)
Dumber: You know you can check your balance on your phone.
Dumber: Have a nice day.
SLAM
On the way home I get a cell phone call saying that Dumber had called Customer Service and they thought they could drop the activation fee for me. I say "good" and hang up the phone. They call me back a minute later and say that they need the last four digits of my social security number to put that through. I have to tell him twice for him to type it correctly and finally I say "Are we done?", hes halfway through yes and I slap my phone closed immediately. Never before have I felt so much that I was just getting screwed terribly. I wont pay the bill without seeing a hard copy of the fees. Hopefully I can be persistent enough tomorrow to have them drop any late fees also. But god this is a pain in the ass.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Obama Bowling
I wasn't going to write about this weekend after last weekend's took so long to post but I have a funny story to tell.
Katie comes up today to drop C.P.'s car off at the Jag dealer to get the window fixed so I agree to go along and then drive her back to Clemson. But we get over there and the blue laws apparently clearly state that Jesus will not service Jaguars on Sunday so they were closed. So my dad, who came down this weekend to hang out with his favorite (only) son, talked about going bowling when I got back so I invite her back to come along with us. So we go to this place and it is seriously the smallest bowling alley I've ever seen, next to Clemson's. Twelve lanes and they are real wood and barely have automatic scoring. So we're bowling and really bowling terrible. The ball breaks all over the place and my usual strategy of using the heaviest ball I can and throwing it at the middle of the pins is working terribly. We get to the second game and we're talking about how Obama bowled a 38 when he was trying to look like the common man. Katie is really struggling, but we're joking around and having a fun time, but she ends up throwing a 27. She's super frustrated but we're doing our best to give her some tips on what she could try. My dad is a fairly good bowler, and apparently his tips were really helping as we started the third game. Katie is on fire and I am trailing early. I don't have a problem with a girl beating me but it would sorta be embarrassing a little to have someone who just threw a 27, come back and kick your ass the next game. So we get through 9 frames and I'm losing by 2 pins. 10th frame for all the marbles. I'm up first. As I get up to bowl, Katie leans in and whispers, "Just so you know, I don't even like jelly" I get my usual smirk on my face and step up to take my turn.
Strike!
I walk back to the chairs and Katie is yelling "Where did that come from?", to which I respond "GET THE JELLY"(leaving out twat, because Katie is not a twat and this was a family bowling establishment). I follow it up with a spare and Katie is laughing too hard to really concentrate on bowling and I end up beating her by a dozen pins. Fun times.
Katie comes up today to drop C.P.'s car off at the Jag dealer to get the window fixed so I agree to go along and then drive her back to Clemson. But we get over there and the blue laws apparently clearly state that Jesus will not service Jaguars on Sunday so they were closed. So my dad, who came down this weekend to hang out with his favorite (only) son, talked about going bowling when I got back so I invite her back to come along with us. So we go to this place and it is seriously the smallest bowling alley I've ever seen, next to Clemson's. Twelve lanes and they are real wood and barely have automatic scoring. So we're bowling and really bowling terrible. The ball breaks all over the place and my usual strategy of using the heaviest ball I can and throwing it at the middle of the pins is working terribly. We get to the second game and we're talking about how Obama bowled a 38 when he was trying to look like the common man. Katie is really struggling, but we're joking around and having a fun time, but she ends up throwing a 27. She's super frustrated but we're doing our best to give her some tips on what she could try. My dad is a fairly good bowler, and apparently his tips were really helping as we started the third game. Katie is on fire and I am trailing early. I don't have a problem with a girl beating me but it would sorta be embarrassing a little to have someone who just threw a 27, come back and kick your ass the next game. So we get through 9 frames and I'm losing by 2 pins. 10th frame for all the marbles. I'm up first. As I get up to bowl, Katie leans in and whispers, "Just so you know, I don't even like jelly" I get my usual smirk on my face and step up to take my turn.
Strike!
I walk back to the chairs and Katie is yelling "Where did that come from?", to which I respond "GET THE JELLY"(leaving out twat, because Katie is not a twat and this was a family bowling establishment). I follow it up with a spare and Katie is laughing too hard to really concentrate on bowling and I end up beating her by a dozen pins. Fun times.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Irish People and the Sun: Chapter 3
I awake to whispers (apparently I'm a cute sleeper) at a time far too early for a Sunday. D.P. and Mystery Girl have awoken slightly to the emergence of Attractive Girl from her room. They soon fall back to sleep on the couch and Attractive Girl plops down in front of me, looking no less fantastic than the night before, but slightly shivering despite having long pajama pants and a long sleeved tshirt on. She has her computer out and shes cruising through the usual time wasting sites and British news sites. I find out that she is super intelligent and well informed with the going ons of the world and I chat with her over a cup of some fruit juice. I ask if she wants to get some breakfast but remember that neither of us have a car there, and stealing D.P.'s to drive stick poorly seemed like a recipe for death. So we wait for everyone to wake up.
Noon rolls around and we all get ready and head to California Pizza for lunch. We stop to get Attractive Girl's car and D.P. starts giving me verbal and non verbal cues to ride along with her, like I'm going to charm her riding in the car. It didn't bother me because like I said above, she was a really cool chick and nice to talk to. Anyway the weather seems really bad so I suggest some mini golf afterwords. However after emerging from the pizza place, we realize that the weather prediction didn't hold up and we change our mind again for the beach. So D.P., Mystery, Attractive Girl and myself hop in the car and head down to the beach. I was already fairly red from Saturday afternoon's pool adventure and nobody seemed to have remembered any sunscreen. As a person who a majority of his heritage comes from Great Britain's various nations, I don't tan. I go from white to red, then red to white. If I use sunscreen I don't change color at all, and if I don't.......
We get to the beach and put our stuff down and head to the water. Attractive Girl was razzing me on the way up that I couldn't say that the water was cold because she is always cold and didn't think the water was cold the last time she was there. But the water was damn cold. The long trudge through the surf to deeper water was fairly terrible. But once you got to deeper water and got numb you were golden. The four of us were having a fun time splashing around when D.P. suggests that we chicken fight in the water. Apparently another attempt at increasing my chances with Attractive Girl. What he didn't realize however was that I have bad knees and balancing with a girl that is maybe 5'9, 5'10 sitting on my shoulders in shifting sand wasn't exactly super easy. I get her up and her and Mystery go at it and I'm sorta hoping that Attractive's advantage in upper body strength can make it a quick battle and push Mystery off of D.P.'s shoulders fairly quickly so I don't look lame. However D.P. works out much more than I do and had the vice grip on Mystery's legs so they weren't going anywhere. Slowly I feel myself fading into the surf until we finally lose horribly. Oh well. After that we all headed into the beach to bake. I could feel the sun roasting my flesh as I sat there. But it was also incredibly relaxing to just look into the ocean. So I did until everyone was ready to go. We stop by Attractive's place to clean up and head home, where I then noticed my laughably bad sunburn, which got me teased relentlessly all week by my coworkers. But here it is a week later and I'm practically all white again. But at least it was a darn good weekend, I had a blast.
Noon rolls around and we all get ready and head to California Pizza for lunch. We stop to get Attractive Girl's car and D.P. starts giving me verbal and non verbal cues to ride along with her, like I'm going to charm her riding in the car. It didn't bother me because like I said above, she was a really cool chick and nice to talk to. Anyway the weather seems really bad so I suggest some mini golf afterwords. However after emerging from the pizza place, we realize that the weather prediction didn't hold up and we change our mind again for the beach. So D.P., Mystery, Attractive Girl and myself hop in the car and head down to the beach. I was already fairly red from Saturday afternoon's pool adventure and nobody seemed to have remembered any sunscreen. As a person who a majority of his heritage comes from Great Britain's various nations, I don't tan. I go from white to red, then red to white. If I use sunscreen I don't change color at all, and if I don't.......
We get to the beach and put our stuff down and head to the water. Attractive Girl was razzing me on the way up that I couldn't say that the water was cold because she is always cold and didn't think the water was cold the last time she was there. But the water was damn cold. The long trudge through the surf to deeper water was fairly terrible. But once you got to deeper water and got numb you were golden. The four of us were having a fun time splashing around when D.P. suggests that we chicken fight in the water. Apparently another attempt at increasing my chances with Attractive Girl. What he didn't realize however was that I have bad knees and balancing with a girl that is maybe 5'9, 5'10 sitting on my shoulders in shifting sand wasn't exactly super easy. I get her up and her and Mystery go at it and I'm sorta hoping that Attractive's advantage in upper body strength can make it a quick battle and push Mystery off of D.P.'s shoulders fairly quickly so I don't look lame. However D.P. works out much more than I do and had the vice grip on Mystery's legs so they weren't going anywhere. Slowly I feel myself fading into the surf until we finally lose horribly. Oh well. After that we all headed into the beach to bake. I could feel the sun roasting my flesh as I sat there. But it was also incredibly relaxing to just look into the ocean. So I did until everyone was ready to go. We stop by Attractive's place to clean up and head home, where I then noticed my laughably bad sunburn, which got me teased relentlessly all week by my coworkers. But here it is a week later and I'm practically all white again. But at least it was a darn good weekend, I had a blast.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Irish People and the Sun- Chapter 2
The next day I awoke fairly early for a Saturday and played some more Wii until D.P. rolled out of bed and was able to semi function. He had told me that his plan was to go to the beach for some party and it was my intention to change his mind into staying in Cola for the night, since Saturday's in Cola always seem to end up being the crazier of the two nights. He felt like crap but got a kick out of the stories I had of the night before, many of which he didn't remember occurring. I put my plan into action, suggesting we get lunch at Tokyo Grill and chill at the pool all day until it was time to go back downtown. He seemed to agree to the idea and we set off for lunch while he started texting seemingly everyone he knew to see what they were up to.
Tokyo Grill in Columbia is the most emo Chinese restaurant I've ever been too. They seem to only hire high school age emo kids who look like they're a chicken bowl away from ending it. I joked to D.P that they saved money this way by making it so emo that the meat and vegetables cut themselves. By the end of the meal it seemed to be all but decided that we were going to stay in Columbia so we headed back to go to the pool.
The pool in D.P.'s development was surrounded by hot women sunning themselves. With the exception of a few kids in the shallow end, the modest sized pool was vacant. This didn't stop me from bounding on in before realizing that the water temperature was cold enough to shoot my balls up to my my throat. I quickly exited the pool voicing how bad an idea it was. So I went to sunning with the ladies on a lounge chair. As I was laying there D.P. got more and more texts but didn't say anything. After an hour or so, without sunscreen, we decided it was time to go. Then out of nowhere D.P. asks if I would go along to the beach. Not just asks if I would be down for the idea, but basically telling me that he's going with or without me. I like the beach just fine, I wish I could live there, but its a long way to drive for one night, then I would be getting back to my place super late on Sunday. This made me really apprehensive to say yes. But after a shower and some texting I figure, what he hell, nothing great would happen if I went home. So we get ready and head out, stopping to get Mystery Girl, who informs us that she has told her boyfriend that she wants to take a break and see other people, which is good news, but she still seemed really torn up over it. What exactly does "taking a break" mean? I mean its not like people who say that have a set time table that they're going to be semi-single and then things go back to normal, and also "see other people" basically means "I'm seeing someone else already, it would be cool if I could see less of you". But anyway it seemed like a good step in the right direction for my buddy D.P.
So we drive forever and make it just in time for the Pelican's baseball game. Apparently at the Pelican's stadium, which has appeared out of no where since the last time I've been to the beach, they have a special section called the beach. In this section down the third base line they have made this sandy area with lines of really nice beach chairs. So for eight bucks or so you can sit in the lounge chair section (private bar) and watch the game. After the sun went behind the stadium it was a fairly good interesting game, even though I think I was the only one of the group that was paying attention. The attractive blond sitting beside me started chatting me up half way through the game, and while she didn't have a clue what was going on in the game, it was still nice to chat with her.
After the game the group headed across the street to Broadway and went to (be still my beating heart) Liberty Tap Room. Happily this Liberty was huge and the bar area was empty so we got to hang out there and drink a beer in relative comfort. One of my best friends Mikkel, happened to show up there also and I got to catch up with him a little and find out that our old friend who had never drunk before in his life was actually quite the bad drunk. He has apparently abandoned his newly acquired Mormon ways and has now given alcohol a try. This definitely makes me want to return to the beach sometime and see this anomaly in action. After the slowpoke drinkers were finished, we decided to head somewhere else.
Everyone seemed to really want to go to this martini bar in Broadway. I was less than pleased because I don't drink martini's, don't like olives, and would probably be overcharged for anything else I ordered, but followed faithfully along. On weekends I'm a huge follower, it makes things much easier and usually more fun if you go with the flow. So we're walking along and all of a sudden the person leading us ducks into this Irish Pub. I have Attractive Blond in front of me and we both give questioning looks at each other with our doubts that this bar would even know what a martini was, let alone have a bar dedicated to them. We pass by a rock concert going on with bikers surrounding it (it was bike week at Myrtle Beach) and I'm just about to ask our fearless leader if he knows where we're going when all of a sudden we duck around a corner and are staring directly at a set of stairs with a neon "Martini Bar" sign over them.
The Martini Bar reminded me of what I would picture a club in hell looking like. The walls were all an interesting red color, the lights were strange colors from displays on the walls of unusually shaped statues with the glow of colored light bathing their abstractness. But did they ever have martini's. Books of them, from dirty to martinis with half and half and chocolate syrup in them. So what did I choose? A Bud Light. I was made fun of by my peers but informed them that I had ordered the famous Bud-tini, which everyone got a kick out of. Sometimes I'm witty like that. I stood drinking my beer while I tried to check out Attractive Girl while at the same time ignoring D.P. and Mystery Girl's latest make out session. Finally we found room on a couch in the corner of the bar and all sat down and chit chatted and drank for a while. I switched from beer to mixed drinks after a little, which seemed to please the martini sipping group. I even tried some of a dirty martini which surprisingly was like drinking sea water. After a while we decided it was time to bounce to another bar.
So we headed to Senior Frogs. Senior Frogs seems like the bar in Myrtle Beach that they said "Let's gear a bar towards underage people, and act like we didn't try it" They have cartoon frogs on the walls, a huge dance floor, multiple bars and even hand signals for some of the drinks. Of course D.P and Mystery Girl wanted to go there to "dance" and apparently Attractive Girl and Bono were down with that idea as well, only in the more traditional definition of dancing. For a while I sorta danced then lost my nerve and retreated to the bar. On one trip I had a semi-hilarious run in with a random girl who asked for a shot of Tejuilla. I think to myself, why the heck not, so I start to order her the shot. In the middle of me trying to get the bartender's attention D.P. comes up and smashes me and Random Girl together and starts us sorta dancing. He leaves and we stop almost immediately and go back to ordering drinks. I get a couple beers and her shot, which she now somehow thinks is Vodka, and basically hand her the shot and leave. I hand out beers and go back to admiring the unbelievable hip action on Attractive Girl. I get almost done with my beer when Mystery Girl comes up to me and gets me to start dancing with her where she whispers that Attractive Girl really wonders what shes doing wrong that I'm not dancing with her. With suddenly renewed confidence I make a B-line across the dance floor and dance like I've never danced before. Bono on one side of Attractive Girl and me on the other. We dance like crazy for a couple hours, in which at one point Bono for some reason kept touching my shoulder while I was dancing and actually challenged a group of black kids to a dancing contest, which they declined. 2:00 rolled around and we all piled out to go home.
We had originally planned to go to someone's house to crash, but him and his girlfriend got far too drunk at the martini bar and headed home a while ago, so we figured we needed somewhere else to crash. Attractive Girl volunteered her place and we headed off toward the apartment. When we arrived she realized that she didn't have her keys and several knocks on the door weren't rousing her roommate from 2:30am sleep. So I get the idea to climb on the railing to the first floor apartment and try to pull myself up to their second floor balcony, because honestly who locks the balcony door. I don't really have the arm strength or coordination to make my way up there and was about to give up when Attractive Girl climbed up with me and I boosted her up onto the balcony.
Re-Written to Please the Blog Reading Gods: Of course the balcony door was securely locked, but Attractive Girl's new found proximity to her roommate finds success and shock from her roommate when she opens the door. Upon entering I get the short straw and miss out on cuddling on up to Attractive Girl and spend an uncomfortable night fitting my six foot, arthritic kneed frame onto a love seat. A long and interesting day.
Tokyo Grill in Columbia is the most emo Chinese restaurant I've ever been too. They seem to only hire high school age emo kids who look like they're a chicken bowl away from ending it. I joked to D.P that they saved money this way by making it so emo that the meat and vegetables cut themselves. By the end of the meal it seemed to be all but decided that we were going to stay in Columbia so we headed back to go to the pool.
The pool in D.P.'s development was surrounded by hot women sunning themselves. With the exception of a few kids in the shallow end, the modest sized pool was vacant. This didn't stop me from bounding on in before realizing that the water temperature was cold enough to shoot my balls up to my my throat. I quickly exited the pool voicing how bad an idea it was. So I went to sunning with the ladies on a lounge chair. As I was laying there D.P. got more and more texts but didn't say anything. After an hour or so, without sunscreen, we decided it was time to go. Then out of nowhere D.P. asks if I would go along to the beach. Not just asks if I would be down for the idea, but basically telling me that he's going with or without me. I like the beach just fine, I wish I could live there, but its a long way to drive for one night, then I would be getting back to my place super late on Sunday. This made me really apprehensive to say yes. But after a shower and some texting I figure, what he hell, nothing great would happen if I went home. So we get ready and head out, stopping to get Mystery Girl, who informs us that she has told her boyfriend that she wants to take a break and see other people, which is good news, but she still seemed really torn up over it. What exactly does "taking a break" mean? I mean its not like people who say that have a set time table that they're going to be semi-single and then things go back to normal, and also "see other people" basically means "I'm seeing someone else already, it would be cool if I could see less of you". But anyway it seemed like a good step in the right direction for my buddy D.P.
So we drive forever and make it just in time for the Pelican's baseball game. Apparently at the Pelican's stadium, which has appeared out of no where since the last time I've been to the beach, they have a special section called the beach. In this section down the third base line they have made this sandy area with lines of really nice beach chairs. So for eight bucks or so you can sit in the lounge chair section (private bar) and watch the game. After the sun went behind the stadium it was a fairly good interesting game, even though I think I was the only one of the group that was paying attention. The attractive blond sitting beside me started chatting me up half way through the game, and while she didn't have a clue what was going on in the game, it was still nice to chat with her.
After the game the group headed across the street to Broadway and went to (be still my beating heart) Liberty Tap Room. Happily this Liberty was huge and the bar area was empty so we got to hang out there and drink a beer in relative comfort. One of my best friends Mikkel, happened to show up there also and I got to catch up with him a little and find out that our old friend who had never drunk before in his life was actually quite the bad drunk. He has apparently abandoned his newly acquired Mormon ways and has now given alcohol a try. This definitely makes me want to return to the beach sometime and see this anomaly in action. After the slowpoke drinkers were finished, we decided to head somewhere else.
Everyone seemed to really want to go to this martini bar in Broadway. I was less than pleased because I don't drink martini's, don't like olives, and would probably be overcharged for anything else I ordered, but followed faithfully along. On weekends I'm a huge follower, it makes things much easier and usually more fun if you go with the flow. So we're walking along and all of a sudden the person leading us ducks into this Irish Pub. I have Attractive Blond in front of me and we both give questioning looks at each other with our doubts that this bar would even know what a martini was, let alone have a bar dedicated to them. We pass by a rock concert going on with bikers surrounding it (it was bike week at Myrtle Beach) and I'm just about to ask our fearless leader if he knows where we're going when all of a sudden we duck around a corner and are staring directly at a set of stairs with a neon "Martini Bar" sign over them.
The Martini Bar reminded me of what I would picture a club in hell looking like. The walls were all an interesting red color, the lights were strange colors from displays on the walls of unusually shaped statues with the glow of colored light bathing their abstractness. But did they ever have martini's. Books of them, from dirty to martinis with half and half and chocolate syrup in them. So what did I choose? A Bud Light. I was made fun of by my peers but informed them that I had ordered the famous Bud-tini, which everyone got a kick out of. Sometimes I'm witty like that. I stood drinking my beer while I tried to check out Attractive Girl while at the same time ignoring D.P. and Mystery Girl's latest make out session. Finally we found room on a couch in the corner of the bar and all sat down and chit chatted and drank for a while. I switched from beer to mixed drinks after a little, which seemed to please the martini sipping group. I even tried some of a dirty martini which surprisingly was like drinking sea water. After a while we decided it was time to bounce to another bar.
So we headed to Senior Frogs. Senior Frogs seems like the bar in Myrtle Beach that they said "Let's gear a bar towards underage people, and act like we didn't try it" They have cartoon frogs on the walls, a huge dance floor, multiple bars and even hand signals for some of the drinks. Of course D.P and Mystery Girl wanted to go there to "dance" and apparently Attractive Girl and Bono were down with that idea as well, only in the more traditional definition of dancing. For a while I sorta danced then lost my nerve and retreated to the bar. On one trip I had a semi-hilarious run in with a random girl who asked for a shot of Tejuilla. I think to myself, why the heck not, so I start to order her the shot. In the middle of me trying to get the bartender's attention D.P. comes up and smashes me and Random Girl together and starts us sorta dancing. He leaves and we stop almost immediately and go back to ordering drinks. I get a couple beers and her shot, which she now somehow thinks is Vodka, and basically hand her the shot and leave. I hand out beers and go back to admiring the unbelievable hip action on Attractive Girl. I get almost done with my beer when Mystery Girl comes up to me and gets me to start dancing with her where she whispers that Attractive Girl really wonders what shes doing wrong that I'm not dancing with her. With suddenly renewed confidence I make a B-line across the dance floor and dance like I've never danced before. Bono on one side of Attractive Girl and me on the other. We dance like crazy for a couple hours, in which at one point Bono for some reason kept touching my shoulder while I was dancing and actually challenged a group of black kids to a dancing contest, which they declined. 2:00 rolled around and we all piled out to go home.
We had originally planned to go to someone's house to crash, but him and his girlfriend got far too drunk at the martini bar and headed home a while ago, so we figured we needed somewhere else to crash. Attractive Girl volunteered her place and we headed off toward the apartment. When we arrived she realized that she didn't have her keys and several knocks on the door weren't rousing her roommate from 2:30am sleep. So I get the idea to climb on the railing to the first floor apartment and try to pull myself up to their second floor balcony, because honestly who locks the balcony door. I don't really have the arm strength or coordination to make my way up there and was about to give up when Attractive Girl climbed up with me and I boosted her up onto the balcony.
Re-Written to Please the Blog Reading Gods: Of course the balcony door was securely locked, but Attractive Girl's new found proximity to her roommate finds success and shock from her roommate when she opens the door. Upon entering I get the short straw and miss out on cuddling on up to Attractive Girl and spend an uncomfortable night fitting my six foot, arthritic kneed frame onto a love seat. A long and interesting day.To be continued....day 3
Monday, May 19, 2008
Irish People and the Sun: A Cautionary Tale
So this weekend I anti-planned my way to Columbia on Friday with the intent to make it an epic weekend. I always intend for every weekend I have, no matter where I am or who I'm with, for it to be an awesome time for everyone. So I head over Friday afternoon and call D.P. as I'm getting close and he says to give him another call when I'm even closer. I think that its sorta strange since I just said that I'm only ten to fifteen minutes away and drive on into Lexington to his apartment and knock once and then let myself in the unlocked door when no one answers. I don't see anyone around but hear murmurs from D.P.'s room. So I knock on his door and I get a friendly "Make yourself at home," and hear a feminine giggle. Oh great, interrupted business time for D.P. and his new girl. I switch on the Wii and start playing some Mario Cart, I win my first race (the game is somewhat easy) and out of D.P.'s room comes D.P and Mystery Girl. Mystery Girl looks very familiar but insists that she has never met me (it turned out she had back around St. Patrick's Day). Her and D.P. are fairly intoxicated and are all over each other on the couch next to me. D.P. senses the awkwardness of the situation and has Mystery Girl straddle my lap, which is somewhat hilarious because she sat there for the next fifteen minutes while we all chatted, like nothing was out of the ordinary. Finally they decide to shower and we head out to drop Mystery Girl off at her car and then go downtown. Apparently she has a long time boyfriend and so her and D.P. are trying to keep it secret until she makes the move to get out of the house and find a place of her own. The funny part however is that they are incredibly bad at coming up with stories to explain where she's been and why she has hickey's and wet hair from the shower. Mystery Girl claims that the hickey, on her nipple, was explained away as being caused by playing with her dog topless. And her boyfriend actually bought it. Now she is going home with wet hair and comes up with a story that both her and D.P. agree is a good plan:
"I had a shower and then went to get a donut"
When she said this I must have had a look on my face that was absolutely priceless. I responded that it was perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever heard and suggested she skip going home now and call her boyfriend that she went downtown to hang out with her friends, or anything else that any person with half a brain would believe. Now I am very against cheating and lying to a significant other, even if you are unhappy and your partner is dumb as a brick. But they insisted this plan would work and off she went and we headed down to surprise surprise, the Saucer. We meet up with Paul and get a table outside by the door. Two guys join us and I am informed they are a gay couple. I have no problem with gay guys as long as they don't try anything, which they don't, so they're generally nice guys to hang out with. Mystery Girl, after successfully duping her boyfriend and slipping out again, joins us at the table along with another guy, who I'm informed is also at least bi, if not full on gay. Would have never known, met him before, funny guy, no problem. So I'm sitting there with four gay guys and D.P. and Mystery girl, who are doing about as close to openly making out as you can. Finally Jennifer shows up, which was good because I had really been hoping to see her again during my visit and everyone is chatting and drinking and having a good time. Jennifer shows off her back tattoos that I had seen the last time I was there but she doesn't seem to remember. D.P. and Mystery Girl disappear from the table for a little while and finally return a little later informing us that they just got a small ovation after emerging from the Men's bathroom together. Mystery Girl is somewhat embarrassed about the whole ordeal but we continue drinking and talking and having a good time. Then they disappear again and this time return saying that the owner of the bar reprimanded them for being in the Men's bathroom again, which D.P. claims was to clean spilled beer off Mystery Girl's pants. He also informs us that its probably time to go to another bar. So we pay and head across the street to Liberty.
I really don't like Liberty, I don't know if I mentioned it before but they build Liberty Tap Room's in such a way that there is no room to sit or stand or do anything, and they have a dance floor taking up a quarter of the inside area. It is an ordeal to get any drinks and I end up spilling a little on the two girls at the bar that I reach across to grab the glasses from the bartender. D.P. and Mystery Girl wanted to go to this bar because they wanted to dance, or more accurately, walk to the middle of the dance floor and start making out. So I sit down with my table full of gay guys and scope the place out for women. Jennifer had to leave to go to some concert which she tells us will probably not be good, but her friends are playing so she has to go. I eventually get drug to the dance floor by Mystery Girl who for some reason really wanted to dance with me. By this time I am semi-sober and really not feeling like dancing. but I kinda fake it for a couple minutes doing my usual grab the hips and move around a little bit dance method that seems to work alright. Finally D.P wandered onto the dance floor and I was able to switch out by replacing myself with him. After we all got back to the table I entertained myself by putting as many sugar packets as i could into Mystery Girl's purse while she wasn't looking. D.P. ends up spilling his almost full Guinness on us and the three of us are pretty much covered in Guinness and we decide its time to go.
After a white knuckle drive back to D.P.'s (I can't drive his car), we get there in one piece. Mystery Girl is drunk and complaining that she wants to go home. Bryan is informing her that he won't drive her home. I say that I could, but the argument continues and I decide to step outside and text Jennifer and let them sort it out. Everything settled down by the time I got back and while I was getting myself some water I decided it would be nice to get my drunk friends a couple glasses as well. They seemed to appreciate it up until the point when Mystery Girl tried to drink and poured the entire glass of water on her face, drenching both of them and the couch I had planned to sleep on. Everyone goes to bed, I stretch out on the floor and drift off into a back wrenching night's sleep.
And this is just the beginning..... to be continued......
"I had a shower and then went to get a donut"
When she said this I must have had a look on my face that was absolutely priceless. I responded that it was perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever heard and suggested she skip going home now and call her boyfriend that she went downtown to hang out with her friends, or anything else that any person with half a brain would believe. Now I am very against cheating and lying to a significant other, even if you are unhappy and your partner is dumb as a brick. But they insisted this plan would work and off she went and we headed down to surprise surprise, the Saucer. We meet up with Paul and get a table outside by the door. Two guys join us and I am informed they are a gay couple. I have no problem with gay guys as long as they don't try anything, which they don't, so they're generally nice guys to hang out with. Mystery Girl, after successfully duping her boyfriend and slipping out again, joins us at the table along with another guy, who I'm informed is also at least bi, if not full on gay. Would have never known, met him before, funny guy, no problem. So I'm sitting there with four gay guys and D.P. and Mystery girl, who are doing about as close to openly making out as you can. Finally Jennifer shows up, which was good because I had really been hoping to see her again during my visit and everyone is chatting and drinking and having a good time. Jennifer shows off her back tattoos that I had seen the last time I was there but she doesn't seem to remember. D.P. and Mystery Girl disappear from the table for a little while and finally return a little later informing us that they just got a small ovation after emerging from the Men's bathroom together. Mystery Girl is somewhat embarrassed about the whole ordeal but we continue drinking and talking and having a good time. Then they disappear again and this time return saying that the owner of the bar reprimanded them for being in the Men's bathroom again, which D.P. claims was to clean spilled beer off Mystery Girl's pants. He also informs us that its probably time to go to another bar. So we pay and head across the street to Liberty.
I really don't like Liberty, I don't know if I mentioned it before but they build Liberty Tap Room's in such a way that there is no room to sit or stand or do anything, and they have a dance floor taking up a quarter of the inside area. It is an ordeal to get any drinks and I end up spilling a little on the two girls at the bar that I reach across to grab the glasses from the bartender. D.P. and Mystery Girl wanted to go to this bar because they wanted to dance, or more accurately, walk to the middle of the dance floor and start making out. So I sit down with my table full of gay guys and scope the place out for women. Jennifer had to leave to go to some concert which she tells us will probably not be good, but her friends are playing so she has to go. I eventually get drug to the dance floor by Mystery Girl who for some reason really wanted to dance with me. By this time I am semi-sober and really not feeling like dancing. but I kinda fake it for a couple minutes doing my usual grab the hips and move around a little bit dance method that seems to work alright. Finally D.P wandered onto the dance floor and I was able to switch out by replacing myself with him. After we all got back to the table I entertained myself by putting as many sugar packets as i could into Mystery Girl's purse while she wasn't looking. D.P. ends up spilling his almost full Guinness on us and the three of us are pretty much covered in Guinness and we decide its time to go.
After a white knuckle drive back to D.P.'s (I can't drive his car), we get there in one piece. Mystery Girl is drunk and complaining that she wants to go home. Bryan is informing her that he won't drive her home. I say that I could, but the argument continues and I decide to step outside and text Jennifer and let them sort it out. Everything settled down by the time I got back and while I was getting myself some water I decided it would be nice to get my drunk friends a couple glasses as well. They seemed to appreciate it up until the point when Mystery Girl tried to drink and poured the entire glass of water on her face, drenching both of them and the couch I had planned to sleep on. Everyone goes to bed, I stretch out on the floor and drift off into a back wrenching night's sleep.
And this is just the beginning..... to be continued......
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Epic Weekend
I will definitely have to write all about it tomorrow, another Columbia weekend with a spill over into Myrtle Beach. But I just got home at 10pm on Sunday so I don't have the time at the moment, but to wet your whistle a few key words if you will:
Shower and a Donut
Bud-tini
Hickey Causing Dogs
Co-ed Bathroom Issues
Oceanic Chicken Fighting
Check back tomorrow afternoon and I should have a big ass write up
Shower and a Donut
Bud-tini
Hickey Causing Dogs
Co-ed Bathroom Issues
Oceanic Chicken Fighting
Check back tomorrow afternoon and I should have a big ass write up
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Clumsy People Shouldn't Be On Ladders
So today I went out to put up some signs and decided I was going to climb up on this concrete block about six feet off the ground to get a more solid platform while I drilled into the bricks with Rambo's drill (this thing is massive, like a jackhammer with a grip that comes out of the one side, scary stuff). So I get done drilling, and start looking around for my coworker that came along with me to hand me the sign so I could fit it in the holes to make sure they're placed well. But I don't see him anywhere so I lean down and put the drill on the cement and stand back up and back up to get ready to get down and get the sign, when I overestimate the length of the platform. I get this weird feeling through my body, the total lack of control and the loss of balance as I become air born. I fly backwards and into the large bush behind me, somehow managing to land on my feet. I hear my coworker yell "What the hell did you just do?" and I just start laughing. Not hurt at all except for a couple scratches on my arms that I'm not even sure are from that particular incident. But a bunch of people got a good laugh including myself over my clumsiness.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Secrets to Hamburger Helper
While in itself, Hamburger, Chicken or Tuna Helper is a tasty easy dish to prepare for that special evening when you're at home, alone, without any plans of any kind. While I'm a big supporter of making this delicious product as instructed (in addition to butchering comma usage) I have come up with a few tips to improving this delicacy to turn that special dinner into a downright magical evening.
1) Always use hot sauce: It doesn't matter if you're cooking the chicken and noodles Alfredo or the "Stroganoff", a little hot sauce really goes a long long way to bringing out the dormant flavors of the packet of spices. Also if you have McCormick seasonings I recommend picking one at random and hitting it until you say to yourself "Damn that could be too much seasoning". It never is and it takes your meal from the conservative crowd pleaser that they package to something to write home about and claim that you made from scratch.
2) Use ground turkey: While for some reason it smells like eggs when you're browning it, ground turkey is definitely the way to go in Hamburger Helper. With it being much leaner than beef hamburger, using the turkey doesn't change the taste of the finished product (especially if its properly seasoned as instructed in step one). It's also usually much cheaper in the grocery store, which is always nice. Also soy milk works fine for all you lactose free hellions out there.
3) Can and a plan: You can also increase the nutritional value of the dish by choosing a can of vegetables and adding it to the dish right before simmering. Often kidney beans, peas, corn or Lima beans compliment the dish well. You just have to do a little soul searching to decide which can will kick your variety of Helper to the next level. Not only are you increasing the nutritional value at least by 10, you do so without dirtying a separate pot to cook the side.
4) The box lies: In my experience, if you make the dish to the specifications on the box, you will end up with some really soupy shit. So with each of the wet ingredients, bump the amount of liquid down a quarter to half a cup. Its still plenty to properly cook the ingredients but without the pool of sauce. You will need to experiment with different varieties to decide which need more de-moistification. The one that apparently comes with Fritos is still a soupy thorn in my side.
5) Always better later: The good thing about making a Helper by yourself is that there is plenty for another meal. I usually have the leftovers for lunch the next day and they are 9 out of 10 times even better than they were the night before. When a Helper is left to its own devices, it thickens up, so the next day even the soupiest Helper has become a hearty Tupperware dish of deliciousness. I don't have all the scientific evidence in yet, but I'm pretty sure that if left in the fridge, it never goes bad. So don't throw out those leftovers, save them for another day.
I hope you have all enjoyed this little cooking show. Feel free to put in requests for other dinner dilemmas you may be having, and know that if you aren't spilling when stirring, you're probably not stirring well.
1) Always use hot sauce: It doesn't matter if you're cooking the chicken and noodles Alfredo or the "Stroganoff", a little hot sauce really goes a long long way to bringing out the dormant flavors of the packet of spices. Also if you have McCormick seasonings I recommend picking one at random and hitting it until you say to yourself "Damn that could be too much seasoning". It never is and it takes your meal from the conservative crowd pleaser that they package to something to write home about and claim that you made from scratch.
2) Use ground turkey: While for some reason it smells like eggs when you're browning it, ground turkey is definitely the way to go in Hamburger Helper. With it being much leaner than beef hamburger, using the turkey doesn't change the taste of the finished product (especially if its properly seasoned as instructed in step one). It's also usually much cheaper in the grocery store, which is always nice. Also soy milk works fine for all you lactose free hellions out there.
3) Can and a plan: You can also increase the nutritional value of the dish by choosing a can of vegetables and adding it to the dish right before simmering. Often kidney beans, peas, corn or Lima beans compliment the dish well. You just have to do a little soul searching to decide which can will kick your variety of Helper to the next level. Not only are you increasing the nutritional value at least by 10, you do so without dirtying a separate pot to cook the side.
4) The box lies: In my experience, if you make the dish to the specifications on the box, you will end up with some really soupy shit. So with each of the wet ingredients, bump the amount of liquid down a quarter to half a cup. Its still plenty to properly cook the ingredients but without the pool of sauce. You will need to experiment with different varieties to decide which need more de-moistification. The one that apparently comes with Fritos is still a soupy thorn in my side.
5) Always better later: The good thing about making a Helper by yourself is that there is plenty for another meal. I usually have the leftovers for lunch the next day and they are 9 out of 10 times even better than they were the night before. When a Helper is left to its own devices, it thickens up, so the next day even the soupiest Helper has become a hearty Tupperware dish of deliciousness. I don't have all the scientific evidence in yet, but I'm pretty sure that if left in the fridge, it never goes bad. So don't throw out those leftovers, save them for another day.
I hope you have all enjoyed this little cooking show. Feel free to put in requests for other dinner dilemmas you may be having, and know that if you aren't spilling when stirring, you're probably not stirring well.
Don't Fear the Reaper
So I've been watching the back episodes of this show called Reaper and I have to say that I'm hooked. Its like a mix of Chuck, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and this awesome Brimstone show they had on a couple years back. The main character Sam's parents sold his soul to the devil which goes into effect on his 21st birthday, so now he has to capture escaped souls for the devil and return them to hell. The only problem is that he and his friends (who think that its awesome and help him out) are total morons. Its painful when they come up with these ridiculous unbelievable lies to explain to people where they went. Especially the smoking hot love interest of the main character, who he has told some zingers such as "I'm donating blood to the homeless" and "I took up jogging" to explain why he ditched her fine ass. Seriously if I had a fine lady who was obviously digging me like she is on that show, I would tell the devil to fuck off and deal with the escaped demons after I got my swerve on. Another funny thing that happens is that when there's an escaped demon on the loose, he gains a demon power to clue him in on what to look for, like everything he eats turns to bugs for a bug demon or he loses all friction for a demon that makes his victims look like they fell and killed themselves. Also to transport them back to hell he has these "vessels" to use to trap them, however they're random everyday objects and the devil doesn't tell him how they work so he has to figure them out and make red lightning come out of them and suck the demon in, where he then returns the object to hell on earth, the DMV. Its a really clever show, I wish the characters were slightly less dumb, but its definitely worth watching if you get the chance.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Robertson's Reviews 5/04/08
Yesterday when rain hit on yet another Saturday we did something that I wouldn't normally do if I weren't hanging out with Captain Pretentious: we looked at luxury automobiles. After stopping by the different dealers, here are my thoughts:
BMW: I was a huge fan of BMW and have wanted one for a long time in the little fantasy world in my mind. But after sitting down in one I was less than impressed. In all honesty, despite a potentially more powerful engine that we didn't get to experience because we didn't test drive it, it wasn't any better than my Elantra. The back seat had less room then my car and except for the push button ignition it really didn't have any bells and whistles you'd expect in a $30k+ car. C.P. called it an understated elegance, but paying an additional $15k just for the logo on the front seems like a horrible waste of money.
Jaguar: C.P. already has a Jag, its a little older but its still in pretty good shape. The new jags didn't look much different than his. They still had the certain classiness to them but nothing has really changed. You could probably save your money and get a ten year old one and get the same thing for a fifth of the price.
Porshe: They look badass if you stand back from them. A true sports car. But you get closer and you realize that its a super tiny car. You would have to be a really good driver because if you got in any type of wreck you would be done for sure.
Mercedes: These cars are soul-less overpriced wastes of money. They have no character at all and I honestly felt depressed just looking at them. The only cool car they had in the whole lot was a Pontiac Solstice that they were selling for a fraction of the price of any of the Mercedes on the lot.
Personally if it were me I would put the money into getting a new Charger or Mustang, lots more character and for the price of those luxury cars you could get the super high end models of those cars. I dunno I guess not having large amounts of money to blow on those cars I just don't get it but to each their own.
BMW: I was a huge fan of BMW and have wanted one for a long time in the little fantasy world in my mind. But after sitting down in one I was less than impressed. In all honesty, despite a potentially more powerful engine that we didn't get to experience because we didn't test drive it, it wasn't any better than my Elantra. The back seat had less room then my car and except for the push button ignition it really didn't have any bells and whistles you'd expect in a $30k+ car. C.P. called it an understated elegance, but paying an additional $15k just for the logo on the front seems like a horrible waste of money.
Jaguar: C.P. already has a Jag, its a little older but its still in pretty good shape. The new jags didn't look much different than his. They still had the certain classiness to them but nothing has really changed. You could probably save your money and get a ten year old one and get the same thing for a fifth of the price.
Porshe: They look badass if you stand back from them. A true sports car. But you get closer and you realize that its a super tiny car. You would have to be a really good driver because if you got in any type of wreck you would be done for sure.
Mercedes: These cars are soul-less overpriced wastes of money. They have no character at all and I honestly felt depressed just looking at them. The only cool car they had in the whole lot was a Pontiac Solstice that they were selling for a fraction of the price of any of the Mercedes on the lot.
Personally if it were me I would put the money into getting a new Charger or Mustang, lots more character and for the price of those luxury cars you could get the super high end models of those cars. I dunno I guess not having large amounts of money to blow on those cars I just don't get it but to each their own.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Skydiver with a Fear of Heights
Today something happened that baffled me to no end. I go along out into the field to do a survey on this one sign with one of the installers and we take the big bucket truck along to survey this sign that's about 20 feet up in the air. We hop in and get up to the sign and I am holding on for dear life. Mr. Skydiver, 75 jumps in the book from over 3000 feet, is afraid of being 20 feet off the ground. Of course the basket is not level, swaying in the wind and the controls only respond about half of the time. But its only 20 feet above concrete and a barb wire fence. It really made me wonder how I could have no problem jumping from planes and when it comes to something little like this I could be so fixated on the potential to fall to my death. I guess its my fear of ironic death. I can only imagine at my funeral how many times two people would whisper to each other, "Fell twenty feet and died after jumping from planes without any problems, that's just ironic" That would be far worse than just plain old sympathy.
Things That Bother Me (at Midnight)
The last time I couldn't sleep it really helped to write, so here I am again, I also thought of things I wanted to write about earlier when I wrote about my day instead so here goes some rapid fire thoughts:
Recently I heard there was a story coming up on tonight's news about how a 4oo+ pound guy's insurance company is refusing to pay for "life saving surgery". Now I can't find what surgery it is but I when I hear about this on the radio I get angry. Not at the insurance company though. Honestly if I were with the insurance company I would be doing the same thing. Its such a bad investment on their part to cover anything like that, especially if its an organ donation. It would be like ponying up the cash to give a smoker new lungs. What a waste. I wish I had more on this story but it really does make me angry.
Barrack Obama needs to stop whining like a little girl. In the last month he has gone from the confident front runner to a complaining unelectable elitist. At the beginning of this democratic two step Hilary was crying every three days and saying stupid things like "If he wasn't black...". But now Obama is making a huge issue about some attention whore racist disgrace of a preacher and getting all bitter about some stupid gas holiday thing that will never happen either way. Even if it does, you're just taking from the road maintenance budget to allow for a couple cents a gallon cheaper. But the sad thing is that he doesn't come out and say something intelligent like that. He says that instead he wants the government to improve fuel economy this summer. That's all. That's the entirety of his plan. Now I'm not sure what they can do to make the gas itself cause better fuel economy but the alternative is that they make the engines of new cars more fuel efficient. But honestly how many people are gonna buy new cars? That kills me with the whole "Make the minimum miles per gallon this by so and so" bill going through congress now. Do they have some magic switch they're holding out on that turns existing cars suddenly into lean mean gas sipping machines?
These are some of the absolutely stupid things that almost make me jump up out of my chair listening to NPR in the mornings at work. They say things in such a way that I honestly will talk back to the radio. Things so stupid that I can't believe they can get away with saying them.
Another thing I heard today is that in a recent study 60% of killings in the world, are happening in terrorist attacks in Iraq. First off I have no idea who came up with this statistic, but I almost had to laugh at the person who told it to me. It was also said in a way that it was a slam on George W Bush. How about some positive spin on the war for once. The type of positive spin that says how much chemical genocide is going on in Iraq anymore. The type of positive spin on how many terrorist attacks that we actually stopped for those televised few that we can't get to in time. When people have the sure ignorance to tell me that those people would be better off if we hadn't done anything, its all I can do to not look them in their face and call them stupid. Sure we haven't turned Iraq into a Club Med. People are dying everyday over there, but those soldiers over there don't need the media at home making them out to be a waste. Back in the World Wars, they would make Army progress movies that they would play before movies at the movie theater about the great strides that our troops were making in battle. Where has that gone? And to be ignorant enough to call our president stupid, just because in your own little fantasy world we should have rolled in there, given a few slaps on the wrist and magically changed the climate of the region to a democratic utopia is just dumb. Stuff doesn't go smoothly all the time. If Iraq would have turned around sooner, no one would be calling our president dumb. They would be falling over each other to pat him on the back. Its that kind of apathetic uninformed bandwagon mentality that is the real problem.
And after that little tirade, Middleweight ultimate fighting sucks. Its all flash and no substance. The fight I saw tonight had one guy wailing on the other guy for three rounds and then he lost the fight and his coaches were beside themselves with the outcome, saying that their guy did all the damage. But then you looked at the other guy and it looked like he had just gotten back from a brisk walk or something. Not a scratch on him. Nine minutes of getting hit and he doesn't have a mark. It's boring to watch. All submission attempts and bad fighting. I also have to mute the TV when they're fighting so I don't hear the repetitive shouts from the coaches, over and over again. If I was a fighter I would be so distracted from that crap that I would tell them to just stop. At least lightweights are fast. Middleweights are like watching two slow terrible fighters grabbing each other for 10 minutes. Mad about the outcome? You should have actually finished the fight. Also why don't the people go home anymore on the Ultimate Fighter? I'm watching it and saying "Didn't that guy just get his ass kicked, why is he still there?" You earned a spot to compete on the show, not get free housing for three months after you get your ass kicked.
Recently I heard there was a story coming up on tonight's news about how a 4oo+ pound guy's insurance company is refusing to pay for "life saving surgery". Now I can't find what surgery it is but I when I hear about this on the radio I get angry. Not at the insurance company though. Honestly if I were with the insurance company I would be doing the same thing. Its such a bad investment on their part to cover anything like that, especially if its an organ donation. It would be like ponying up the cash to give a smoker new lungs. What a waste. I wish I had more on this story but it really does make me angry.
Barrack Obama needs to stop whining like a little girl. In the last month he has gone from the confident front runner to a complaining unelectable elitist. At the beginning of this democratic two step Hilary was crying every three days and saying stupid things like "If he wasn't black...". But now Obama is making a huge issue about some attention whore racist disgrace of a preacher and getting all bitter about some stupid gas holiday thing that will never happen either way. Even if it does, you're just taking from the road maintenance budget to allow for a couple cents a gallon cheaper. But the sad thing is that he doesn't come out and say something intelligent like that. He says that instead he wants the government to improve fuel economy this summer. That's all. That's the entirety of his plan. Now I'm not sure what they can do to make the gas itself cause better fuel economy but the alternative is that they make the engines of new cars more fuel efficient. But honestly how many people are gonna buy new cars? That kills me with the whole "Make the minimum miles per gallon this by so and so" bill going through congress now. Do they have some magic switch they're holding out on that turns existing cars suddenly into lean mean gas sipping machines?
These are some of the absolutely stupid things that almost make me jump up out of my chair listening to NPR in the mornings at work. They say things in such a way that I honestly will talk back to the radio. Things so stupid that I can't believe they can get away with saying them.
Another thing I heard today is that in a recent study 60% of killings in the world, are happening in terrorist attacks in Iraq. First off I have no idea who came up with this statistic, but I almost had to laugh at the person who told it to me. It was also said in a way that it was a slam on George W Bush. How about some positive spin on the war for once. The type of positive spin that says how much chemical genocide is going on in Iraq anymore. The type of positive spin on how many terrorist attacks that we actually stopped for those televised few that we can't get to in time. When people have the sure ignorance to tell me that those people would be better off if we hadn't done anything, its all I can do to not look them in their face and call them stupid. Sure we haven't turned Iraq into a Club Med. People are dying everyday over there, but those soldiers over there don't need the media at home making them out to be a waste. Back in the World Wars, they would make Army progress movies that they would play before movies at the movie theater about the great strides that our troops were making in battle. Where has that gone? And to be ignorant enough to call our president stupid, just because in your own little fantasy world we should have rolled in there, given a few slaps on the wrist and magically changed the climate of the region to a democratic utopia is just dumb. Stuff doesn't go smoothly all the time. If Iraq would have turned around sooner, no one would be calling our president dumb. They would be falling over each other to pat him on the back. Its that kind of apathetic uninformed bandwagon mentality that is the real problem.
And after that little tirade, Middleweight ultimate fighting sucks. Its all flash and no substance. The fight I saw tonight had one guy wailing on the other guy for three rounds and then he lost the fight and his coaches were beside themselves with the outcome, saying that their guy did all the damage. But then you looked at the other guy and it looked like he had just gotten back from a brisk walk or something. Not a scratch on him. Nine minutes of getting hit and he doesn't have a mark. It's boring to watch. All submission attempts and bad fighting. I also have to mute the TV when they're fighting so I don't hear the repetitive shouts from the coaches, over and over again. If I was a fighter I would be so distracted from that crap that I would tell them to just stop. At least lightweights are fast. Middleweights are like watching two slow terrible fighters grabbing each other for 10 minutes. Mad about the outcome? You should have actually finished the fight. Also why don't the people go home anymore on the Ultimate Fighter? I'm watching it and saying "Didn't that guy just get his ass kicked, why is he still there?" You earned a spot to compete on the show, not get free housing for three months after you get your ass kicked.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
When Things Go Wrong, It's Surprisingly Not That Bad
What a day.
First off last night I came home made dinner and promptly passed out for 11 or so hours of sleep. Not only did I not work out like I was planning, I didn't feel overly refreshed when I woke up this morning like I thought I would after normally only getting about 6-7 hours of sleep. So I roll into work half asleep like normal and I am told that I will be going to help at Furman today with the installers. No biggie, I was told the day before that I would probably be headed there, just have to put my other stuff at the office on hold. The other stuff that is on rush because it was due yesterday but probably won't be painted until sometime next week. But I'm covered its cool. I also get my paycheck, and with simple addition in my head calculate that with it and the money in my bank account, I would probably be about $20 short on my rent, which is due today. So I email my dad asking for help. But immediately am whisked away to Furman. I was told that I would only need to be there for part of it so I could bring my car and drive separately so I can return to the office earlier. So we go off to the hospital and fix something quick and then off to Furman to put up some stuff. Of course it doesn't go as smoothly as anyone would expect it to go with bent studs and such (not a sexual reference), but we get it done. As my fellow installer is putting the other part together I head off and do some color matching on a door frame of another building which didn't seem to be right when I measured them the day before. I get done and head back to help the installer finish the job, everything looks great, we get a compliment on the awesomeness from a passing car on the way out, everything is great. I continue walking to my car which I have parked in a random lot beside the stadium and see a piece of paper in my door handle. Two things run through my head. Either the extremely hot chicks that just passed, figured out that this was my car with the Clemson paw on the back and left me their numbers, or I have a parking ticket on yet another university property that as shown above, I really can't pay for right now. So I pick it out and its definitely a female-handwritten note that says:
"Check your back left tire, "Charlie" :)"
I look at the tire and it is super flat and i notice a large screw sticking out of the top of it. Fantastic, pay for a tire. I have the idea that Furman isn't that far away from Greer and that I could probably drive it back there with a flat instead of taking the time to fix it. So I get driving after the van and I get maybe a half a block away when I hear the clickity clacking of the nail on the pavement. So I finally pull over and call the installer and tell him whats up. Like the nice guy he is, he turns around and helps me change my tire. The first time that I've done this on my newish car. The whole time we're cracking jokes about how my car is a chick magnet, with several attractive girls seemingly coming out of nowhere to pass by or overlook the situation from balconies. We finally get it changed out and go to lunch at Stax.
I had been trying to not spend money this week, but it was already 1:30 and my packed lunch was still back at the shop, so restaurant food sounded good. We get through our meal, everything is decent, wouldn't go out of my way to come back, but it was good enough that I might if I was in the area. So we're about to leave and we're paying at the counter when the manager or owner's son starts asking about a graphic designer. Saying he needs one to design a shirt for him. So I say that I'm a designer and I have a couple minutes to discuss it with him. So he goes on and on about how their current shirts are ugly (they are) and how he wants the new ones to look kinda like this stoner picture but not quite as stonerish. He goes on and on for a while and finally I tell him I will put something together for him this weekend and get his business card and head out with a free sweet tea. Cool stuff, get to design something that might get used by a restaurant and sold to people who buy their shirts, and might get some money out of the deal too, awesome.
So we finally get back to the shop and the rest of the day is a blur with trying to apply vinyl to a couple of the finished backlogged signs. 4:30 rolls around and I think about staying late but I remember I need to deal with my tire. So I go to the place that is conveniently across the street from the shop, which everyone in the shop recommends (apparently nails in the tires is a common affliction to the sign business). I tell the guy I need my tire fixed. He says no problem, I sit down and read a magazine. About a half hour later he says they're done, I look out and my car is amazingly good as new and he says "Five bucks". Five dollars to fix my tire, when I thought I was going to have to buy a new one. I speed off, enjoying my returned ability to go over 50 miles an hour. I go to the bank and deposit my check and head home. I stop to get my mail since I got an email saying my two new Netflix should be there. To my surprise is a note from my parents with a check for exactly the amount that I said I needed in the email this morning, which they had sent to cover my gas expenses for next weeks venture to the north. Money problem solved. I turn around and go back to the bank to deposit the money and my bad day turns out to be perfectly fine. Sometimes I don't know why I worry.
First off last night I came home made dinner and promptly passed out for 11 or so hours of sleep. Not only did I not work out like I was planning, I didn't feel overly refreshed when I woke up this morning like I thought I would after normally only getting about 6-7 hours of sleep. So I roll into work half asleep like normal and I am told that I will be going to help at Furman today with the installers. No biggie, I was told the day before that I would probably be headed there, just have to put my other stuff at the office on hold. The other stuff that is on rush because it was due yesterday but probably won't be painted until sometime next week. But I'm covered its cool. I also get my paycheck, and with simple addition in my head calculate that with it and the money in my bank account, I would probably be about $20 short on my rent, which is due today. So I email my dad asking for help. But immediately am whisked away to Furman. I was told that I would only need to be there for part of it so I could bring my car and drive separately so I can return to the office earlier. So we go off to the hospital and fix something quick and then off to Furman to put up some stuff. Of course it doesn't go as smoothly as anyone would expect it to go with bent studs and such (not a sexual reference), but we get it done. As my fellow installer is putting the other part together I head off and do some color matching on a door frame of another building which didn't seem to be right when I measured them the day before. I get done and head back to help the installer finish the job, everything looks great, we get a compliment on the awesomeness from a passing car on the way out, everything is great. I continue walking to my car which I have parked in a random lot beside the stadium and see a piece of paper in my door handle. Two things run through my head. Either the extremely hot chicks that just passed, figured out that this was my car with the Clemson paw on the back and left me their numbers, or I have a parking ticket on yet another university property that as shown above, I really can't pay for right now. So I pick it out and its definitely a female-handwritten note that says:
"Check your back left tire, "Charlie" :)"
I look at the tire and it is super flat and i notice a large screw sticking out of the top of it. Fantastic, pay for a tire. I have the idea that Furman isn't that far away from Greer and that I could probably drive it back there with a flat instead of taking the time to fix it. So I get driving after the van and I get maybe a half a block away when I hear the clickity clacking of the nail on the pavement. So I finally pull over and call the installer and tell him whats up. Like the nice guy he is, he turns around and helps me change my tire. The first time that I've done this on my newish car. The whole time we're cracking jokes about how my car is a chick magnet, with several attractive girls seemingly coming out of nowhere to pass by or overlook the situation from balconies. We finally get it changed out and go to lunch at Stax.
I had been trying to not spend money this week, but it was already 1:30 and my packed lunch was still back at the shop, so restaurant food sounded good. We get through our meal, everything is decent, wouldn't go out of my way to come back, but it was good enough that I might if I was in the area. So we're about to leave and we're paying at the counter when the manager or owner's son starts asking about a graphic designer. Saying he needs one to design a shirt for him. So I say that I'm a designer and I have a couple minutes to discuss it with him. So he goes on and on about how their current shirts are ugly (they are) and how he wants the new ones to look kinda like this stoner picture but not quite as stonerish. He goes on and on for a while and finally I tell him I will put something together for him this weekend and get his business card and head out with a free sweet tea. Cool stuff, get to design something that might get used by a restaurant and sold to people who buy their shirts, and might get some money out of the deal too, awesome.
So we finally get back to the shop and the rest of the day is a blur with trying to apply vinyl to a couple of the finished backlogged signs. 4:30 rolls around and I think about staying late but I remember I need to deal with my tire. So I go to the place that is conveniently across the street from the shop, which everyone in the shop recommends (apparently nails in the tires is a common affliction to the sign business). I tell the guy I need my tire fixed. He says no problem, I sit down and read a magazine. About a half hour later he says they're done, I look out and my car is amazingly good as new and he says "Five bucks". Five dollars to fix my tire, when I thought I was going to have to buy a new one. I speed off, enjoying my returned ability to go over 50 miles an hour. I go to the bank and deposit my check and head home. I stop to get my mail since I got an email saying my two new Netflix should be there. To my surprise is a note from my parents with a check for exactly the amount that I said I needed in the email this morning, which they had sent to cover my gas expenses for next weeks venture to the north. Money problem solved. I turn around and go back to the bank to deposit the money and my bad day turns out to be perfectly fine. Sometimes I don't know why I worry.
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